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#I keep thinking back on the other question
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Sting - LN
Summary: Rejection isn't something Lando is unfamiliar with in his love life and while it's never nice. This time it really stings and she's harder to let go than any other girl who has turned him away, maybe because she doesn't sound so sure about rejecting him.
Aston Martin employee!reader
Themes: smut
No part 2 requests please
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"I'm really flattered, but I think it's a bad idea." Y/n smiles trying to make it so it's not awkward but it's really hard to reject someone who just asked you out and it not be awkward. "I'm sorry, Lando."
Truth be told the two have got really close. Y/n is Aston Martin's social media manager, though Fernando handles a lot of it himself. She sort of aids him through any confusion and Lance prefers not to be involved in it a lot so she handles all his accounts, though he can log in and do stuff himself. She has access to all the team and driver social media accounts.
But her and Lando befriended each other purely through continuously being around each other and Lando having grown an obvious crush.
"Why is it a bad idea?" Lando asks trying not to lose his confidence.
"I think we're just really good as friends." Y/n states looking as if she's trying to keep up a positive front. Though she quickly softens a little and speaks up again. "You're a great guy. But I'm just not at a point in my life that I want to be dating anyone. I'm so...focused on my job and I think right now, I would say no to anyone."
"So you're saying it's not me it's you?" Lando surmises making earn nod a little, the guilt on her expression beginning to get hard to hide. "Don't feel bad."
"Never feels great rejecting someone." Y/n mumbles before Fernando appears shouting her name. "I have to go. That's his I have the most marvellous idea and need your help call."
"Good luck." Lando nods then turning and sighing as he heads into the McLaren unit straight towards his drivers room where Jon is standing setting up some warm up stuff.
"You don't look happy." Jon comments making her look at him for a moment. "Y/n say no?"
"Exactly that." Lando grumbles then growing as he throws himself onto the physio bed. "She said she's not in the right place for a relationship and is focusing on her job...which I can't actually argue with. But I'm still not really happy about it."
"You know-"
"I know." Lando mutters, not actually knowing but not really wanting to be told something about the situation. He's not happy, but he can't be angry about it either. "It just stings."
And it does, there was something about being friend zoned that really hurt this time. It's not as if he's never been rejected before, hell despite his popularity he's found himself the victim of so many friend zones that he has lost count. Embarrassingly.
It never feels particularly good, but this time really stings.
Maybe it's because they are friends and they have to see each other and he really doesn't want to lose her as a friend. The problem is that he wants her as much more than a friend.
-
Y/n and Lando continued to be friends, to spend time together and to have the amazing back and forth of flirting.
"You know, it is a shame that y/n can't date you." Fernando comments as they walk around the paddock. Y/n not there with the older driver for once. "The two of you get along so well, when she told me why she said no I couldn't believe it."
"What do you mean?" Lando frowns not thinking her reason was all that unbelievable. She's prioritising her job. What about that is so shocking?
"Well Lawrence saying she can date within the team but no one from another team. It seems a little bit far fetch to demand. Her love life is not his business or even team business, no?" Fernando questions making Lando's face drop.
"Lawrence? Like Lawrence Stroll?"
"The owner of the team, yes. He has it written in everyone's contract. He even got reports about her getting close to you, took her in for a meeting and she left practically in tears. I had to get her flowers to help her feel better." Fernando states sounding almost fatherly towards the young woman as he speaks in disapproval of it all.
Lando actually feels like he's just been punched in the gut with this information.
Why didn't she tell him?
Maybe because he almost certainly would've said they can hide it. He would've tried to talk her into a plan of just keeping it secret. After all they're friends, so long as they keep the PDA to what it is now then there's no real risk.
"I know she did not tell you about the contract clause. But I think you should know. Maybe you can do something about it." Fernando explains, essentially admitting he informed Lando with an ulterior motive that was not as innocent as Lando had initially assumed.
-
It took some poking at Fernando, but Lando got her hotel room from the Spaniard.
So later he shows up knocking on her door with no relenting even when there's no answer. Mainly because he messaged her about an hour ago and knows she's there.
The door swings open and she is glaring at him, holding a towel tightly around her wet body which honestly stirs something in Lando that he wasn't expecting to be forced to deal with upon coming to see her.
"I-Lando, what are you doing here?" Y/n stutters out, pulling her towel tighter around herself.
"We need to talk."
"Now?" Y/n frowns almost feeling helpless about it.
"Yes. Now."
Y/n looks around before stepping aside and gesturing for Lando to come in, which he does before she closes the door.
"So what is so important that you couldn't wait and had to smash on my door loud enough for a noise complaint?" Y/n questions trying to figure if she wants to put clothes on while Lando tries to keep his hands from pulling that towel off.
"You didn't tell me it was in your contract that you can't date me."
"Well it's not you specifically." Y/n frowns earning a slightly look of annoyance. "It doesn't matter if you know or not. It's not going to change anything."
Y/n looks at Lando who seems to be visibly with the cogs turning in his head. The man couldn't hide an emotion on his face if he tried and right now, he's thinking.
"Ok, while you process. Can I put some clothes on?"
"I'd really rather you didn't." Lando shrugs making her sigh at him and adjust her towel again. "We could just not tell people."
"You realise I would lose my job." Y/n frowns while Lando frowns.
"I'll get you a new job. The same job but on a better team." Lando tries making her look at him in slightly amusement. "Don't give me that look."
"What look?"
"Like I'm coming up with some childish fantasy."
"That is exactly what you're doing. I don't know what you expect me to do when that is genuinely what's happening here." Y/n states with a shrug as Lando steps towards her. "Lando...don't do something we'll regret."
"Will you regret it?"
"If it costs me my job then yes."
"But we're not dating...or is it that you can't have sex with anyone from another team too?'
"You're trying to get into the fine print?"
"Depends what the fine print says."
"I can't have relations with anyone from another team. So actually yes, I'm not allowed to have sex with you either."
Lando hums biting his lip lightly as he looks at her for a moment and she tries not to ruin her freshly showered state by sweating as his hand comes up and tugs the damp towel away.
Once glimpse at her body had his head dropping back with a groan echoing through his throat.
"Fucking hell, y/n. You can't force me to leave, please don't make me leave."
Y/n isn't usually so eager to just give herself to a man who she has yet to even kiss, especially after having rejected him so recently but she doesn't say anything.
Lando's hand moves down her waist, stroking her exposed skin while she swallows thickly. She's already decided his touch feels far too good for her to move away from it or say she doesn't want this.
"Want me to stop?"
"No." Y/n mumbles and that's all Lando needs.
Hands on her waist as he pushed her back till her knees hit the edge of the bed and she falls back onto the soft surface.
"Are you sure you want this?" Lando asks stopping and giving her the opportunity to back out. He might be feeling like he'll die if he doesn't get to at least touch every inch of her body. But he's not about to do something that she'll hate both himself and herself for.
"Yes. Don't make me overthink this." Y/n mumbles and Lando really doesn't have to be told twice.
There's something about the situation that stops him from going completely feral on the young woman. Instead he's going to really take his time.
Lando has no problem just looking at her, keeping his gaze fixed on her before he leans over and gets to do the one thing that he's been waiting to do for far too long.
Just fucking kiss the girl.
She tastes like mint, presumably having brushed her teeth before or after the shower.
But he moves his lips down her body, leaving a trail over marks on her skin, his teeth nip as he shamelessly leaves love bites as evidence he was there. He doesn't care how childish might be. He's giving her a memory of this moment that goes beyond right now.
All he can hear is her almost panting and when he is low enough that he throws her legs over his shoulders and uses the position to push her further up the bed for a better angle and access to her.
"Lando." Y/n whimpers just feeling him spread her lips and his breath hitting her pussy which is admittedly still wet from her shower really, but he can see her quivering and the sound of his name from her voice is enough for him to know it's pleasure that he's causing.
"Tell me what you want." Lando instructs feeling her thigh tense to fight the urge of closing and bringing herself some sort of relief.
"You. I want your mouth on me giving me the best head I've ever got." Y/n states not even hesitating and Lando almost wants to applaud her for how impressed he is she actually answered and did not stutter meaning no area of confusion.
He knows exactly what she wants from him and he's more than happy to deliver on it.
"Lando please."
He didn't actually mean to hesitate to the point of hearing her beg, but it certainly isn't an unwelcome sound. But he doesn't waste anymore time and dives in between her legs properly lapping his tongue and groaning at the fact that she might've just showered but there's a slick there telling him that if he had any doubt of her being turned on. He doesn't need to doubt it from the taste of her on his tongue.
