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#(waves hands awkwardly)
mocking-the-bird · 3 months
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They are painting nails and gossiping
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synth-spinner · 1 year
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ACTUALLY what do u guys think may be the end credits scene for ATSV... which character do u think they may tease... i have a few ideas but I would love spider zero.. she would look so scrungly in the ATSV artstyle and they'll definitely redesign her in an awesome way.. I can see it so clearly :3
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sashimiyas · 1 year
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reina i beg 🙇‍♀️ can i ask if the reader and osamu gets back together/him remembers their past in the burden of being fic (i think that’s the name 🥲) cause like… my brain is remembering how reader mentioned that being with him in this state would only be a heartbreak for them since reader will remember all the past but osamu doesn’t… and and!!! that would be too sadge even if they do get together 🥲
god minnie, i’m so happy you brought up the burden of being. i’ve been sad bc i’ve missed being caught up in a story the way that the burden of being had me.
but you can rest easy. they do get back together :) i actually don’t imagine osamu gaining back all his memories to be honest. there are some things that come back to him, i think the bavo-kun memory is one of them because it’s one of the most recent ones but for the most part, he does navigate reconnecting with reader and all the members of hyogo ward instinctually.
it’s kind of like when you show up to a family reunion and you have all these aunties and uncles saying they knew you when you were this tall. that kind of thing. like he knows these people have been involved in his life some way or another and that he’s meant to be kind and receptive to their generosity. but truly, he cannot place them in his mind prior to remeeting them again.
osamu initially loves her like it is second nature. he cannot explicitly say why he does. he just knows, deep down, in his heart and soul and body, that he does. he loves her. it does make for difficult courtship in the beginning but they are able to restart their relationship as two absolutely different people. because reader from the beginning of the burden of being is absolutely different than the one from the end. the same, obviously goes for osamu.
osamu also never goes back to cooking for a living! he does enjoy it as a side hobby, but he ends up staying on his pro volleyball path. he does leave msby after his falling out with atsumu and i think he finds himself on a division 2 league. he’s still good but a lot of time had passed since he’d taken a break and part of the reason he got a position of a division 1 team is because of atsumu.
akaashi ends up owning o.mo.ide all on his own. reader eventually hands over the restaurant solely to him and she does find her cushy it job so she can continue to spoil osamu just like she wished.
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nightingalesighs · 3 months
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vampires for mel?
OKAY SO THIS ONE. Born after several conversations with @musical-chick-13, my beloved.
And. This is a WIP in the loosest sense of the word. I wanted to write a short story about vampires for her because we both have Opinions. (Lmao)
And also because well vampires are my favorite trope but i still didn’t have a vampire WIP and this is still my only one which all of y’all should be grateful you didn’t know me in my twilight phase is all I’m saying.
ANYWAY. This is mostly built on ~vibes~ atm because when it became a WIP, my mental health was in the garbage and then I got hit with a migraine that’s still happening.
But it’s heavy on themes of like. Monstrosity and dependence and religion and just. Love. Jury’s out on the exact nature of that relationship but the women WILL be in love. VERY MUCH SO and they will at least be a 🤏littol🤏 unhinged about that love.
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tcpdog · 1 year
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                        ❛❛    good to know that this place hasn't fallen into pieces and ruin in my absence. ... well, mostly.    ❜❜
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wildegeist-old · 1 year
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Thinking about the time I got a nosebleed walking home from school but had no tissue so I was just walking with my hand over my face and a mail man drove by, giving me a friendly wave, and reflexively I removed my blood-soaked hand from my face and waved back at him without thinking, fully displaying my now red palm and bloody face before I saw the look of horror on his face and realized what I had just accidentally done
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hxlcyon · 1 year
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choosing to become a male protag in games by choice can be such a personal decision actually
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deadsetobsessions · 5 months
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
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shadow4-1 · 1 month
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I'm just imagining being nervous around the 141 and yet STILL garnering their attention.
Like, you've done everything in your power NOT to get noticed. You're as happy as a clam to work on all the behind the scenes issues. You don't even go out on the field!
You're the one to get gear in place, you're the one talking to Nik and supervising the equipment repairs. You make sure the armory is stocked and that the showers aren't running with rusty water.
You really DON'T want any eyes on you.
You just want to do your job and do it in fucking peace.
So why the hell are they always wanting your attention?
-
"There she is. Keepin' everything in order while 'm gone." Price chuckles, placing a hand on your back as he passes through the armory's narrow shelves. "Looking to take my spot as Captain hm, Love?"
You bury your face into your clipboard, trying desperately to ignore him. He's not going away but God do you want him to. His presence is always so overwhelming and his gaze so pointed. If you could shrink into nothingness you'd try.
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"Oi, Bonnie!" Soap calls out to you at mess. He waves his arms wildly, making everyone look his way. "C'mere! Sit w' us today!"
He's so loud his voice echoes across the cafeteria. Recruits and lower ranking members shrink at the sound of it. So do you, even though you can hear only excitement in his tone instead of the usual ire he employs while training the rookies.
You know that if you decide to sit with your friends you'll never hear the end of it. But if you choose to sit with him and the rest of the all star task force you'll be under their gazes for the better part of the morning. You want to just drop your lunch tray and run out, but on unsteady legs and a bowed head you shuffle to the table.
-
"Well well, look who it is." Gaz huffs, looking up from his terminal set up in the surveillance room. "Thanks for packing those extra headset chords for me."
"Uh...yeah, no problem." You nod, trying to ignore him while simultaneously digging in an old box full of wires.
"Whatcha lookin' for?"
"Uh...a mouse. A wireless one."
"Here, take mine." He smiles, unplugging the tiny chip from the side of his laptop. "Need a new one anyway."
"It's alright I-"
"Just take it. You deserve it more than me." He hums, looking away wistfully. "If it weren't for those extra cords we wouldn't 'ave been able to call for evac on that last mission."
You take the mouse into your palm, feeling uneasy. Something about his demeanor isn't right. Gaz is always confident and sure. But the way he glances at you before he turns back to the computer makes you worried.
Is he...jealous?
You slip out of the door and close it behind you without making a sound.
-
"Need t' put a bell on you." Ghost grumbles. "Can't hear you n' those."
You stop midway down the hallway, confused and nervous.
You look down at your old, beat up reg boots from your PT days. They were definitely in need for a decommissioning, but they were comfy despite the fact that the soles had no tread anymore.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry." You awkwardly mumble. "Need new ones."
"No."
You raise a brow at him. It was just the two of you in one of the maintenance hallways which was, ironically enough, poorly maintained. The overhead fluorescents flickered and made it hard to focus.
"Keep 'em." He nods, turning away and showing you the full breadth of his back. He mutters at you as while he keeps walking on.
"Keeps you under the radar."
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fairy-angel222 · 4 months
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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—“i just wanna be one of your girls tonight,”
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pairing: geto suguru x fem! reader
synopsis: you’ve had a crush on your brother’s best friend for a long time, and just wanted to have his attention at least once
content: smut, weed consumption, blowing smoke into your mouth, choking, fingering, mirror sex, praise
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You would do anything for the attention of Geto Suguru. There was just something about him that you needed. Yes he was your brother’s best friend. And yes he was three years older than you. But that really meant nothing.
Your teeth bit down painfully on your bottom lip as you watched Geto flirt with an older girl. His signature smirk on his face as he leaned onto her locker, hands in his pocket with his lips moving in the sweetest words.
You wish it could’ve been you. The way she got shy, her face flushed red as she tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear with a perfectly manicured nail.
All you could do was watch with longing as his arm wrapped around her waist, her head on his side before they began walking the halls together. His smirk never faltered as he nodded along to her words.
Lucky. You thought to yourself, a tight lipped smile painted on your face.
You finished packing away your books, slamming the metal blue door shut before making your way to class. You’d always be his best friend’s little sister.
“Fuck- sorry..” you trailed off as you looked up to find his eyes staring back down at you. A smile on his face and his eyebrow raised as broad hands held onto your waist to steady your frame. “Language sweetheart. And careful now, wouldn’t want Gojo to kill me, would we?” he teased.
Your mouth opening and closing with no words escaping. “U-uh y-eah, well n-no, i mean no.” So fucking embarrassing.
Geto only chuckled, shaking his head in amusement then walking off with a grin. “Bye little Gojo.”
There he goes with that stupid nickname again.