Y/n feels so completely desperate for Lando, she didn't realise how immediately addictive his touch would be.
"F-Fuck, L-Lando." Y/n moans, pressing herself heavily into the bed beneath her.
Her hand reaches down to his hair, tugs on his scalp pulling him closer much to his delight. He's face is smothered in her and he's feeling the side of him that wanted to drag this experience out suddenly disappear as soon as he feels her twitching in a build up and then completely spasming on his tongue. Her thighs locking on his head trying to contain herself as she almost tries to move away from him as if the sensation is all too much, but he keeps his hands on her thighs stopping her from getting anywhere till he's made sure she's rode out this orgasm for as long as possible.
Actually to his surprise, despite him making no effort to let up as she moans and moves her hands to the sheets trying to ground herself from the overstimulation.
When he finally moves off there's a matter of seconds which is him, his body drags up against her with the perfect amount of pressure on her that she's grappling for him.
"What do you want?" Lando asks, breath hot and his face wet. His lips look almost swollen and his face is flushed. She can't even stop herself from reach a hand to his face for a moment both of them slightly breathless.
"I want you, inside me. Right now. Please." Y/n pants which is all Lando needs to reach down, gently pushing the tip in before moving his hand to hook a hand under her knee, pushing her leg back for a better angle which is very much perfectly effective.
Lando almost chokes on his spit from the feeling of her wrapped around him. The idea of holding back on her crosses his mind, but that's all it does and then it disappears along with any sense of self-control.
He's only relieved to hear y/n whimpering and moaning through every thrust which is almost a no mercy approach from Lando, just pounding into her not able to even entertain the idea of slowing down. He already knows he abusing her g-spot from the 2nd or 3rd thirst thanks to her reaction and when he reaches down to pinch at her clit.
Y/n practically cries from the additional stimulation. Her nerves short-circuiting from such attention. He's touching her like he owns her body and knows it's every secret that even she had yet to make use of.
He feels her start to quiver around him, fighting off a second orgasm but it doesn't last long as she completely tightens around him, still trying to deny herself the high that her body is on the verge of being pushed over the edge of.
"Let it go, baby." Lando states with a voice so heavy in lust that it completely pours over her like he's setting out to melted her. She's arched up against him and clenched down around him. Her spasming around him in such a way that Lando is locked in her as he cums, both in a shared world of bliss.
Y/n's body takes it's time to actually relax while Lando keeps himself pressed as deep in her as possible, his face in her neck.
"Ok...Ok, maybe...maybe we could try keeping this hidden...just until I find another job that doesn't contractual obligate me to not date someone from another team." Y/n pants running a hand up through his hair as she tries to catch her breath and actually stop seeing start. "So long as you promise to do that again."
"I'll do that and more." Lando grunts pulling out and sighing as he looks at her from the shifted back position. "That's a promise."
"Good." Y/n smiles before he kisses her a couple times.
"I think you might need another shower."
"I'll do it in a bit...I still need just...a bit of recovery time." Y/n yawns almost feeling like falling asleep from the amount of energy that just completely burn through any energy she had. "Actually I might need food, water and a nap before I even consider getting up."
Lando smiles kissing her again, now loving to abuse this new privilege.
"I'll take care of you." Lando smiles then getting up while she frowns.
"What are you doing?" Y/n questions making him grin leaning back over her for another kiss. "Ok, that's lovely but not an answer."
"Don't move." Lando grins then pushing her back onto the bed. "I'm good at both orgasms and aftercare."
Y/n sighs taking a moment to realise this man really just turned her world upside down. But to her surprise it's in the best way. Even if Fernando is about to throttle Lawrence for the contract clause that is going to lead to her inevitable departure from Aston Martin just so she can pursue a relationship with Lando.
But there's pretty good reason (good sex) with a man who has very apparently made his point that he isn't wavering on his feelings for her.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @racingheartsposts @c-losur3
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boyfhee · 1 day
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박성훈 、PRETTY FACE
all the trouble sunghoon gets himself in lands him in your arms.
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featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader
contents ⋆ kissing, mentions of cuts, injuries and blood, just a whole lot of fluff i miss writing cute stuff, insecurities perhaps ( 1370 )
notes ⋆ rich boy sunghoon....save me from him. also this was not meant to be above a thousand words and was supposed to be funny. and this one's for saint @hoonvrs hi bae
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one thing you’ve learnt while dating sunghoon, it’s always an adventure. so unforeseen, like when he showed up at your balcony, again, last night with a few bruises and cuts on his face. you had let him in and he avoids your attempt at cupping his face just as swiftly. and dating sunghoon is exhilarating, with the way you let him stay for the night, again, knowing your parents are home.
“good morning,” you smile and brush your thumb over the cut on the corner of his lips. it’s red, his lips are dry, and yet they’re soft when you lean down for a quick peck. 
“morning, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “how creepy of you to watch me sleep,”
“guess i’ll be a creep if it means i get to look at your handsome face,” you hum, fighting back a smile.
“is that a compliment i hear?” and he’s almost turning away to sleep, but your words catch him off, and he smirks drowsily with a soft and sleepy gaze adorning you. “what’s the occasion?”
“i’m serious, hoon. you’re handsome,” you insist with a frown, cupping his face again, thumb brushing over his cheeks as you lean in and whisper ever so tenderly. “so handsome, it’s crazy,”
“well, aren’t you sweet, my love,” and he can’t help but wrap his arms around you, pulling you on top of him. it’s quiet, you lay with your head on his chest. it’s barely six, you look out through the huge glass window panes installed in your room by your request to fit the aesthetic, but now it’s how sunghoon climbs up your room every other night. 
it’s not usual for him to get compliments. usually, you’re trying to play it cool, as if his words don’t affect you as much as he thinks they do. on other days, you’re busy rolling your eyes every time he flirts. you make him work for compliments, it’s funny, and he enjoys it. a little bit of challenge in his way too easy lifestyle keeps him going. but today— as you’re quietly listening to his heartbeat while he’s caressing your back— you want to stay like this. 
he brushes his fingers through your hair, planting soft kisses on your head every few seconds. it’s rare for you two to be this quiet. with sunghoon, every minute spent on bed leads to something else, most of the time. but this time it’s silent, it’s risky, he’s in your room and as much as he jokes about it, the idea of being caught by your parents isn’t something either of you fancy.
“i think i should get up and leave before your—” it lands upon you to worry about keeping everything a secret, today it’s his job to make sure the secret is safe.
“it stings, doesn’t it?” you cut him off immediately, pinning him down as he tries to get up. he can see the concern in your eyes, worries trickling through your finger tips and seeping through his skin when you lace your fingers over his scratches. 
“i told you, they’re not that bad,” he shrugs, too careless, carefree. he doesn’t know why you worry yourself over something so minor. “they don’t even hurt,” 
“it hurts me to see you like this,” and his thoughts are put to halt when the words leave your mouth. 
it was half past one when sunghoon knocked at the glass doors of your balcony. you were getting ready for bed after movies, and he was avoiding your gaze as you were running your eyes over his state— messy, hurt, and so were you.  
‘did you get into another fight with heeseung?’ you had asked and he avoided, again, dodging all your questions and attempts to check on him. you let him in, and he goes straight to your bathroom. his gaze doesn’t meet your eyes, he avoids all the eye contact and conversation. he turns away to take off his shirt covered in dirt. it’s worse this time. ‘come here,’ 
you grabbed his arm to pull him towards you, but he refused to face you. he’s ashamed, like every time he is when you see him like this. the pretty face you’ve always been so fond of no longer fits the definition. you tried to make him look at you, but he grabbed your hands, kissing your palms and pulled you to bed. 
“is that a new way of telling me to not get into fights?” he asks, feigning a yawn, a faint chuckle following by. you’re still on top of him, pinning him down, and if he didn’t know any better, you would’ve ended up under him already. 
“is it working?”
“a bit,” he mumbles quietly and pulls you closer by your waist, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. he keeps planting tender kisses on your cheeks, and then down on your neck, as if telling you to let go of all the concerns that plague your mind. “you worry too much,”
“i know, i will continue to do that,” you pull back again, much to his disappointment. nothing could compare to the feeling of having you in his arms. “if not for your dad and for the sake of your reputation then at least for me, you need to stop,”
sunghoon knows.
if not for anything— it isn’t for anything else. not for his mother’s million dollars fashion brand, not for his sister’s business ventures, nor his father’s political career. it’s for you, every scratch, every nip and every cut, every drop of blood that had trickled down the corner of his lips when heeseung landed a punch on his face. how could he not? sunghoon can stand anything but people talking down on you as if they know you. it makes him fight for you and funnily enough, he’s happy to bleed to death for you.