The day goes by with nothing on your mind. Well, except Geto of course. He would be coming over to your house later to hang out with your brother. And as always, they would have girls over.. and you weren’t invited as Gojo put it.
Leaving your classroom, you passed by your locker to collect your things. Swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way to the school’s doors. “Hey y/n,” a deep voice called. Turning around to see Geto jogging up to you with a girl’s arm hooked around his. A brunette this time.. great.
“Yeah?”
“Gojo asked for me to take you home, so you’re stuck with me.” He stated, winking jokingly before draping his arm over your shoulder as he walked you and his girl of the day to his vehicle.
If only he knew what that mere gesture did to you.
You took a seat in the back of his vehicle. Awkwardly watching as his hand squeezed the thigh of the girl in the passenger’s seat, massaging her skin until she was looking at the side of his face with nothing but want.
You blinked your attention away from them, resting your head back and looking out the car window instead. The ride to your house was silent apart from the girl’s constant giggling. And you kept your focus on anything but them, missing the way Geto glanced back through the rear view mirror. His head tilted and a small smile on his face.
She’s jealous, cute.
“We’re here,” Geto announced.
Walking into the house and greeting your brother in a hug before flopping down on the couch with his girl on his lap.
Gojo had his own blonde sat next to him, her legs on his lap as she played with his hair. “Hello little sister, not even gonna greet your favorite big brother hello?”
You gave a short wave before going up to your room, locking the door shut before flopping onto your bed. You wanted him.. so bad.
Maybe if you were just two years older.. granted, 18 and 21 wasn’t even that bad.. but maybe he would watch you then.
You sighed, closing your eyes as you heard loud music fill the house, the group most likely beginning their drinking and make out session by now.
Grabbing your phone, you plugged in your earphones. One of The Girls by the weeknd blasting through your ears as you let your mind wander. Geto, his hands, on your body.
You let out a soft whimper as you allowed your hand to roam to your chest, squeezing your tits and rolling your nipples between your soft fingertips.
“Mmm..” you moaned, imagining his hand instead of yours as you trailed it lower, slowly pulling down your pants and letting it slip inside the white lace of your panties. “Fuck.. Suguru,” your fingers rubbed along the line of your slit, teasing your clit before you finally allowed them to dip into your wetness.
“A-ah, so good,” you threw your head back into your pillow, thrusting your fingers in and out of your dripping heat with desperation. Trying your hardest to curl them to reach that good spot. Almost there.
“Fuck.” you yelled out in frustration, they were not enough. You needed his. His long, veiny fingers.. you needed them in you, around your neck, squeezing at your flesh. Anything.
Sighing loudly, you stood up. Walking over to the door of you and your brother’s shared master bathroom. You would usually knock. But he and his friends were clearly getting drunk— and high, downstairs. So there was no need.
Pushing the door open, your eyes widened at the sight of Geto leaned over your counter. A blunt between his lips as red eyes stared at you through the mirror, his face drenched with water.
“A-am sorry, I thought it was e-empty.” you rushed out, your thighs clenching as you watched his muscles flex as he gripped the counter’s edge even harder.
“Wait,” he called out, stopping you mid track from closing your side of the door. “Come here.”
You gulped hard, shakily walking over to him. “Y-yeah?” Geto smirked, “you know, it’s cute how flustered you get around me.”
You could feel your cheeks heat up, your brain scrambling to find something to say. Geto only chuckled, “wanna try?” holding the blunt out in your direction. “I.. I don't think Gojo would like that.”
He shrugged, “I won’t tell.” Before stalking over to you and backing you up against the counter. You yelped as his arms hooked under your thighs, swiftly lifting you onto the counter top before situating himself between your legs.
Geto’s fingers hooked onto your chin, your eyes meeting his as he lifted your head towards him. “Open.” You did as told, parting your lips and watching as he took a hit, blowing the smoke into your open mouth before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
Your stomach burned with heat, your pussy drenched as his lips found your neck. You let out a soft moan, your hands wrapping around his neck while your fingers tugged at the back of his hair. “What about your girlfriend downstairs?” you spoke between moans.
“Not my girlfriend.” he reassured “And tonight’s all about you.”
You were in heaven, it was even better than you imagined.
Setting the rolled paper down, Geto helped you remove your shirt, pinching your nipples and twisting them softly just to hear you moan. “You sound so pretty.”
Geto hurriedly peeled off his shirt, his abs on display making you bite your tongue. “Touch them.”
“W-what?”
“Go ahead, touch them.” Grabbing your hands and placing them on the hard muscles.
You could only whimper when Geto pulled your pants off of you, his eyes going dark at the sight of the white lace covering your pussy.
He looked down at you with a look of confirmation, you looking up at him through long lashes as you nodded. “Please.”
That was all he needed, ripping the flimsy material off of you and admiring your glistening cunt. His fingers found your wetness, rubbing up and down before sinking them into you. A loud moan escaping your lips making his eyes widen.
“Shhh, don’t wanna get caught do you.”
Geto’s free hand made its way up to your mouth, muffling your mewls as he curled his fingers up into you. Perfect. They were hitting inside you so good, and you allowed yourself to moan his name over and over into his palm. His eyes never leaving yours as he fingered you dumb.
Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, drool coating his hand as you rocked back and forth on the marble top. It was happening, it was actually happening.
“Is this what you wanted baby? This what you been waiting for?”
You nodded, your eyes teary as the pads of his fingers pressed into your g spot with every thrust. Your legs hooked tightly around his waist, your toes curling as you began to tremble.
“Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, hot tongue making you moan out as he nibbled on your lobe. You could only let out a soft cry as you clenched down on his fingers, rocking your hips onto his hand and fucking yourself through your high.
Geto watched in pure lust as you came, your glassy eyes looking up at him before shutting in pleasure, your head falling back as you met your release. You looked like a fucking angel in his eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to be the demon to corrupt you.
“Good girl.” he smirked.
You smiled, your eyes trailing to the blunt once more, making Geto’s smirk grow impossibly wider. Picking it up and bringing it to your plump lips. “Inhale... there we go. Now let it sit.. and exhale.” he coaxed, “You like that?”
Your head felt so dizzy, intoxicated even. And you nodded, watching as Geto took his own hit before blowing it out onto your face.
His fingers were dripping with your slick, and he brought them up to his mouth with a smug smile. Using his tongue to lick up your sweetness before connecting his lips to yours again. The kiss was hard, sloppy, and you moaned loudly into him.
Pulling away, Geto flipped you over. Using his knee to spread your legs apart and push your chest down onto the cold marble. You let out a needy whine, meeting his eyes in the mirror as his hand wrapped around your neck. The other lining his cock up with your hole. He let out a choked groan as he eased into you. A loud moan being drawn past your lips.
“S-so tight, fuck.” Geto’s lips parted in a loud groan, using his now free hand to pin both your smaller hands behind your back. “Beg me.. beg me to ruin you.”
You let out a broken cry. “P-please Geto.. please fuck me, ruin me, anything. ‘M all yours.”
You let out a string of high pitched noises when he began slamming his hips into yours. His tip piercing deep into you with every thrust.
“F-fuck, y-you’re.. s-so,” you let out a broken mewl, “so d-deep.” Geto tightened his hold on your neck, lifting your head slightly to force your eyes to stay on his. A deep growl sounding in his throat when you closed them.
“Look at me when i fuck you.” he demanded, your eyes shooting open and meeting his immediately.
Your mouth hung open in a small o. Soundless cries filling the room as you watched your body jerk forward with each movement of his hips.
You were so tight around him. Even tighter than he had imagined. And he couldn’t help the moans leaving his own mouth as he destroyed your pussy.
“Does that feel good? Does my cock feel good inside you baby?”
You nodded with a whimper, your breathing heavy as you were forced to watch yourself be fucked dumb.
“Words sweetheart.”
“Y-yes, it feels s-so good Suguru.”
“That’s my girl.”
You could feel your legs going weak, your knees trembling as you were fucked into the counter. “Nngh- Sugu,” you moaned, a smirk on his face as he thought back to mere minutes ago when you were moaning his name from your bed. Now you didn’t have to imagine, he was right there.
“‘M so close,” you mewled.
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me? Show me how much you wanted this?”
His back hunched as he flattened his chest against you, the position allowing him to hit deeper than you thought was possible.
“F-fuck,” you cried out, your eyes widening with tears as you felt his dick fucking you so deep, so good. The pleasure was too intense. The coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap.
“Look at how good you look when you fall apart on my cock. Come on baby— cum for me again.” He encouraged as he rolled his hips up into you, forgetting about being quiet as he relished in your loud moans and cries. You sounded so pretty for him. And for him only.
A loud scream fell past your lips when his dick hammered against your g spot. Your legs shaking uncontrollably as you began to gush around him. Eyes rolling back as you basked in the pleasure from your high.. the highest you’d ever been.
“That’s a good fucking girl,” he dragged out, breathing getting heavy and his thrusts sloppy as he gave your pussy its final thrusts.
“Wish i could fill you up more than anything. Fuck, wanna make you mine. Wanted to for so long.” he moaned, voice cracking slightly as his abs tensed.
Geto groaned, pulling out of you before spilling his cum onto your ass, his head thrown back as he let rope after rope fall onto your plush flesh.
Strong hands held you up before you collapsed, holding you tight against him as he breathed heavily into your back. Your chest heaving in an attempt to steady your own breathing.
Your heart clenched as your eyes trailed over the scene in the mirror. You, Suguru.. together, sweat coating both of your skins.
Geto’s voice was soft as he mumbled, “Want you so bad.. need you to be mine. I can’t wait anymore.”
Your heart rate sped up as you felt your tears at the brink of falling. This wasn’t a dream. “I— I..” you were at a loss of words.. he wanted you too.
“It’s okay, I know. You don’t quite make it discreet.” he joked, pulling you into a tight hug and placing a kiss onto your head.
Geto cursed, letting out a long sigh and picking up the still lit blunt. Taking a puff before releasing it above your head. “What the fuck am i supposed to say if Gojo finds out.”
Oh yeah.. your brother. He would most definitely not approve.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door. A very drunk Gojo slurring, “Yo Suguru? You in there? I need to piss.”
Geto only shook his head with a silent laugh. While you, you couldn’t be bothered. You had him. You actually had him. Suguru was yours. And you weren’t just one of his girls. You were his girl.
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danveration · 5 months
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Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
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Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
7K notes · View notes
mrsbarnesblog · 7 months
Text
firewood
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Lumberjack! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: When you decide to chop wood in your backyard, your hot neighbor, who happens to be a lumberjack, offers you some help.
Word count: 4.8K
Warnings: +18❗️smut, hot neighbor bucky is a fucking warning, kinda size kink, rough sex, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names
Author's note: this is one of my favorite works, so I hope everyone who hasn't read it before will like it too (it's hard to not fall for lumberjack Bucky, tbh🤷‍♀️)
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“Hey, do you need help?” You stopped what you were doing. You breathed heavily, your arms ached, and you were already sweating. The man, your neighbor, whom you already saw a few times when you arrived home, was standing before you with his hands in his jeans pockets. 
He was attractive. Really handsome. Probably 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and visibly a lot of muscles under the clothes. Yeah, that red henley left nothing for your imagination. His dark hair was put in a low bun, and he had a little stubble on his face. But you mostly noticed his bright blue eyes, which looked straight at you very attentively.
“Sorry, what?” You said as you wiped sweat from your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt. 
“I asked if you needed help. Sorry, but it seems like you have some troubles.” He smiled at you almost shyly, and you couldn’t even make yourself mad at his words. 
“Um, It’s my first time doing it.” You awkwardly smiled back, finally putting a big ax to the ground. “But I need wood for my fireplace, so I have to work with what I have.”
“I see… but don’t you have a boyfriend or a husband? I mean, it’s not really easy to do for a woman, and you seem pretty... petite for this?” It almost sounded like a question. “I wanted to say that I can help you if you allow me, because that thing might be really dangerous if you don’t know how to work with it, and I'm a lumberjack, so... it’s not a problem for me.” He awkwardly started to rub his neck. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”
“For a woman?” You playfully arched an eyebrow. “So you think that only men can do this?” You saw how his eyes widened, and you tried to hold your laughter.
“No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He lifted both hands in the air. “It’s just gonna take you forever to do, and as I said before, It’s not the safest work. And since this is my job, I could’ve helped you. As a neighbor, you know?” 
“Relax, I’m just joking.” You softly smiled at him. “Nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.” You reached out your hand. Bucky’s face relaxed, but then his lips curled into a mischievous smile.
“I like you.” He said, as he shook your hand. His grip was tight, and you felt that he really did a lot of physical work with his hands.
“Oh… thanks?” 
“Soo, do you need help?” He asked again.
“Um, honestly, I don’t know. I can’t just let you work for me for free. Can I pay you?”
“Doll, I have enough money, and I don’t need yours. I don’t think that you need tons of firewood, so it would be easy work for me.”
“Okay, but maybe I can give you food? Pastry? I really love to cook, and everyone said that I’m good at it.” You nervously played with your sleeve while Bucky was staring directly at you.
“Deal. I would honestly die for homemade food, ‘cause last time I ate it was at my ma’s and I really miss it. But you don’t have to do this, okay?”
“And you don’t have to help me.” You shot back.
Bucky’s smile grew wider, and he started shaking his head. “You have some temper, doll... Friday is okay?” 
“Yeah, totally, any time you’re free.” 
“Deal. I should probably go, and you better start training to cook food for me. I am really picky, and you insisted on paying me with it.” He said and started to walk back.
“Oh, shut up.” You laughed. “I know what I’m doing; don’t underestimate me!” 
“Fine. See ya, doll.” Bucky waved at you with the biggest smile on his face and finally walked away.
Well, it’s gonna be interesting. 
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For the next almost two months, Bucky had been “working” for you, and you paid him with your food every single time because you couldn’t leave that man starving after he just got home from work and then willingly helped you. 
You two got closer. Bucky was a really good man; you found out it while you were sitting in your backyard looking at how his muscles were moving with every swing of the ax. He was right that it wasn't a big deal for him—the job that you would’ve been doing for several hours he did in twenty or thirty minutes. 
The conversation with Bucky was easy, he was a pretty reserved person, but he still told you everything about his job and his friends and asked you things about your life. It was hard not to fall for him. Especially when he gave you this boyish smile every time it was time to say goodbye or when you brought him your homemade food. 
Usually he comes to your house every Friday after work around 6 p.m., but today it was already 8 and he still didn’t show up. There was no light in his windows either, so you became really worried that something serious had happened. 
You were nervously sitting on the bar stool in your kitchen while your dinner was getting cold on the stove. You really had no appetite. What if he got injured from his dangerous work? Or maybe you were just overreacting and he went on a date with someone? You really had no reason to be worried that much because Bucky probably didn’t even think of you as a close friend, and you were just a too dramatic person with attachment issues. 
The light knock on the door scared you a little bit, but you still jumped out of your seat to open it. 
Bucky was standing there, visually perfectly fine and without any injuries, and you sighed with relief. 
“Bucky, oh my god, hi. Are you okay? I was really worried about you, and I don’t even have your phone number to text or call.” You mumbled as your eyes studied his face. 
“Hey, doll.” Bucky softly smiled at you, but it was obvious that he wasn’t really in the mood. “I’m fine. Just a shitty day at work. My boss went fucking crazy over nothing, and it was just a mess.” He ran a hand through his long hair. “But I have to do your firewood, so I'll go change and be back in a few minutes, ‘kay?”
He started to go back, but you caught him by his wrist. “No, Buck, wait. You don’t have to do it right now, really. I have enough wood, and you’re really exhausted. Come in; I have fresh lasagna and chocolate muffins.” 
“Um—are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to.” He mumbled. You noticed that you were still holding his wrist, but decided to leave it that way. 
“Don’t worry, I have enough food, and you look like you really need it. C’mon, don’t you want to eat something homemade and still hot after a bad day at work?” You gave him your best smile, and it was obvious in his eyes that he already agreed to your idea. 
“Okay, we can do that. Honestly, I feel like I’m able to eat a fucking elephant.” 
You both shared a laugh before you almost dragged him into your house and closed the door. Only at that moment did you realize that even though you gave Bucky a lot of food, he had never been at your place before. For some reason, you felt really excited to feed him and spend some time together. 
“Sit here while I’m heating the food.” Bucky obediently took a seat, looking with a soft smile at how you were moving around in your little kitchen.
You looked so domestic and soft in the warm yellow lights of the room in the cute pink cotton dress with little flowers all over it. The concentration was written all over your face as you tried to perfectly set plates and cutlery on the table and then put steaming lasagna on it.