“you always ruin the mood, bringing that old man up,” he’s deflecting— just as you had expected and you’re not backing down. one leg swinging to the other side, arms by his head. he’s down, caged, a position where he can’t avoid you. it’s about time you two had this conversation.
“i’m serious,” you’re trying your best to keep up the stern face, eyes locked into his. 
“i love it when you get all serious, angel,” he grins suggestively, arms around your waist again. he’s slipping them under your top, you slap it away and it only makes him laugh in amusement. “i suppose it is a bit too early for that,”
you don’t say anything, just looking at his pretty face. you stroke softly over the cut on his cheekbone and he flinches ever so slightly. it’s new, it stings, adorned by a bit of dried up blood just like the one on his lips. there’s one near his jaw from a while ago, it’s healing. each and every part an ugly reminder of how much trouble he gets in.
“you’re such a pretty face,” you whisper quietly and lean down to kiss him, trying to be so gentle to not hurt him even more. you take your sweet time, tracing your lips over those wounds, new or old, and then speaking with a voice impossibly loving. “even with these,”
“i love it when you call me that,” he takes your hand, kissing your palms. it’s not everyday that he’s spoiled like this.
and you pull your hand back, speaking with frown as if giving him a warning. “i won’t anymore if you get into another fight,”
“guess we’re making truce with heeseung,” he chuckles quietly, shaking his head, pretending to be annoyed. he finally pulls you down next to him and wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “things i do for my girl,”
you let out a muffled laughter while your face is buried in his chest before looking up at him with love pouring out of your eyes. “for me?”
“for you,” you hand rests on his cheeks as he leans down for a kiss, and his hands wrap over them gently, holding them in place. when you kiss him so deeply yet delicately, like it’s a stellar reunion, he pulls away just for a brief second, whispering against your lips. “everything,”
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lovingmattysposts · 2 days
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Quiet 11
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P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10
pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo
summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk
warnings: mentions of being skinny/not eating, mentions of a drunk parent, fighting
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The worst part about hanging out with Matt was when I had to go home. I hated going home. Even with Matt being mad at me, it distracted me from what was going on at home. It gave me something else to worry about.
I shouldn't have to worry about it. I shouldn't have to worry about food on the table or if my dad would be living and breathing when I walked through the door. Everyday. And I was too scared to say anything.
I bent down and picked up Sparkle who was waiting at the front door for me like she always does. I keep her outside when I leave so my dad wouldn't know i'm now homing a cat. I tugged her to my chest as I pushed the door open. Immediately relief washing over me from her comfort.
My dad was already walking towards me.
" 'M going out" He mumbled as he placed his hand against the door frame. I just looked up at him. His eyes wobbled, like he was looking through me. My heart clenched and I held Sparkle closer.
"Fuck is that a cat?" He mumbled looking down at me. I looked down at the cat before placing her on the ground. "Yeah, it was outside and--"
"I don't want a fucking cat in my house Y/n. Get rid of it" He snapped down at me as he reached for the door handle. I blinked at him and my mouth spoke before my mind could catch up.
"Where are you going? It's late, dad" I mumbled. He turned and looked back at me as he opened the door. "I'm going out" He didn't clarify. I swallowed and looked down at Sparkle who looked up at me.
"Are you safe to go out? I-I don't think--"
"There's a bar just down the street i'll be f-fine" He grumbled. I swallowed and looked down at my feet.
"Is the job search going anywhere? I can help you look---"
"I don't need you to question me. I'm your father, you do not question me" He snapped making me close my eyes and step back. Silence came between us. I nodded and wrapped my arm around myself as I felt Sparkle rub against my leg.
I don’t know why I thought I should ask. My mouth always getting me into trouble.
"Did you pick up groceries?" I whispered. He sighed and looked down at Sparkle.
"I want that cat gone before I get back" He snapped looking down at the cat. I looked down at Sparkle. "Dad" I breathed feeling my heart clench. "I mean it Y/n" He stared down at me.
"Dad, I'm hungry" I whispered looking at him as my hands came down my arms. He blinked at me before taking in a breath.
"I'm going to the store tomorrow Y/n. There's something I need to take care of tonight I-I got people waiting on me" He shook his head. I nodded and looked down.
"Okay" I breathed thinking it was best not to push it, at least not right now. He sighed before he slammed the door. I looked down at Sparkle who looked up at me. I leaned against the cabnits before running my hand down her back.
"I'm sorry Sparkle. I can't keep you" I whispered at her. She just looked up at me. I sighed before laying my head against my knees.
When everything starts to feel okay again. There's another reminder waiting that it isn't, okay.
I stood up before picking up Sparkle and setting her back outside. She tilted her head in confusion. I stared down at the small kitten and her head went towards the bowl of water I’d left out for her.
It was empty.
I sighed before I swallowed and looked off towards the street.
-
I pushed the door open before Nick looked up at me. I smiled and set down his phone.
"Hey, Y/n" He sat up and smiled at me. The smile already making my heart pound in the worst way possible. I swallowed as I walked up and leaned against the counter to look at him.
"Come to steal something again?" He chuckled. I felt my stomach twist, and I didn't smile as I looked at him. His smiled altered from my lack of reaction as he stared back at me.
I felt horrible.
"You did?" He mumbled quieter. I sighed and hung my head and I tugged on my sweatshirt uncomfortably.
"Listen--I just need some cat food okay? I don't have any and I can't afford it. There’s this cat she’s—starving." I whispered as I looked down avoiding his eyes.
Silence came between and it let the feeling sink in of how horrible and humiliating this genuinely felt.
Nick stared at me blankly for a second before letting out a breath. I wanted to cry. To burst out into tears pathtically. But I couldn't get the look Sparkle gave me as I shut the door. She was starving. She was probably as hungry as I was.
No living thing deserved to be hungry.
"You'll steal food for a cat but not yourself?" He sighed. I didn't respond as I tucked my hands into my sweatshirt. I swallowed as he waited for an answer.
"I wouldn't do this if I wasn't desperate" I whispered as tears lined my eyes. Nick blinked at me and let out a breath. He sat up from the counter he was sitting behind and turned away.
"I'm going on break for about 10 minutes" He annoucned to me. Only then, did I look up at him. He glanced back at me.
"Please--" I spoke. He paused. "--don't tell Matt about this" I shook my head. The thought of the look on his face was enough to make me want to puke. Nick pursed his lips as he studied me. He looked down before speaking again.
"In the back--" He looked up. "There are some pre-made meals" He motioned to the back wall. "I won't say anything about this if you take something for yourself too" He breathed, his eyes scanning over my body. I felt the need to cover up.
I just nodded and then he gave me once last look before walking into the back of the store. I let out a breath as I walked down the aisles feeling sick to my stomach.
I found the cat food before grabbing as many cans as I could before shoving them into the pockets of my sweatshirt. I shoved in almost a weeks worth before I walked down where Nick pointed.
My eyes scanned the shelves before I picked up the first meal that seemed appetizing and put it under my sweatshirt, holding it to my body.
I felt my heart beat out of my chest as I walked towards the front doors of the stores. I hated doing this. I absolutely hated it.
It made me feel dirty. Like the scum of the earth. Like a dirty thief. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. I guess that’s what I was.
The doors were in sight before someone walked through making me pause.
He looked up at me his eyebrows furrowing.
"Y/n?"
I froze my eyes widening. Chris walked towards me and I stood frozen. "What are you doing here?" He asked slightly glaring at me. I looked down avoiding his eyes.
"Just....walking around. I don't know" Lame excuse, but I was nervous. I didn’t know what else to say. He stared at me and I glanced up at him.
"What are you doing?" I fired back. He looked off towards the counter.
"I visit Nick sometimes when I'm bored" He pointed off to where Nick is normally perched. I looked off and nodded. He narrowed his eyes at me. "Didn't you just leave my house?" He asked staring down at me.
"Yeah I just---came to look around" I mumbled shifting on my feet. He walked up to me and I looked up at him.
"You're not a good liar" He said staring down at me. My face lost color. "Matt sees it too, he just doesn't say anything about it--but he can see it" He stated. “—When you lie” He spoke. I looked off and bit down on my lip.