“Fuck, it smells so good; you’re going to kill me, doll.” He wasn’t able to handle the amazing smell of food right in front of him. 
Your cheeks heated, and you waved your hand at him. “It’s just lasagna, Buck; don’t be dramatic.” You took a place near him, and you both started to eat your food. 
“I’m not being dramatic. I already told you that, besides my ma, you have the best food in the world. I could’ve eaten it three times a day for the rest of my life and not gotten tired of it.” He took another big bite, moaning as the taste filled his mouth. 
“You’re making me blush. No one ever told me this.”
“That’s my intention, doll. What, none of your boyfriends complemented your skills? Because I would’ve put the ring on that finger way too fast.” You looked at each other for a few seconds until you noticed that he had already finished his portion. 
“Do you want more?” Ignoring his previous words, you stood up and took his plate to give him some extra food. The dress gently flew around your thighs, drawing Bucky’s attention to your legs when you turned around. “Anyway, what happened at work? You mentioned your boss.”
“Ugh, Pierce is a fucking dipshit. Everyone there hates him, but he has too much money, so we can’t do anything. Me and Steve have really been on bad terms with him since the first day. He tries to tell us how to do our work, but his head is so far up in his ass that he can’t even listen to what we say.” You returned to your place and put a plate in front of Bucky again. The frown took place on his face while he was talking about Pierce, so you put a hand on top of his without even thinking. 
“He sounds like a total asshole. I’m sorry that you guys have to work for him.” Bucky’s face softened at your action. He flipped his hand so he could interlace your fingers, and you felt the warm feeling all over your body. 
You both definitely felt something, but you still stayed silent, enjoying the connection. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other. It was just hard to admit out loud, and, honestly, Bucky was so scared that you might think that he did all of this just to get into your pants. Which is not true. Well, he doesn’t mind, but it’s not his only intention. He wants to treat you right and ask you out on a date. 
Back then, he felt so bold and offered to help you with the firewood with the hope of getting to know you better. Steve and Sam obviously knew about his new “work” and teased him about it all day long. Unfortunately, he still didn’t find the right moment to ask you out. Those times when he came to you on Friday evenings and you were watching him work in your cute dresses or little pajamas were Bucky’s favorites. You looked so soft, cozy, and domestic that he wished to see you like this every day. 
After the last piece of a chocolate muffin disappeared in Bucky’s mouth and he let out a moan of satisfaction, he sat in your kitchen with closed eyes and a smile on his face. 
“If I had to have a shitty day just to get this type of meal at the end of the day, I’m ready for it.”
“Bucky!” You laughed at his dramatic words. “You don’t have to have a bad day. I can feed you just because.” 
“Well, you said it yourself. Now you won’t get rid of me.” You both laughed. Then he suddenly got up and started to put plates in the sink. “You sit, and I’ll wash the dishes.”
“No, Bucky, that’s not how it works!” You got up and caught him by his bicep. Really hard and big bicep. 
“Yes, it is. You’re cooking, then I’m cleaning.” He tried to get away from your grip to turn on the water, but you only held him stronger, now with both of your hands on his arms. 
“Bucky.” When he was standing so close to you, you realized your size and height difference, and it made you shiver. You turned your head up to look him in the eyes. “You are my guest; you shouldn’t do this.”
“My mother taught me to always help women because they are not our maids.” He stepped a little bit closer. “But if you’re saying this only because you want me to leave, I can do that.”
You were both looking at each other, and what you saw in his eyes made you weak in the knees. 
“No, no, I don’t want you to leave.” Your hands moved higher and fell on the sides of his neck. It was everything Bucky needed to finally kiss you.
Two large and rough hands took your face to bring your lips closer to Bucky’s height. He was gentle yet so passionate, and he slowly moved his lips against yours. It was mind-blowing how desperately you wanted him to devour you, to destroy you. While your hands were discovering his broad chest and shoulders, you felt that your body was suddenly lifted in the air and then placed on the kitchen counter.
Now that Bucky didn’t have to lean over to your height, it was easier to kiss you properly. His tongue brushed over your lips to ask for entrance, which you happily gave. Bucky felt too addicted to your taste, your smell, and the feeling of your smaller body against him. It drove him crazy.
“I've wanted to do that since the day I looked at you.” The hands on your hips tightened and moved you closer to his body. “You look so pretty, God.” Bucky’s eyes are running all over your face, trying to memorize every little thing.
“Bucky...” You dragged him closer again, desperate to connect your lips. His large hands wandered all over your body, slightly pulling up your dress and then moving higher and cupping your breasts in them. “I thought you were tired.” His large erection was obvious through his jeans, and you wanted to tease him. 
“I’m never tired for you, doll.” He mumbled against your lips. “I could’ve fucked you right on this table, but I’ll leave it for the next time. Where’s your bedroom?” You didn’t miss the promise to fuck you again, and your body felt ecstatic just because of this thought.
“Up the stairs, second door from the right.” 
Bucky didn’t say a word before your world suddenly moved, and you ended up hanging from his shoulder. Your bare ass was probably right near his face, and you couldn’t help but blush. 
He stormed up the stairs with one hand on your thigh, as if your weight on his shoulder was nothing, and then walked into your main bedroom. 
You were thrown onto your bed, and Bucky stayed in front of you for a few seconds to remember this picture. Swollen lips, eyes full of need, a short dress that pulled up and showed a glimpsing of your white underwear. Yes, you were perfect, and only for him. 
“Come here, Buck.” You raised your hands in his direction, and he obediently climbed on top of you with a smirk on his face.
He sat between your legs, moving his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs.
“Such a pretty doll for me, in this cute lil’ dress, mm?” His body was hovering over you, and when he found a zipper on the back of your dress, you ended up lying under him only in your white lingerie set in less than a minute. 
The pair of the most beautiful blue eyes devoured your naked body as soon as the piece of clothing was removed, and you had never seen a man look at you this way. Like you were the most beautiful, delicious, and priceless thing in the world. Bucky’s hands gently touched your body from the shoulders to your legs, and you swear that you heard a moan while he was doing it.
“Sweetheart.” He mumbled and leaned to gently kiss the soft skin of your belly, moving with little kisses higher until he reached your lips. “You’re killing me, you know that?” 
“Shut up and kiss me, Barnes.” It was impossible to think straight when his pretty face was right in front of you and his muscular body pushed you deeper into the mattress of your bed. He kissed you as you asked, but it didn’t last long before he pulled away with a grin on his face. You gently brushed his brown locks out of his face and tucked them behind his ears.
“So bossy, dollface... Do I have to fuck this attitude out of you?”
“Mmm, undress, and we’ll see what you are capable of.” You shot back at him, and he just moved away with a smirk on his face. 
In a few seconds, a red henley was thrown somewhere on the floor, and you were face to face with a body that was probably made by the Greek gods. Muscles on muscles, with tanned skin and freckles from the work under the sun. Now you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree.
“Like what you see?” His smirk became wider as he saw the look on your face: slightly parted lips and darkened eyes that were looking at him up and down. Bucky's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, and with the last movement, he was standing in your almost dark bedroom completely naked. 
You almost choked on your saliva when he pulled down his pants and boxers at the same time. He was thick and long, with an angry red head. 
“No way this is gonna fit me…”
“It will, doll. I’ll take care of it. I bet this pretty little pussy will just suck me in.” 
It was over for you. You knew that. A handsome, respectful man with a perfect body and dirty mouth? Yes, he can do whatever he wants with you.
He returned to your bed, sitting in between your spread legs. He didn’t waste any more time when he reached behind your back and unbuttoned your bra. Bucky stood on his knees so perfectly that his dick landed on your covered pussy, and it made you both moan out loud. 
“Look at this, doll. ‘M gonna destroy her.” His hips slightly moved, and because your panties were soaking wet, it was so smooth and perfect. “Can you imagine that? I will stretch you out so well that I’ll ruin any other men for you. Make you–and her– mine.” He reached with one of his hands to your tits and squeezed your nipple between his fingers, while the other one was keeping your legs apart so he would be able to move his hips. 
You tried to close your legs by instinct. The tip of his cock again and again brushed right on your clit, and the slight pain from your nipple made you desperately moan and clench your bedsheets.
“Are you going to cum, pretty girl? Im not even inside of you, and you’re already a fucking mess.” Bucky’s rough voice was so sexy that it made you even wetter, if that was possible. He saw that you were close: by the way your breathing changed and how your eyes rolled back in your head. “C'mon, just let it go. Soak those panties even more.” His movements on your most sensitive parts of the body didn’t stop, and it threw you over the edge.