"You know Chris" I whispered. "You really can't make me feel more like shit, than I already make myself feel.” I said staring up at him. His eyes softened and I shook my head before pushing away from him and walking out the doors of the store.
-
I leaned down and opened up a can before placing it in front of Sparkle. Her eyes wideneded and she immediatly went to devour it. I sighed as I leaned against my door and put my hand behind her ears. I closed my eyes as I felt tears start to run down my cheeks.
-
I let out a small half-laugh as I pushed the notebook back towards Matt. He smiled and added a small little hat to the figure I attempted to draw. It was suppose to be a cow but it came out looking more like a donkey.
I smiled over at him as he detailed in the hat, making my cow-donkey looking like shit. He pushed the notebook back over to me.
I sighed and I tapped my pencil against the page.
"Hey"
I looked up as Jake sat down next to me. I felt Matt stiffen beside me. I looked over as Nadia and Lacey sat down across from us. I looked up at Matt who seemed to have gone frozen, staring at them.
I closed my eyes mentally preparing for the damage.
"H-Hey what are you doing?" I whispered since we were in the library. He smiled and he wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me into him.
"What? I can't come say hi to you?"
And he kissed me.
Right in front of Matt. I froze as he pulled back. I didn't dare to look over at Matt's reaction. I let out a breath and looked down at the table trying to not show how much that shook me.
"No you can" I shook my head staring down at the notebook, not wanting to dissmiss him. Nadia leaned forward.
"You picked out what you're wearing on Friday?" She asked smiling at me. I subconsciously glanced over at Matt who watched me uncomfortably.
"N-No not yet" I shook my head staring down at the page as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. I felt Matt's gaze and I had a feeling he was going to bolt any second.
"What? You probably have a million things to wear" She said raising her eyesbrows.
"Yeah she's stick thin, she can probably wear anything" Lacey mumbled. I looked up at her and felt it like a shot to the gut. Matt shifted next to me and he fixed his eyes on Lacey.
"I just haven't looked yet" I mumbled as I picked up my pencil.
"Did you ask....him?" Jake leaned forward and looked at Matt. Matt turned to him and I looked between them. "No--I" I breathed. Lacey leaned forward.
"Friday. Jake's house. Party. You in quiet boy or not?" Lacey tilted her head at him. I realized how rude the words sounded coming from her lips. Quiet boy. A diss. To his face.
Matt opened his mouth before closing it and then just shrugged.
"He'll--think about it" I placed my hand on his shoulder. Lacey glanced over to me. "Do you always speak for him?" She asked raising her eyebrows. Matt looked down, defeat filing his face.
"No"
"Yeah whatever, kid doesn't talk. Listen, come to my car after the game tonight okay?" Jake shifted his attention to me as he stood up. I looked up at him.
"I--um okay" I breathed nodding. He smiled before leaning down and pressing his lips to my cheek and walking off, Nadia and Lacey following him.
"Please, text me what you're wearing" Nadia breathed looking down at me. I nodded up at her before she walked off with them.
I let go of a breath I was holding and I looked down at the page, but my pencil was frozen against the page.
Matt looked down at me. I closed my eyes.
"I'm sorry.....that they were rude" I swallowed not looking up at him, feeling as if those comments were my fault.
I knew it probably didn't feel good to be pointed out as being the kid who didn't speak more than once in a singular conversation. He smacked his lips and took in a breath.
He picked up his pen and wrote in my line of vision.
I stared at the page.
I didn't like the fact they commented on your weight.
I looked up at him and he stared at me, like he wasn't joking. I gave a sad smile and looked down at the words. Out of everything thrown at him in that conversation, Lacey's comment on my weight it was what stuck with him.
I shook my head as I smiled. I leaned over and leaned my head against his shoulder as I reached over and started to draw a bunny coming over the hat that was on the donkey-cow. He smiled as he watched me.
-
I didn't push Matt on the hockey game tonight after he said no. He didn't seem in the mood to be pushed today. It was a quick no and discomfort filled his face. That was that.
So I decided to go alone. Soon after I got to the rink, I realized why.
We were playing Sommervile. I froze when I saw Chris and Nick with "Sturniolo" plastered across their backs. Matt probably didn't want to watch his old team skate without him. He didn't want to be recongized.
I felt my stomach tug from the thought of Matt being home alone right now. I looked off towards the ice before seeing Jake. He smiled before skating to the side of the ice. I smiled and walked up to him.
"You made it" He smiled. I nodded and smiled. I looked behind him seeing Chris looking over at me, speaking with Nick, causing Nick to also look in my direction. I swallowed and directed my attention back to Jake.
"I hope you win" I smiled leaning on my arm. He chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, well that's the goal" He smiled.
"Hey, I'm sorry if I offended you today with the comment about Mark--"
"Matt" I stared. He blinked. "Fuck--right. I'm sorry. I knew it didn't sit right with you. I shouldn't have said it" He shook his head. I sighed and nodded.
"It's okay, just....don't pry with him" I mumbled. He nodded and gripped his stick. “Okay” he breathed. And that was that.
He leaned forward before pressing his lips to mine. My eyes went wide. Still getting used to it.
"Come over after the game" He mumbled an inch from my face. I smiled and looked down.
"I'll think about it" I smiled.
"Andrews!"
He turned. "Fuck, I gotta go--" He pointed behind him. I nodded and waved him off before he skated off towards the rest of his team. I wrapped my arms over myself as I made my way to the bleachers so I could watch.
I sighed as I sat down and they started to skate. I watched as they fought for the puck. Over and over, slamming each other into the ice. I forced back a yawn. I wouldn't have come if I hadn't promised Jake.
I still think hockey is quite boring. I glanced over to the empty seat next to me. It was more fun when Matt came with me. I didn’t like sitting alone.
I watched as Nick and Chris skated. They were good. It made me wonder if Matt was as good as they are, if not better. I smiled to myself, but it fell when I realized why he stopped playing. I sighed and looked back up at the game.
I saw as Chris glanced up to me. I stared back at him. He held my gaze for a second before he looked back towards the game. I didn't have a good feeling in my stomach. I watched him as he started to skate.
Jake pushed one of the Sommervile players to take the puck. One second he was skating, the next he was slammed so harshly onto the ground--the entire bleachers full of people gasped.
The whistle blew.
I stood from the hit. It was harsh. Jake was against the ice, unable to get up. I pressed my hand to my chest as I watched him, my heart beating out of my chest. Nick reached over and pulled Chris's shoulder. Only then did I realized that Chris took that blow to Jake.
And it was intentional.
The ref’s shoved Chris back, yelling at him something I couldn't understand. Chris looked back up at me and I just looked at him, my mouth parted in shock. He turned back before he skated off the ice completely, ignoring the ref and his coach just to take the penalty.
I looked at Jake who was already receiving medical attention. He groaned against the ground. I clenched my jaw as I watched the door Chris had just walked through. I took in a breath as I rushed off the bleachers.
-
"Chris!"
"What?" He snapped turning around with his bag over his shoulder as he walked through the parking lot. I glared at him shaking my head as I approached him.
"What the fuck was that?" I screamed at him. He clenched his jaw as he looked away. I stopped in front of him. "You could have killed him!" I screamed. Chris looked down at me, he stepped forward making me stumbled back.
"He's fucking fine Y/n. I could have done alot more damage" He spoke harshly. I took in a breath. "I’m so sick and tired of you always giving me such--" I started as I grew more and more angry.
"Do you know Nick lost his job because of you?"
I froze as I looked up at Chris. He looked anything but sorry. I opened my mouth and shook my head.
"What-"
"His boss noticed the inventory didn't match the money in the register and he watched the security tapes. He saw him let you steal and he fired him. He had to pay back what you stole" He spat down at me.
Guilt rose in my stomach and I looked down at my feet, swallowing I didn't know--"
"Of course you didn't know Y/n. You only ever think about yourself" He shook his head. I felt my heart clench at the words. I shook my head. "
That's—That’s not true Chris" I whispered as tears lined my eyes. He scoffed.
"At least I don't go around fucking assulting people for no reason!" I spat back, growing angry again. He rolled his eyes. "At least i'm not a fucking thief" He snapped back. I glared at him.
"Why? What possessed you to do that? What did Jake do to you?" I asked throwing my arms up, my ears basically fuming. I had enough of his sly remarks, his bad attitude, and his utter rudeness.
I was about to explode
"I did what Matt couldn't" He breathed looking down at me. I dropped my arms and blinked at him. He stared down at me with a hard glare. I opened my mouth and shook my head.