You were squeezing around nothing, and the most inappropriate and dirty moan escaped your mouth. It was something that you'd never experienced before, and it was so intense that you needed some time to get over it.
“Good girl.” Bucky grabbed your face and connected your lips, giving you another wet and sloppy kiss. 
Then, without hesitation, Bucky’s hands took off the last piece of your clothing, leaving you completely naked for his hungry eyes. He stared at your body up and down for a few seconds and then closed his eyes to take a deep breath and calm himself down. 
“Bucky, please, I need you so much.” You almost cried, trying to grab him and put his body on top of yours, but Bucky was much larger than you, so it was almost impossible.
Bucky finally calmed down a little bit, and he interlaced his right hand with your left, pinning it above your head. His body softly landed on you, and skin-to-skin contact sent shivers down your spine. He was now looking you right in the eyes, and judging by his facial expressions, he either wanted to fuck you lifeless or cuddle and hold you closely.
“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” Bucky’s soft side came out again, and you slightly nodded, giving him permission to continue. The little silver square appeared in his hand out of nowhere before he ripped the package with his teeth and put a condom on. 
You honestly tried to hold back the little bit of disappointment you felt when he decided to use protection. It was smart. You weren’t longtime partners, it was a question of your safety. But the tiny voice in your head told you that you would’ve let him fuck you without it. To feel his perfect d–
Your thoughts were cut off with a deep chuckle. “You look like you’re sad that I put on a condom, doll.” You swear that his eyes darkened when you stayed silent. “If you want it later, I’ll fuck you raw, ‘kay? But now neither of us can think straight.” 
“Are you a perfect man?” You laughed.
“I don’t know, let’s find out.” Your smile faded as soon as you felt the head of his dick at your entrance.
You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, so when Bucky started teasing you again, rubbing you up and down to cover himself in your slick, you nearly lost it. 
“Bucky, please.” You whine, grabbing the side of his torso with your free hand. “Don’t tease me, please, I can’t—” 
Your words died as Bucky finally pushed inside of you. Your head fell deeper into your soft bed, and Bucky’s body tensed on top of you, trying to hold back a deep moan. 
It was overwhelming. He stretched you out so deliciously that you felt pain and inexplicable pleasure. No one ever made you feel this way—like you were on cloud nine and the man on top of you didn’t even actually fuck you yet. 
“You’re squeezing me so hard that I might cum like a teenager—fuck!” He groaned, squeezing your hand harder. “Relax, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
You tried to relax as much as you could with a dick buried deep inside of you, and Bucky was finally able to move.
Well, if it felt good earlier, then the first movement of his hips probably sent you right to heaven. Bucky cupped your face with his left hand, locking your eyes together, when he started thrusting at a slow pace. 
“So pretty for me, doll. You feel my cock in your stomach, huh?” Bucky’s lips almost touched yours when he talked, but it felt like he was too far away from you. “Good girl, take me so well. Knew that this pussy would be my death.” 
“More... harder, please, fuck me harder.” You spoke in between moans, gazing intently at Bucky's pretty face.
He started fucking you harder. Your bed was slamming your wall, but it didn’t bother you as much as the fact that he was hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You were a fucking whining mess under him, with a slightly open mouth and a drunk-looking face.
“Suck it like a good girl you are.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, and you moaned, doing as he said. “Your pussy is already sucking the shit out of me. Are you going to cum, baby? Going to make a mess on my cock while I fuck you? Imagine if I fucked you raw and filled you up with my load. I bet you’d like that.” The finger went deeper into your mouth, making you gag. You nodded your head as much as you could at Bucky’s words because you were already ready to cum.
“Give it to me, baby.” Bucky growled, sucking on your neck. His hips slammed into yours, making the nastiest noise, but it turned you on even more. A finger slipped out of your mouth, and Bucky’s face was in front of you again. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum.”
“M-m, B-bucky! Don't stop, pl– ahhh!” The wave of the best orgasm of your fucking life washed over you. You swear the stars started dancing behind your closed eyes as you endlessly squeezed Bucky’s cock and his body.
The way you were moaning, how your eyes rolled back, and how your whole body trembled pushed Bucky over the edge. A few last movements in your soaking wet pussy and he came, feeling almost lifeless, as if you had sucked the whole energy out of him.
He let go of your hand, which this whole time he held above your head, and cupped your face with both of his hands, kissing away the tears you didn’t even notice.
“Y/N? Baby? Are you okay?” He whispered and moved your head a little bit so your eyes were directed at him. You looked like you were high or really drunk, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that you were the prettiest woman on earth.
“I– it’s like I don't feel my body anymore.” You lazily mumbled and closed your eyes. “No one ever fucked me like this.” 
“Glad to hear that, doll.” Bucky leaned closer and kissed your soft lips with more delicacy and tenderness. “Do you need anything? Food, water, bath?”
“No… Can you just hug me and stay here for the night?” You asked, now afraid that he would leave since he got what he wanted.
“Sure, just let me get rid of this thing, and I’ll still get you some water.” He kissed you on the forehead before carefully untangling his body from yours. You hissed at the new empty and a little bit aching feeling inside of you. “I’m sorry, baby.” 
Bucky threw a condom in the basket under your table and, putting on only his boxers, came down to the kitchen to get you a bottle of water. But when he came back, he saw that you had already fallen asleep.
You looked so cute—still naked, with a peaceful expression on your face, laying in the middle of your messy bed. He thought about whether he should disturb your sleep or not, but you asked him to stay, right? Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then came closer to you, placed the bottle on the nightstand, and carefully scooped you into his hands, pushing away the covers. He put you back down, and then you opened your eyes. 
“C’mere…” You mumbled, still sleepy, and grabbed his hand.
Bucky quietly chuckled and got under the cover, hugging you from the back. You happily sighed before drifting back to sleep. Bucky kissed you in the hair, hugged you harder, and fell to sleep with you in his arms.
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You woke up a little bit disoriented, trying to figure out what happened last night. 
The bed beside you was empty, but the aching feeling between your legs proved that it wasn’t a dream. You, in fact, fucked your hot lumberjack neighbor. But where did he go?
You found some random oversized t-shirt and walked down the stairs. Everything was silent; your kitchen was empty but crystal clean. Did Bucky just leave? 
Wait a minute. 
Yesterday there was a mess from your cooking and dinner with Bucky.
Now the room was almost shining. 
You looked around in confusion until you noticed a piece of paper on the table. 
All of your bad thoughts disappeared as soon as you read it, and you felt butterflies go crazy in your stomach.
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7K notes · View notes
forzalando · 5 months
Text
Orange Theory
Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!
You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.
Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.
“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.
“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”
“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.
“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”
You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.
“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
“I just came to give you this.”
Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.
“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.
“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”
“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”
“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.
“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.
Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.
“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.
“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.
Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.
He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”
You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.
“He peels your oranges for you?”
You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”
“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”
“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”
Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.
“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”
“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”
As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.
“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.
As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”
“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”
“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”
“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”
A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.
“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”
“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”
“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”
You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”
Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”
“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.
“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”
“What else?”
“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”
Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.
“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.
“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”
Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”
“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”
“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”
“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”
Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.
Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.
Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.
You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.
When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.
You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.
But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.
They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.
You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.
“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”
The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.
“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”
“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”
“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.
“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”
You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.
“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”
“Would you kiss me?”
“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”
This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.
“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”
“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.
“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.
You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.
He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.
He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.
His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.
You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.
After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.
Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
5K notes · View notes
frantic-fiction · 5 months
Text
Tease 18+
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(Pic: cheekylittlepupp)
Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x Tav
Summary: The party is taking the night off. You're convinced to wear a dress, and Astarion just can't control himself.
Warnings: Smut, MDNI, Semi-public sex, caught in the act?
Word Count: 3.2k
Mastarlist
Standing in front of the mirror, you pull at the dark green fabric, tugging it down this way and that. You try again to tie the corset but give up quickly. You swing your hips, and the flowy skirt swishes, tickling the skin above your knees. Looking yourself up and down, you zone in on your hips, squirming at the fabric extenuating your curves. So much skin on display makes you want to steal someone's spare cloak to hide in. You weren't one to be self-conscious, but you're used to donning armor and leather, not this scrap of fabric Karlach had convinced you to buy. 
You should just change. Grab some leggings and one of Astarion's shirts, and call it a night. You didn't need a dress to catch his eye; you know how Astarion feels about you; wearing a dress won't change that. Backing away from the mirror, you're just about to rip the dress off when Karlach bursts into the room, Shadowheart following behind her at a much tamer pace. 
"Soldier!" Karlach squeals, stopping suddenly in the middle of the room. She slaps her hands on either side of her face. "You. Are. Gorgeous!" Your face burns as Karlach pounces on you, spinning you around to give her the best view from every angle. Heat creeps up your chest and you giggle awkwardly.
"She's right, you look stunning," Shadowheart smirked and added, "Ten gold Astarion won't be able to keep it in his pants."
"20, he won't make it to a room," Karlach shouts.
"Gods! You both are ridiculous." You squeal, swatting Karlach's hands away and stepping back from her excitement. You huff and fix your skirt. Crossing your hands over your chests, you glare at the girls before timidly looking off to the side. "So, I don't look silly?" The hesitation is evident.
"All joking aside, I assure you, soldier, you are beautiful. And I know for a fact Fangs won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."
You beam under Karlach's compliment, doing a few excited calf raises because you have no idea how else to handle her words. Shadowheart moves towards you and fixes a fallen strand of hair. She gives you a soft smile and moves to finish lacing your corset, patting your arm when she’s done.
"Now we should go. The others are waiting downstairs," Shadowheart motions everyone to the door, letting you take a moment to slip your shoes on. 
After months of endless travels and brutal battles, the party decided to take the evening to drink, relax, and enjoy each other's company. A night to forget the tadpoles and the Absolute. All except Lae'zel, who scoffed at the idea, were joining in on the fun.
Descending the stairs, you slammed with the melody of lively tunes played by a band of minstrels, competing with the animated conversations of patrons. The music, infused with the spirit of celebration, is so loud that it vibrates through the wooden beams of the tavern. The dance floor is alive with energetic movements as couples twirl and spin to the rhythm and the joyous laughter of those lost in the moment.
The bar is surrounded by a sea of drunk patrons clamoring for attention. Tankards slammed onto the worn surface as the bartender poured frothy ale and mead expertly. The dim light of flickering candles and oil lamps casts a warm glow on the diverse crowd. The unmistakable odors of stale ale, greasy food, and the tang of sweat intermingle in the air, creating a distinctive nostalgic and pungent aroma. You're lost in the crowd's movement, overwhelmed with the sounds. You grab onto Shadowheart's elbow like a lifeline.
"Karlach!" Wyll calls and you all snap your head to the side. The party had claimed a booth, and Gale and Wyll were standing up, waving their arms over their heads. They looked like they started early on the drinking; both men's faces were flush, and they each held an easy, dopey grin.
"Wyll!" Karlach linked her arms with yours and Shadowheart's and approached the table. You let her pull you, too busy searching for him. Astarion is slow to stand, but you know the moment he sets his eyes on you. You watch the subtle change in his body language. His hand tightened around the goblet; the exaggerated inhale of air as if someone had kicked him, watching the hunger grow in his eyes.
Now, you feel the confidence bloom in your chest. The dress no longer makes you squirm in discomfort; no, it gives you power and makes you feel desired and sexy. The flame ignites low in your abdomen. Suddenly, you were playing with fire and excited to get burned. A smug smile stretches your lips the closer you get. Pulling away from Karlach, you move and hook your arms around Astarion's neck. You pull him down and place a kiss on his cheek.
"Hi, handsome," you smile up at him, feeling his hand caress the small of your back. Cold fingers playing at the edge of the corset.
"Hello darling, you look breathtaking." He pushes you back gently, giving him space to take in your attire. "Turn for me, my love. Let me look upon the goddess before me."
You roll your eyes at his cheesiness but oblige his request, spinning slowly to allow Astarion to take in every angle. When you come full circle, Astarion captures your lips, and you fall against his chest. His lips meld against yours in a sensual kiss that was entirely inappropriate for the amount of people around, but neither of you seemed to care. Humming against his mouth, you cup his jaw and pull his face away. Astarion chases your lips and lets out a low groan when you deny him what he wants.  
You give Astarion a mischievous grin, patting his chest when you ask. "Do you mind getting me a drink?" 
He gives you a pointed look, visibly dissatisfied with his kiss. With one look and your hand running up his chest and over his shoulder, Astarion caves with a huff. "Yes, of course. Would you like your usual?"
"Yes, please." You say pecking his lips a final time before joining your friends in the booth. 
Wyll was regaling the table with a tale of his early days as the Blade of Frontiers when Astarion slides in beside you. He sets your drink down, and you whisper your thanks before taking a sip and focusing back on Wyll. Gale is quick to call out Wyll's bullshit, Shadowheart pointing out the exaggeration the warlock had blended into his story. It soon devolved into a bickering match as Wyll tried to defend himself. You chuckle between sips of wine, leaning into Astarion, setting your head gently against his shoulder. His hand had found your bare thigh, fingers kneading the supple flesh. 
Suddenly, your friends become background noise as your senses hone in on Astarion. The cheeky smirk that stretches his lips tells you he knows exactly what he's doing as Astarion inches his smooth hand further under your dress—never crossing the line but far enough to make you clench your legs together in need. You bite your lip, cheeks burning from more than the alcohol, and reach down to take his hand in yours. 
"I know what you're doing,"
"Oh, and what is that, my dear?" Astarion grins, bringing your hand to his lips and gently kissing your knuckles. He leans to your ear, "Do you not want me to touch you?" His breath cascades over your neck, and a shiver runs up your spine.
"Not when you're trying to tease me in public."
"My sweet girl, I'm not the one being a tease."
"Soldier! Stop making goo-goo eyes at Fangs, and come dance with me!" Karlach yells across the table, breaking whatever spell Astarion had you under. Pulling away, you look up to see Karlach jumping up and down, hand outstretched for you to take. 
"You know I won't say no to dancing." Astarion reluctantly moves to let you out of the booth. Karlach is quick to grab your hand and pull you towards the stage. 
The time is lost in the beat of the drums and the flow of your hips. Karlach twirls you around, and you can't stop giggling. Wyll joins in the fun, and suddenly, the crowd has formed a unified line dance. It's messy, and you don't know the steps, but you watch Wyll and poke fun at Karlach's improvised moves. You dance until your breath is ragged and your feet start hurting. Moving your body until the sea of people starts to drown you. Maybe it's the alcohol coursing through your veins or the excitement of the dancing. Still, the fun quickly turns to overstimulation that blankets you in thick sheets. In an instant, the room is too hot and too loud, and if you don't get out now, you just might scream.
You leave Karlach and move towards the door outside to the back alley. Pushing it open, you stumble over the threshold and inhale the cold night air. It instantly sobers, clearing your mind and easing your panic. You stare up at the starry sky, soaking in the bright moon. Goosebumps spread over your exposed arms and legs, and you shiver. It doesn't stop you from stepping further into the alleyway as you breathe and allow your heart to settle its pounding. You can still hear the muffled music and thumping feet. 
You hear the door open again but pay it no mind until Astarion speaks, "There you are, my sweet."
You turn on your heel and give him a soft smile. He glowed under the moonlight, an ethereal being standing before you, his face partially cast in shadow, staring at you with hunger. "I needed some air."
"I'm sure you did," Astarion smirks, stepping closer toward you. A predator stalks up to its prey. "All that dancing you were doing must have been exhausting."
"It was, but it was so fun." You reach out instinctually, wrapping your arms around his neck. Astarion smoothes his hands down your spine to the swell of your butt, moving to squeeze the soft, plump flesh. "You should join me next time." You squeak at his grip, pressing yourself closer to him.
Then his lips are on yours, and your back is digging into the rough brick of the alleyway. Astarion's tongue is in your mouth, and you're moaning, gripping his shoulders to find purchase. One of his fangs nipped your bottom lip, and your knees practically buckled under you. You would have fallen if Astarion hadn't pressed you against the wall. 
"I think I just might take you dancing tomorrow." His cold hands caress your thigh, pulling it up and over his hip, pushing up the fabric of your dress with it. "I'll buy you a pretty new dress to add to your growing collection, and I'll have you move your body for me like you've been doing all night." 
He rolls his hips into yours, and you cry into his neck, kissing his skin to muffle your noises. "Swaying those hips in this tight little thing. Gods darling, I've been hard all night, and it's entirely your fault, you naughty little minx."