"What are you talking about?" I breathed shaking my head. He let out a breath and licked his lips.
"Do you know what he said to me when he came home the other day?" Chris spoke harshly. I just watched him as he spoke.
"He said, Maybe If I was like him--" He pointed towards the gym we just exited. I knew he was talking about Jake. "Maybe if I was like him she would--"
"Chris"
We both turned. Nick stomped towards us. I felt the guilt rise in me again as he looked at me. He looked back at Chris.
"What the fuck man? You costed us the game" He shook his head. Chris looked down in silence.
"Nick" I breathed. He looked over at me. I shook my head. "Nick, I'm so sorry" I whispered. Nick looked over at Chris and then looked back at me.
"It's fine, Y/n. It's not that big of a deal" He mumbled as he walked up to Chris.
"No it actually is, try our only source of income" Chris glared down at me. Nick pushed him.
"You can get a job you hateful fuck" Nick snapped at his brother, his aggression clearly built up from the loss of the game.
"Our parent’s money is enough, I had the job for extra cash. It's fine" Nick shook his head. I felt my stomach twist. I stepped forward.
"I'll pay you back, I swear" I swallowed shaking my head. Nick sighed and closed his eyes. "I said it was fine Y/n. Just leave it alone” He mumbled as he grabbed Chris's arm and drug him towards the car.
Neither of them looked back at me as I stood there in the parking lot, alone.
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yandere-daydreams · 3 days
Text
file #4: the body mod fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!wriothesley x reader (genshin).
length: 3.1k.
warnings: non/con touching + groping, nonconsensual piecing, dubiously consensual tattoos, permanent body modification, intimidation, needles, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.
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“Just one?”
The question had been hushed, meek, directed more towards your lap than the man sitting across from you. The warden – Wriothesley, you chided yourself, biting the inside of your cheek and attempting to remember what he’d asked you to call him, Wriothesley – broke into a wry smile, but nodded, leaning back in his armchair. “Just one,” he reassured. “And you’ll taken care of until your release date.”
You didn’t respond, but he must’ve seen the way you paled at the suggestion. “Having second thoughts?”
“No, it’s just—” You grit your teeth. Your eyes flitted up momentarily, but fell back to your legs just as quickly. “I… I’ve never really liked needles, I guess.”
You could see his eyes light up, his grin broadening as he tried to stifle his laughter. You scowled, but couldn’t blame him. He was used to dealing with hardened criminals, the scum of Teyvat, thieves and spies and murderers, and here you were – on the verge of fainting because he asked you to get a tattoo. “I promise, you don’t have anything to worry about.” At least he was trying to sound comforting, even if it was clearly a half-hearted effort. “I’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”
And he had, in a way.
You just wished he would’ve mentioned that those hands would be his own.
Calloused fingertips dug into your bicep as a scarred palm pressed into your skin, keeping one of your arms loosely secured against the mattress of the cot while the other was pinned between the bedframe and his chest (the placement unintentional, or so you hoped). You’d been shaking when he brought out that terrible machine – a vial of dark ink trapped inside of a cage of copper and steel; a single, silver needle protruding out of one end and a leather grip wrapped around the other – but it’d only taken an hour for fear to fade into boredom, another for boredom to drag on into a rotting, discolored sort of exhaustion. For as much as you’d been dreading it, there was more pressure than pain. It was repetitive, if anything – a monotonous pierce, stab, pierce, stab that you could only try your best not to focus on. You could already feel an ache settling below the skin of your shoulder, already knew that you wouldn’t be able to lift your arm for days, but you tried not to—
His needle stabbed into the thin skin over your shoulder blade, and you couldn’t stop yourself – letting out a low hiss as you flinched into the cot’s thin mattress. You expected Wriothesley to laugh, to drag a damp cloth over the affected area and mutter something like ‘bear with me’ or ‘my bad, love, my bad’ like he had a dozen times before, but instead, there was a muffled click as he switched off his awful machine, a dull clatter as he dropped it onto a bedside table already crowded with bottles of disinfectant and the nurse’s bizarre tools. “We’ll stop here. It’ll take another session, but I think you’ve been through enough for one day. For a virgin, especially.”
You were only half-listening; the phantom of his machine still buzzing in your ears. “Are you sure?” You asked, trying to hide how desperate you were not to spend another night in the empty infirmary with a man you barely knew. “It’s not that bad, I can go for another—”
“I’m sure. Sit up, I’ll let you have a look.”
You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest. You could see how Wriothesley had gotten into such an authoritative position. The way he spoke, his constant undertone of stern stability – it was hard to so much as imagine talking back to him, let alone breaking one of the rules that’d been meticulously and painstakingly drilled into you when you’d arrived at the Fortress of Meropide a little under a week ago. Still, you’d been terrified – too scared to so much as speak to another prisoner for the first two days. You weren’t dangerous. You couldn’t hold your own in a fight, or protect yourself if someone else, someone stronger decided they had a problem with you. You could barely even call yourself a criminal, but apparently, the Iudex hadn’t agreed. You’d been on your way to the fortress before he could finish reading out your sentence, and now, you were trapped in the darkest, deepest place in all of Fontaine, alone and so, so painfully vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for Wriothesley, you probably would’ve requested to forgo your imprisonment entirely and be sent straight to the gallows.
A hand on your shoulder, a softened lull to his voice. “You can sit up, can’t you? I’ll have to call Sigewinne, if you’re in that much pain.”
“Right, I— uh, sorry,” You stammered as you shook your head and pushed yourself up, careful to keep the thick, overly starched cot sheet pressed to your chest. The infirmary was empty, the door locked and sealed, and while Wriothesley hadn’t seemed to think much of ordering you to take off your shirt and lay face-down, you couldn’t bring yourself to brush off the stark, damp chill that came with any amount of exposure in the fortress so easily. You guessed that, after enough time, you’d get used to it. You guessed that, when you did, the thought of not being so cold so constantly wouldn’t make you feel so sick. “I…  I think I’m still getting used to this,” you went on, with a strained smile. “Still a little out of it, I guess.”
“That’s alright, love. We all take a few months to find a way to cope.” When you glanced over your shoulder, there was already a mirror in his hand – a compact, small enough to fit in his palm. You had to crane your neck to see it, but Wriothesley knew how to strike the right angle, and soon enough, the sprawling, spiraling pattern stretching from the lower curve of your shoulder blade to the ball of your shoulder came into view. It took you a moment to make out the pattern, but relief accompanied the delayed realization. Lumidouce bells, all blossoming and linked together by a single vine. He’d finished the linework, and there was a smattering of color in the bottom corner – only, oh, he’d gotten the shade wrong. Rather than deep violet, he’d used a light blue, more similar to ice than the water nearly everything in Fontaine stole its palette from. Judging by his expression, though, all beaming pride and low-brewing mirth, he hadn’t caught the mistake. “What do you think? Don’t keep me in suspense, now.”
“It’s… nice,” you said, the sentiment sincere despite your hesitance. And then, laughing, “I was—Well, it feels a little silly now, but I was terrified you’d leave me with, I don’t know, a sea monster or a giant wolf or something.”
“Maybe next time. Not a wolf, though - you don’t strike me as that vicious.” You bit your tongue, forcing yourself not to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time and opting to focus on the soreness starting to knot in your shoulder, instead. You swung your legs over the side of the cot, moving towards where you’d left your shirt draped over an unopened crate, but Wriothesley caught your wrist, tugging you gently back onto the thin mattress. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his playfulness suddenly more irritating than it had been, a few second ago. “I don’t think we’re finished, yet.”
Not for the first time, your smile wavered. “I… I thought we only agreed to one, sir.”
“Of course.” He squeezed your wrist teasingly. “One of each.”
Something heavy and spiked dropped into the pit of your stomach. This time, you couldn’t help the way your expression dropped. “Sir, that’s really not what I—”
“It’ll be worse the longer you put it off.” You weren’t dangerous. You weren’t a criminal. You weren’t strong, but Wriothesley was. Before you could so much as push yourself to your feet, his arm was around your waist and he was perched on the edge of the cot, one leg tucked underneath him to make more room for your body, soon pulled between his thighs. The back of your shoulder screamed where it pressed into his chest, but you managed to swallow the little, pitiful sound threatening to bubble past your lips and clung to your sheet – suddenly so much thinner than it’d seemed, seconds prior. If Wriothesley noticed your apparent panic, the distress of his prisoners was an inconvenience he was willing to endure. Only half-consciously, you tried to shove yourself away from him, but his muscle-bound arm was snaked around your waist before you could gain any distance, keeping you flush against his broad chest. He was so much bigger than you’d realized, when he was on the other side of that desk, when he was engraving something intrusive and permanent into the very fabric of your being. This had been a bad idea. Trusting anyone here had been a bad idea. You should never have—
Your elbow slammed into his diaphragm, and Wriothesley let out a slow grunt, his fingers burrowing into the plush of your side. “Easy now, love,” he half-muttered, half-breathed, bowing his head to speak into the side of your throat. “We had a deal, remember? Can you tell me what it was?”
“You—you said I wouldn’t get hurt if—” You forced yourself to stop, to swallow, to breathe. “But, I only agreed to get one tattoo, and you—”
“I said I’d take care of you. Get you a nice, cushy job with the fortress administrator, keep you out of any over-crowded bunks, make sure the other prisoners don’t cause you any trouble – that kind of thing. I’m really not supposed to play favorites, so even doing that much is going to take more than a little discretion on my part.”
“But, you offered to—”
“I said I’d take care of you, and I’m going to.” You could see him fishing something off of the bedside table with his free hand, but you forced yourself not to look, not to make the ever-growing pit in your stomach feel that much more hollow. “You’ve heard a few stories about what it’s like in the underworld, right? I try to keep all of you nice n’ safe, but a few are bound to fall through the cracks. Rehabilitation can only do so much and—well, I’m sure you know all about how bloodthirsty desperation can make someone.” There was a pause, an ebbing lull to the tenderness in his voice. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, sweetheart. Are you going to help me get a little practice in, while I do that?”
Practice. If he wanted practice, you were sure there were another hundred prisoners who’d willingly lay down and let him carve a hole through whatever he wanted to. Still, you did your best to calm yourself down, to stop thrashing, to shut your eyes and try to ignore the large, pulsing thing you could feel pressing into your ass. You didn’t nod, didn’t give him permission, but when his fist balled around the infirmary sheet and tugged it away from you, the only resistance you managed to scrape up was a slight frown and a wary glance in his direction. “You’re already in for a rough night,” he explained, as if that was any excuse. “Might as well get the hardest one out of the way first, right?”
You refused to let yourself linger on the implication that this wasn’t going to be the last, too.
You clenched your eyes shut as his large hand pawed at the right side of your chest, kneading into the softened flesh with an almost delicate sort of care. “It’s easier after a little stimulation,” he murmured, as if that meant he had to spend so long circling your nipple with a calloused thumb, occasionally swiping over the sensitive bud in a way that made your thighs twitch and your face burn. When your nipple was stiff and pebbled, he pulled away, but it was a momentary reprieve – torn away from you with a splash of freezing disinfectant. It dripped down your chest and filled the stagnant air with a thick, chemical haze as Wriothesley caught your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching tightly. You felt the long, curved tip of his piercing needle against your skin, and braced yourself for the pain. Wriothesley wasn’t kind enough not to drag it out, though. “Wanna count me down?”
You shook your head, pushing yourself that much closer to his chest, desperate for any kind of stability. You’d hoped that Wriothesley would take your clear obstinance as a sign not to drag it out any longer, but he seemed to savor it – the agony of the wait, the way the dread seemed to multiply tenfold every time you forced yourself to suck in a ragged inhale. Seconds seemed to pass like frozen honey, only just beginning to drip. You’d started to think he wouldn’t do it, that he’d just laugh and admit this was all part of some bizarre, invasive hazing ritual when Wriothesley let out an airy chuckle and plunged his needle into you.
Oh, archons.
You really thought the tattoo would’ve been worse.
It was faster, at least; a bright shock of pain followed immediately by a steady, throbbing sort of ache that seemed to drown out every other sensation and fill your mind with a buzzing, numbing static. You didn’t realize your eyes had shot open on reflex until tears blurred your vision, until you glanced down just in time to watch as he dragged the needle through and replaced it with a small, silver stud – a barbell, as wrong as it felt to think of yourself having something so vulgar attached to you. You were crying unabashedly by the time he finished, pain and humiliation dripping down your cheeks in hot, wet streams, but Wriothesley’s shallow pool of sympathy must’ve run dry. “Ah, don’t make that face, sweetheart – we’re only halfway done.” You felt him panting into the crook of your neck as his hand found the other side of your chest. The last threads of his veil of composure frayed and broke apart as he groped unabashedly at your chest, toying with your nipple as your sobs echoed off of the clinic walls. You felt something thick and hot and wet crash against your collarbone and drip down the curve of your chest, and forced yourself to believe it was only disinfectant. That there was nothing it could’ve been except disinfectant.
Wriothesley’s hips rocked against your ass, the rigid outline of his cock pressing into you, incinerating any lingering delusions you might’ve had of helpful prison wardens exchanging one favor for another. Five fingers bit into the plush of your chest as he brought his needle to your unmutilated nipple, his hand surprisingly steady despite the airy, drawling moans he was pouring into your throat. “P-please don’t,” you managed, fighting to speak above the pathetic cries and choking fear doing their best to strangle out your voice. “Please, I can’t—I don’t want to—”
But, Wriothesley wasn’t listening. It wasn’t a spark, this time, but a red-hot knife, stabbed deep into your chest and twisted as far as it could go. You heard Wriothesley let out a rough groan, felt something warm and damp against your ass, and then, you were gone.
~
You startled awake hours later; bolting upright as you heaved in jolting, uneven inhales. Immediately, pain knocked you out of your panicked daze – sharp and piercing, imbedded into the back of your shoulder and either side of your chest, strong enough to remind you to measure out your breathing and calm down before you blindly threw yourself back into a seething pit of violent criminals. It took you a second to realize that you weren’t on an undersized infirmary cot, anymore, and another to piece together where he’d taken you – a bedroom nearly triple the size of your bunk. The warden’s chambers, you figured, as you scanned over the limited decoration and piles of dust-coated paperwork stacked onto every possible surface. Wriothesley’s room.
Wriothesley’s bed, at that. A cold chill ran down your spine as you realized that he’d taken the time to strip you out of your ill-fitting coveralls and redress you in a shirt sizes too big to be one of yours – the bleached, threadbare material a stark contrast to the satin sheets draped over your legs. You started to push them away and move towards the edge of the mattress, but froze as a door on the far side of the room creaked open – Wriothesley slipping inside and letting the door shut behind him. He moved away from it quickly, but as it closed, you could’ve sworn you heard the muffled, deafening click of a lock sliding into place and cutting you off from the rest of the world – or, the rest of the underworld, rather. As if there was anyone out there who would bother to save you, even if they could try.
“There’s my sleeping beauty.” He grinned as he lowered himself on the side of the bed, positioning himself closer to you than he absolutely had to. He reached out, moving to cup your face, but quickly let his hand fall back to his side when you flinched away. His smile dimmed, but didn’t fall away. “Get a chance to see the improvements, yet?”
After a second of hesitation, you shook your head, and he nodded to your chest - the gesture more of an order than a suggestion. Reluctantly, you pinched your collar between two fingers and peeled away from your skin. Through the narrow sliver, you could see his handiwork: a pair of twin rings hanging from either nipple, connected by a thin, lax, silver chain – so light, you could barely feel it brushing your diaphragm as the air caught in your chest.
You dropped the collar before you could give in to the nausea beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t bear to look at Wriothesley, so you kept your eyes on the sheets, kneading at the fabric half-consciously as you struggled to find your voice. “That wasn’t what we agreed to,” you muttered, mostly under your breath. “Can I go back to my bunk, now?”
His smile took on an almost apologetic note. You tried again. “Am I... Am I going to be able to leave?”
This time, when he reached out, flinching away wasn’t enough to stop him – his hand catching your chin and drawing you that much closer to him. You tried to lurch away, but it was too late, his lips were already crashing into yours, his tongue already slipping past your teeth and raking over your own. While your eyes widened in shock, his went half-lidded, closing just a second too late. Abruptly, it occurred to you that you’d never really noticed the color of his eyes – a pale, faded blue. The color of the half-formed flowers currently stretching across your back.
Wriothesley’s hand slipped to the nape of your neck. You let your eyes fall shut, and did your best not to think at all.
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ellecdc · 2 days
Note
hi!!!!
id love to see a poly!marauders where the reader is muggle born or atlest muggle raised , reader and remus just bond over muggle stuff while the others sit there all confused asking wtf they’re talking about
like music, technology, maybe certain foods, certain slang and books the wizard world doesn’t have.