"Astarion," You sigh, relishing the friction of his hard cock against your clothed core. 
"Such a cruel woman, dangling a feast over a starving man. I'll have to punish you for that." Astarion purrs, running his nose along the line of your jaw, stopping to bite at his favorite spot; his fangs puncture the surface just enough to have droplets of your blood trickle out.
His tongue lavishes over your skin, making sure not a drop escapes. The moan that rumbles through his chest is purely animalistic, and a rush of heat gushes between your legs. "But right now, my naughty girl, I'm going to fuck you here against this wall." 
You let out a whimper, hips bucking instinctually, heat coiling in your lower stomach. "Please.." 
Astarion takes no time to push your underwear aside and push two of his fingers into your folds with a lewd, wet sound. Astarion begins to pump his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, with each stroke curling up just slightly. The rough pad of his thumb finds your swollen clit, and applying pressure, he circles the nub in time with his fingers. 
"You're already so drenched, always so ready for me." You pull his face in and sigh into his mouth, niping his lip playfully. Threading your hand through his soft curls, you give a soft tug, relishing in the grunt Astarion gives you. 
You're painfully aware of your surroundings and know that someone could step out and catch the two of you any moment. The thought gives you a jolt of excitement you'll have to think about later. There is no room to take your time, so you tug harder on Astarion's hair loss, pulling his lips from the flesh of your neck he was playing with.
"Star," You roll your hips against his hand impatiently. "I need you to fuck me already,"
"So impatient, but you are right. This is not the time to play." Astarion tsk before unceremoniously ripping your underwear off and stuffing them in his pocket. 
"I liked those."
"I'll buy you a new pair, maybe one to match your new dress." Astarion peppers kiss down your neck. Your hands move to pull his pants down, freeing his cock. It's red and looks painfully swollen. Astarion hisses through his teeth when you give the base of his cock a tight squeeze. 
"I want one that matches the new dress and the same ones you just ripped." You countered, giving him a few languid strokes using his precum as a lubricant. 
"Whatever you want, my love." He says mindlessly, taking you into another breathtaking kiss.
Astarion hands leave your cunt, and a whine leaves your lips. He kisses your pout and quickly grabs his cock. Astarion pumps himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. When Astarion sheaths himself fully in your heat, the wind is knocked out of you. A collective groan of ecstasy escapes from both of your mouths. There is no build-up, no room to catch your breath. Astarion quickly pulls out and slams back into you—your back scraps against the bricks, and your foot slips on the cobblestone.
You yelp scrambling to hold on and not fall pathetically onto the dirty alley floor. Astarion, without skipping a beat, scoops you up fully in his arms. All you can do is wrap your legs around his hips and hold on as he pounds into your dripping cunt. 
"Gods, you're perfect," Astarion signs into your neck. He pulls at your dress, moving the corset just enough to expose one of your breasts. He bends his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth. You choke on a gasp; cupping the back of his head, you press him further against you. 
"Astarion," you moan, carding your fingers into his curls. Rolling your hips, you match his thrusts. Your lower stomach tightens, and you will not last much longer. Not with him pulling you apart in the way only he can. You tried to say as much, but you choke on a sob when Astarion's fingers find your clit. 
He grinds your hips into the brick wall and brutalizes your clit with tight circles. His voice is raspy in your ears. "I'm close, love…ngh - gods, you feel so good."
"A-astarion, please!" Tears bead down your cheeks, pleasure overwhelming your senses. Your muscles are tightening. Your legs quake, and you clench tightly around him. 
"That’s it, come for me, beautiful." And that is all you need to see stars, opening your mouth in a silent cry. Ecstasy courses through your veins, and you bite down on his collarbone to ground yourself in your pleasure. His hips stutter, pace faltering as he loses himself in your body, spilling his seed deep into you. 
Neither of you moves; the brick is now uncomfortably digging into your back, but you can't find the energy to care. Astarion peppers kiss up and down your neck. You scratch his scalp softly and catch your breath. It’s nice.
"I guess I should wear more dresses."
"My dear, you could wear a burlap sack, and I would have still taken you against this wall."
"Horny bastard." 
The two of you were too caught up in each other to notice the tavern door opening again. Nor did either of you notice two figures stepping out. At least not until Karlach's loud cackle echoed down the alleyway. You whip your head in her direction, Astarion following suit. Karlach is hunched over and on her knees, shoulders shaking with laughter. Shadowheart stands beside her, arms crossed with disgust and annoyance plastered on her face.
Astarion is quick to turn you away, shielding you with his body. He let’s you go and you scramble to cover yourself. He helps you fix your dress. Great. 
"What did I tell you? Fangs couldn't keep it in his pants long enough to find a room!" Karlach booms, slapping Shadowheart on the arm. "Hand it over," her palm extended in wait. You hide your face in Astarion's neck, face burning in embarrassment. 
Shadowheart mumbled something under her breath, digging in her pocket for her gold pouch. "Here," the gold is slapped into the tieflings palm. She turns to the two of you. "Find a different cleric to cure whatever disease you've contracted in this filthy alley." Shadowheart quickly turns back into the tavern, the door slamming behind her. 
"Well, thanks for the gold," The tiefling beams and skips after Shadowheart, leaving you and Astarion alone once more. 
You refuse to leave the space between Astarion's jaw and collarbone. Thoughts of packing your stuff and running to Candlekeep are crossing your mind. Karlach and Shadowheart are already telling Wyll and Gale about your exploits, and you don't want to handle the smug looks. 
Astarion's chest rumbles with silent laughter, and you're pulled from your escape plans. You emerge from your safe space and glare up at the man. "What's so funny?!" 
He laughs harder, and runs his thumb over your pout, cupping your jaw. You hold firm in your annoyance and turn your head. "Karlach is telling all of our friends that we just fucked in a dirty back alley, why would you be laughing?" You snap.
"You would think at this point Shadowheart would stop betting on our love life. Tsk, all the gold she's lost." You narrow your eyes at him. His playful smirk widens. "She and the other weirdos should know how shamelessly I want you. They were lucky I didn't fuck you on the table." 
Rolling your eyes, you shove him hard, forcing Astarion to stumble back. Moving past you storm towards the door; he's laughing and calling your name. Astarion, only get your middle finger before the tavern door closes behind you.
Astarion is a cheeky shit. I love him.... Let me know what ya thought, i love your feedback.
Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna
3K notes · View notes
ozzgin · 6 months
Text
Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)
A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.
Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
TW: Obsessive behavior, violence
Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten
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The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.
"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 
Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.
"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."
Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 
"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"
Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.
"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"
True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 
So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).
"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"
The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.
"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 
The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 
With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 
That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 
That settles it. 
"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.
A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.
Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 
Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 
"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."
"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 
There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 
"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.
There's always a next time.
The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 
Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 
"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.
"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"
Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.
The yakuza is taken aback. 
"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 
"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."
Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...
He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 
"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"
He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 
"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.
"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 
"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 
The two men exchange a knowing look.
You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 
You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.
You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.
As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 
From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?
You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 
You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 
"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.
Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.
"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 
"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 
The blonde man stares at you. 
"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"
"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.
Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.
"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.
"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"
Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 
As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.
"Y-you thought we were dating?"
"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."
"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 
You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.
"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 
You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 
"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 
Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 
"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 
You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.
"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."
"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.
"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.
"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."
Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 
Bonus: Daitou's backstory 
"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"
Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.
"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 
"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."
"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 
After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 
"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"
He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.
"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."
"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 
"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"
You nod.
"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."
You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 
"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"
The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.
"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."
Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 
"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 
He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 
"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.
They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."
You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 
"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.
Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.
I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.
We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.
You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."
You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.
"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 
He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 
You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 
That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."
You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 
"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.
Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."
Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.
"Or for you. Especially you."
3K notes · View notes
propertyofwicked · 12 days
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ROOKIE - LN
based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧
warnings - none! just fluff (not proofread), oblivious reader and lando
part 2 !!
masterlist the playlist
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the sun was shining brightly over the racetrack, casting on the 4 karts, lined up behind the group. max stood behind the camera, making sure everyone was in frame before running round to join Lando. at his other side stood y/n - long term friend of the two, and unofficial quadrant member.
lando flashed a wide grin at the camera.