(ps i love ur blog and everything you write plz keep it up❤️)
hahaha awe so cute - here's a sweet little scene, and thanks for your request <33
poly!marauders x gn!reader who is muggle born
James was not too proud to admit he was rather upset.
And by upset, he meant jealous, terribly jealous. And desperate, so unbelievably desperate. And also sort of pissed off.
The cause of such upset, you might wonder?
Oh, only one of his own sodding boyfriends, of course.
You see, it had been his idea to start chatting with you in order to see where things could go - you know, romantically - between the four of you.
Sirius was eager - which would seem very out of character for the notoriously territorial and stand-offish Black who was wary of anyone interfering with their already established dynamic - but Sirius was equally as enamoured with you as James was from your shared classes and your few interactions around the castle.
Of course - as would be expected - it was Moony that the two of them had to persuade to consider you in earnest. 
“Come on, Moons. Don’t tell me you’re worried that you won’t be the smartest one in the relationship anymore.” Sirius had teased, earning him a glare from the werewolf. 
But of course, James (and Sirius) had been right, and Remus was practically immediately taken with you after James had officially introduced you to his boyfriends at a Gryffindor party. 
It was perhaps very helpful that you happened to be muggle born seeing as Remus had a muggle parent himself, so he was able to bond with you over various muggle things.
And James thought that was wonderful! Truly!
Really.
He honestly did.
But...well, did you guys have to talk about it all of the time!?
And it’s not that James didn’t like you talking about muggle things, or that he didn’t like muggle things in general.
What he didn’t like was that he couldn’t participate in the conversation at all.
And James is sorry, but what in the buggering fuck was a ‘vee sea are’?
James tuned back into the conversation when he began recognizing some of the words you and Remus were saying, though Sirius looked no less confused than he had previously.
“My favourite is probably The Sound of Music.” You admitted somewhat bashfully, features painted with a shy smile as you looked at Remus through your eyelashes.
James didn’t know what you were so shy about, especially considering Remus was beaming at you in response. “Me too!” He agreed readily.
“I love the sound of music!” James chimed in readily, earning him a surprise look from you, a curious look from Remus, and a bemused look from Sirius. 
“Do you really?” You asked sweetly, offering him a hopeful smile.
“I didn’t know you’d ever heard of it.” Remus added quietly.
James scoffed. “Oh, come off it Moons. Of course I love the sound of music! It’s arguably one of my favourite sounds ever!” 
“Awe.” You said sympathetically as Remus barked a laugh.
James looked at the two of you in confusion before he turned to Sirius in hopes for an answer. 
“I don’t know how Prongsie, seeing as they never really asked a question.” Sirius started, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeezing gently, “But I think you got the answer wrong.”
James harrumphed and fell back into his chair, feeling thoroughly dejected. 
“I’m sorry Jamie.” You apologized, looking particularly distraught at having caused James any grief. “We can talk about something else, if you’d like.”
James waved you off quickly. “No, no. I’m sorry, sweets. It doesn’t matter to me what you talk about, as long as I get to continue hearing the sound of your lovely voice, arguably my second favourite sound ever.” 
James may not know what sounds of music you had been talking about, but he was proud that he did know how to make you blush something fierce with nothing but a few simple words. 
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monzabee · 1 day
Text
partition - lh44 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where you and Lewis are stuck in traffic in Paris, and decide to make the most of the situation.
Pairing: lewis hamilton x reader 
Word Count: 4.0k
Warnings: smut!! sex in a car, unprotected sex (because when have i written something with condoms lol), pwp, cringey ass nickname (blame beyoncé), manhandling, took me a long time to write it so it doesn’t make sense most part, minors dni!!
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this was a passion project for me and you have no idea how happy i am with the way it turned out. There’s only one slight issue and it is that i wanted lewis to call the reader something other than peaches, but it is in the song, therefore please if you don’t like it blame the mother, aka beyoncé. Also, i was very unsure of whether i wanted to drag it out, or leave it as it is, so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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It took you forty five minutes to get ready – Lewis knows this because he’s been keeping time on his phone since the moment you’ve went into the bedroom side of your hotel room to get ready for the party he’s taking you to. You’ve always like to joke that he takes longer getting ready whenever the two of you have to go somewhere, but now that he is staring the timer on his phone, maybe he should use it as an evidence that you’re, in fact, wrong the next time you tease him about it. Not that he actually would do that, he is a gentleman, after all.
He’s just about to call out to you to hurry up when you beat him to it, “Baby, I need help, please!”
The nickname manages to bring the smallest of smiles to his face as he, without shouting anything back in response, gets up from his place on the couch and makes his way towards the bedroom. And that’s when his eyes land on you, in front of the full-sized mirror struggling  to zip up your dress. In just a few more steps he’s right behind you, his fingers itching to dance against the smooth skin of your back. “I thought you were going to wear the suit you brought, Peaches,” his voice comes off muffled as he presses a few kisses to the expose skin on your shoulder.
“I forgot to bring the shirt that goes with it,” your voice comes off shaky as you feel his lips drag on your skin, and you can hear his soft chuckle. Craning your neck to give him a small smile, you join in his laughter, “Zip me?” With a yielding kiss, Lewis wordlessly grabs the small zipper between his fingers, and when the moves the zipper, it makes you shriek out another laugh, “Up, Lewis, zip me up please!”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, pulling the zipper upward with a swift motion. The dress seamlessly hugs your figure, and he makes a show of checking you out from the mirror in front of you before meeting your eyes. “There you go, all zipped up,” Lewis announces triumphantly, ignoring your disapproving headshake, giving you a gentle pat on the back. You turn around, facing him with a grateful smile, and he can't resist leaning in for a sweet kiss. The connection between your lips is brief but warm.
“You like my dress?” You ask him and his enthusiastic nod makes your smile widen in satisfaction, “You don’t think it’s too short?”
Instead of answering your question with words, instead Lewis tsks, letting his dissatisfaction with your question known. He gently takes one of your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours and prompts you to spin around to give him a better look of your dress. He wraps his arms around your middle, his hand still firmly intertwined with yours, and presses a kiss on your shoulder right where the strap of your dress meets your skin. “Wear any dress you want, Peaches, Miles and I can handle anyone who gives you trouble for it.”
Chucking at his protective, yet playful, response, you pat his arm around your middle with your free hand, “Speaking of the devil, we should probably get going if we don’t want him to kill us both for being late.” Lewis makes a sound of contest, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulls you closer to himself. “Lu,” you let out a faux-exasperated sigh, “there is being late, and fashionably late, and I’m afraid we are way past the latter.
“Oh, darling,” you hear his breathy voice whisper against your skin as he places a couple of open mouthed kisses onto your exposed skin, “maybe we should stay back, hm? I can show you just how much I like your dress.” With one of his hands splayed on your stomach and his lips greeting your skin ever so often, you gasp when his lips find that one sweet spot he knows that makes your knees week. “Imagine how much fun we can have on our own, here, in our room.”
Throwing your head back to rest on his chest, a breathy chuckle falls from your lips, but you give him a stern look. “As much as I would love to stay back with you, we promised all of our friends we’ll be there.” As you rise up to your toes to give him a soft peck on the lips, you manage to break free from his arms, leaving him with a perpetual pout on his face. “When we get back, Mister Hamilton, you can do whatever you want to me.”
With your offer, the look on his face changes from a pout to a smirk. “Is that a promise, Peaches?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, darling,” you emphasise the word with an exaggerated version of his accent. “It’s a fact,” you return his look with a small smirk on your own as you add, “sir.”
Needless to say, the walk down to the lobby to get into your car is full of tension between the two of you. It’s not like Lewis can’t hold himself back, because he can. He has proven under many circumstances that he can withhold sex from you if he decides to do that. The most recent incident was when he caught you lurking around the Red Bull garage during the last race you’ve attended, which ended with you quite literally having to beg him to fuck you after a week of Lewis not even touching you. The walk down to the lobby is filled with stolen touches and knowing glances, with him trying to get you to kiss him every minute, not caring whether the people around you can hear him or not.
You give him a sideway look when the receptionist tells you that your limo for the night is waiting for you. “A limo?” You raise an eyebrow, looking at him for response.
He simply shrugs a shoulder, leaning down to mumble his response into your ear, “Miles was in charge of the car,” with his fingers giving your waist a firm squeeze, he manages to earn a silent shriek from you, “I’m sure we could do with the extra space, darling.”