“hey, everyone!” he announced, clapping his hands together, “welcome back to the quadrant channel. today, we have something special for you. me and max are going to teach our karting rookie here how to drive on a track like a pro,” he add, hands moving to gesture in y/n direction.
she smiled, waving awkwardly at the camera. it wasn’t her first time featuring on the channel, but she usually made small appearances when the whole team filmed. at the start, viewers had assumed she was lando’s girlfriend, noticing the way the two interacted with each other. but she wasn’t - not to say there wasn’t anything between the two of them, but they were just too stubborn to talk about it.
“you nervous?” lando asked her, smiling lightly.
“no different to driving a car right?” she replied, smiling back at him.
“not the way you drive, i guess,” he retorted, earning a light slap to his arm.
“so!” max started, clapping too as he faced the camera, “we’re starting y/n off in the lowest powered kart, and working our way up. when she’s comfortable, we’re going to have a small competition,” he added, his tone holding emphasised mystery.
it was y/n turn to speak to the camera.
“do i also need to clap when i start my sentence?” she asked max, grinning as she did. y/n could see niran burst into laughter behind the camera, all too familiar with the “who claps the most” argument.
“sorry, sorry,” she jokingly defended, holding up her hands when she caught max and lando both giving her a look filled with distaste. she turned back to the camera, “we will be seeing if the student really becomes the master, as i take on lando in a time-trialled race.”
the group moved closer to the first kart, y/n zipping up the rest of her protective clothing as they moved, balancing her helmet in the crevice of her arm.
“right, helmet on!” lando told her, though he moved to tuck loose hairs, that had fallen from her ponytail, behind her ears before grabbing the helmet from her, pushing it over her head. his hands rested on the side for a moment, wobbling her head slightly before moving to pop the visor up and look her in the eyes.
“comfortable?” he asked her, watching as she nodded, “ready?”
she hesitated for a moment, before nodding again. y/n wasn’t worried about injuring herself, no, she feared that she would do a bad job and the video wouldn’t be a good watch.
“you’ll be fine, angel, i promise,” he reassured her, his fingers moving to pull the zip of her suit up further, “if not, we blame max,” he joked. the two of them looked at the man stood on the other side of the kart, who quickly turned his head as though he hadn’t been watching the two interact, wondering when they’d figure whatever this was out. though he didn’t supposed it mattered, if this footage was left in the viewers would be quick to point it out, as they always did.
“it’s ok - if something bad happens, you’re the one that has to tell my mum,” y/n replied with a shrug, trying to grin despite her face being squashed.
“bagsy not me this time!” max called out.
“not fair! i did it last time!” lando shouted back childishly.
“in max’s defence, last time was your fault, lan,” y/n chimed in, patting his shoulder, “and all you did was leave a voicemail!”
“hiya, it’s lando - just letting you know y/n is in the hospital, but she’s fine. probably,” max mimicked, recalling the way lando left quite possibly the worst voicemail anyone had ever.
“not my finest moment, i’ll admit,” lando replied quietly before trying to manoeuvre the woman in front of him towards the kart.
y/n moved to climb into the first kart, her hand gripping tightly at lando’s arm to use as support before she sat down fully. he squatted down next to her, max following suit on the other side, before explaining the basics to her - when to brake, when to speed up, when to take a corner wide.
“last thing - the steering wheel,” he continued, making sure the mic could pick up his voice. his hands reached out to grab hers, placing them in the correct position on the wheel.
“what about the pedals?” she asked him.
“the same as normal? accelerator….brake?” he added, smiling as he pointed to each pedal as though it was obvious.
y/n nodded up at him, before grabbing the steering wheel and pretending to drive, making a ‘neeyowwwm’ noise as she did.
“she’s fine,” max laughed out, “strap her in and we’ll get started. oh, y/n don’t forget you have a the mic and the headset so we can communicate as you go round the track.”
“you’re doing great!” lando’s voice sounded through her earpiece, full of encouragement, “brake a little earlier for this next turn.”
y/n grinned, confidence growing with each lap. she was now onto the last kart, one lap left before she was supposed to race lando.
“how’s that?”
“perfect! you’re a natural,” he praised, his pride evident.
“i’m gonna kick your ass,” she threatened as she neared the finish line.
“looking forward to it,” lando remarked, this time in person as he stepped towards the side of her kart, “10 minute break before we race?”
“please,” she replied, nodding up and moving her hands to undo the straps before pushing herself up to step out from the kart. her balance faltered slightly as she did, though lando’s arms had shot out, his hands gripping her waist to steady her as she stepped out from the kart. even when y/n was fine to walk alone, lando’s hands never left, his hand firmly positioned on her lower back as they walked towards max.
“how was that,” max asked her, his eyes darting from lando to the woman who was struggling to pull her helmet off.
“really good,” she replied with an enthusiastic nod once lando had helped to pull the helmet from her head, “not sure on that last corner but we’ll see how it goes.”
“seemed alright on that last lap,” max reassured her, though he couldn’t help but notice the way lando looked at her face, smiling fondly as she explained how she might approach the race.
“right, it is finally time!” max called out, facing the camera as y/n took a seat in the kart behind him, “the moment we have all been waiting for. lando norris, formula one racer versus karting rookie y/n.”
“karting rooki- max i have so many better attributes to describe me?” y/n called out jokingly.
“sorry - lando norris, formula one racer versus ‘nine points on her license’ y/n!” he joked, “is that better?”
“NINE? i do not have nine points on my license?” she retorted, “it’s like 3?”
“it’s nine,” lando interrupted with a snort as he crouched down next to her to check her straps were tight enough, “two counts of speeding, and that one time you ran a red light - am i wrong?” he added with a grin.
y/n shook her head at him, though her silence confirmed his claim. the three moved on quickly, y/n finding herself breathing in sharply as lando pulled on the straps too hard, tightening them around her ribs.
“sorry,” he mumbled, loosening them slightly, “breathe out f’me,” he added, checking that she had room, before muttering a quick perfect as she did.
anyone who believed lando would go easy on y/n was a fool. she’d managed a good few overtakes, took corners well and maintained her speed, but as they approached the last lap lando seemed to slip further away. even with her foot to the floor, her kart was slowing more and more until the engine fully gave up, spluttering a few times before dying.
“well this is embarrassing,” she announced, looking into the gopro attached to the kart as she did.
“hold still for a moment, y/n,” max said through her headset, “need lando to stop before you can get out.”
so y/n sat, waiting for lando to stop so that she could climb out from the kart and do her walk of shame back to base. but she didn’t have to wait long before she saw lando jogging towards her.
“you good?” he asked her on approach, his helmet long abandoned with his kart.
“the engine just died on me,” she told him, annoyed.
“i told max i thought i could hear it struggling when i passed you,” he told her, holding out his hand for her to climb out, “however, can’t have you not finish your first ever karting race.”
“what?”
“climb on,” lando told her, crouching slightly and tapping his back for her to climb on.
y/n didn’t argue, she knew she’d lose. so she stood behind him, bouncing slightly before jumping onto his back, his hands moving to grab her legs and her arms wrapping around his neck loosely. he started running towards the finish line, y/n clinging tightly onto him whilst mimicking car noises, lando laughing loudly as she did.
“you two look like you’ve been doing this for years,” max called out, breathing through his laughter at the sight in front of him.
“we have,” they said in unison as they approached him. max knew this - he himself had fallen victim to giving y/n a piggyback a fair few times over the years - however it didn’t make the situation less funny to him.
lando placed y/n down with a soft thud, before realising something, his eyes widening.
“wait who won?”
“what do you mean ‘who won’?” she asked confused, “my engine died, lando.”
“i didn’t cross the line,” he whined, “i went to get you before i crossed it.”
“funny you should ask,” max interrupted, using the opportunity to turn to the camera set up, “we ran the VAR and…”
“are you waiting for a drumroll or…?” lando asked impatiently.
“don’t be mean,” y/n told him, slapping his arm lightly, “god forbid you not be so competitive for once.”
“so!” max started again, knowing their bickering could last hours if he didn’t interrupt, “we ran the VAR and you’ll be glad to know that….y/n - your foot was the first to cross the line!”
“yes!” she cheered, pumping her fist dramatically.
“how is that right? i was carrying her?” lando whined again.
“her foot was in front of you mate,” max laughed, “should’ve tucked it behind you if you wanted to win so bad,” he added, shrugging.
“that is the last time i do anything nice for you,” lando seethed jokingly, turning to face y/n before ruffling his hand through her hair to mess it up.
she dodged his hand quickly, head jerking sideways as she shouted at him.
“you’re such a sore loser.”
“i am not.”
“rematch?”
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