“Behave, Lu.” You chastise him, but the corner of your mouth upturns nonetheless and you let Lewis guide you towards the car waiting for you.
Because he is the perfect gentleman he opens your door and helps you into the limo, pressing a lingering kiss on your hand before joining you. The inside of the limo is darker than you expected, but the city lights of Paris do a good enough job of illuminating the car. The condensation on the limo’s windows has your attention and Lewis watches and you trailing your finger along the glass, tracing the line a raindrop left behind. He contemplates, for a second, whether being jealous over a raindrop for commanding your attention could be considered weird or not, but he decides that he doesn’t really care.
He places a hand on your thigh, his touch is both reassuring and possessive, but when you turn your head towards him to look at him, the way he smiles at you and his thumb caresses your knee is incredibly sweet. He is a duality in himself, Lewis is. And you enjoy the way city lights illuminate his face, his smile soft as he leans over the middle of the seat to give you a sweet peck on your lips.
“What was that for?” you ask him, giggling as you place your hand over his on your thigh. He doesn’t answer, only shrugs his shoulders and grins as he pulls away from you, instantly making you seek him out again. You’re about to comment on his suddenly playful mood, when you realise the car is slowly coming to a stop, and you let out a breath of frustration when the driver informs you that you’ve hit traffic. And traffic in Paris on a Friday night? It’s safe to say that both of you know that you are not going anywhere fast.
The overall wait is not that bad, you think. Even though the traffic is crawling at a snail’s pace, you’re more than happy to be in the car where you can be with Lewis without the overwhelming sound of EDM music and sweaty bodies pushing you around in a crowded club. The same, however, cannot be said about your boyfriend.
As time passes and you’re, still, stuck in traffic, you can see Lewis getting more and more frustrated with the situation. You try not to comment on how annoyed he looks and let him have his silent moment of irritation. You gently squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile. “It's alright, Lewis. We'll get there eventually.”
He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. It's just... I hate being late.” He lets out another frustrated sigh as he gently pats the empty seat between the two of you. “Can you just come closer, please?”
“Why?” you ask, eyes narrowed down in suspicion as he somehow manages to pull you closer to himself, not that you would try to get out of the situation otherwise – with the amount of times you’ve found yourself suddenly sitting in Lewis’ lap, it’s almost as if you can’t get away from him when he’s next to you. “We can’t do anything,” you whisper in warning when you catch him giving you literal bedroom eyes.
Smirking at the anxious tone of your voice, he lets his hand wander down to your hip as he quickly manoeuvres you into his lap, despite all your warnings, and calls out to the driver loud enough for him to hear his voice, “Hey mate, can you pull up the partition, please?” You hear the sound of the partition going up as Lewis fiddles with the couple of the buttons on the door handle, and soon after you hear the faint sound of music playing in the car. He meets your eyes when you give him a funny look, silently asking him what he’s up to, but he responds with a faint smile as he rests his hand on your lower back.
Rolling your eyes at the antics of the driver sitting, literally, under you, you turn your attention back to the scenery outside the window. Going back to tracing the raindrops falling onto the glass window, you choose to focus on the outside view as best as you can, given the current position you’re in. Although you’ve warned him against it, Lewis’ hand on the lower of your back drawing circles into your skin gives you other ideas you would otherwise choose to ignore in a public setting.
“What are you up to, Lewis?” you ask, lips twitching in a need to smile as you do your best to supress it.  
He grins, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark as he gives you an innocent shrug of his shoulder. “Just making the most of the situation, darling.”
Letting out a resigning sigh, you try to focus back on the rain outside, but with Lewis’ hand getting bolder on your lower back and the fact that you find yourself shuffling in your seat with every subtle movement of the car makes it almost impossible to focus on anything but him. Deciding to find out just how much you can get away with, you  tilt your head back slightly, your lips hovering near his ear. “Are you trying to start a scandal, Mr. Hamilton?”
He chuckles, the vibrations from his laughter sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “I told you we'd make the most of it, didn't I?” Hid hand continues its teasing dance, eventually dipping lower and even under your dress, and you have to fight the urge to let out a moan at the feeling of his skin on yours. “We can make it into a challenge,” he offers, his voice low as he suggestively whispers on your skin, “see just how scandalous we can be in the back of a limo.”
“What if someone sees?” You mumble, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from smiling.
His lips graze the curve of your neck, sending another shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked being watched, Peaches.” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk and a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your thigh, making you shuffle closer to him as a result. “Is that a yes?” Your eyes glance over at the closed up partition, but you nod your head nevertheless, though that doesn’t necessarily satisfy the man beside you. “Words, darling.”
“Yes, please.” The words escape your mouth and your hands slide down his body to work on the zipper of his dress pants. He gives you an amused look as you pull his zipper down, and kneel on the floor between his legs as elegantly as you can given the current situation you’re in. You hear him say your name in warning, giving you a way out, even though he was teasing you about your voyeuristic tendencies – and you might’ve considered taking it, if it weren’t for the fact that having him in your mouth is the only thing you can focus on at the moment. So, instead of pulling yourself up on Lewis’ lap and let him have his way with you, you carefully take his cock out, making sure to keep your eyes fixed on his during the whole process.
Giving him a few gentle strokes, you lean forward to lick the first few drops of precum that drips out of the head of his cock. The hiss he lets out when you take the head of his cock between your lips and suck on it gently makes you smirk, and so you swirl your tongue around the tip to get another reaction out of him. With the way his left hand grabs the door, you know Lewis is trying so hard not to just grab you by your hair and guide you the way he wants to. Humming at the taste of him, you widen your lips to fit more of him in your mouth and wrap both hands around his cock to pump the rest of his cock that you can’t fit into your mouth. As you slowly start bobbing your head up and down on his cock, the sounds leaving his mouth make you want to quicken up your pace, though you refrain from doing so. Maybe you shouldn’t be feeling so turned on by a mere sound of your boyfriend’s pleasure, but you can’t help yourself as you inadvertently rub your thigs together.
You continue the movements of your mouth, taking more of him every time you bob your head down, and Lewis gives in at some point, threading his hands through your hair and guiding you down until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. “Fuck, Peaches,” his low groan sends tingles down your spine, “just like that.” He looks so beautiful, you think, with his head thrown back and eyes closed.
Your hands work together with your mouth, picking up speed when you realise you have him at your mercy like this – it even makes you wetter, and you feel the wetness between your legs. Your eyes water as a sudden move from Lewis thrusting his hips causes your gag reflex to remind you both that it is there, causing you to pull back with a huff and send a glare his way. But he apologises by caressing the apple of your cheek and easing you back onto his cock.
Your power move, however, doesn’t last long, as Lewis lets out a groan, pulling your head off of him and leaning forward to lift you onto his lap. It’s not necessarily intentional when you grind yourself against his cock, causing both of you to moan simultaneously. Your head is thrown back when you feel his lips gliding on your feverish skin, and you even let out a breathy laugh when your head lulls to the side and you see the handprints he’s left in the mirror. “Lewis,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice low, suddenly very aware of the driver sitting in the front of the car, “if you don’t fuck me now, I think I might explode.”
“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, his hands on your hips lifting you up to position you over his cock. But you have other plans in mind. He lets out a breathy chuckle as you drag your lips over the skin of his neck, tracing his tattoos as you leave feverish kisses along the way. “What are you doing?” He asks, hands busying themselves to get you out of your underwear.
Nipping at his skin, which earns you Lewis squeezing your hip in warning in return, but you give him a pout as you pull back. “You didn’t let me finish you off, you impatient brute.”
“Brute?” He echoes, not able to stop himself from laughing at your choice of words, “Are you going to be a brat, hm?” He is more than happy to play along when you get into these moods, though he also knows how you can get when you don’t get something you want. So when you fix him with a glare of your own, he lets out a deep sigh as he wraps your hair around one of his hands and pull your head back to bare your neck to him. “And to think I thought you were going to be a good girl, I guess that’s my fault.”
The whine that leaves you would’ve been embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that he has you in the in the palm of his hand. “It’s not fair,” another whine leaves you, and you attempt rolling your hips against his erection resting against you in between your legs, but before you can find a rhythm, he halts your movements by tugging on your hair again. Curling your fingers around his shirt, you huff a breath of annoyance, whining out his name. “I’ll be good,” you promise, and let out a relieved sigh when he lets go of your hair to give you more freedom to move; you thank him with a few kisses.
“I know you will.” Lewis mumbles, hands finding your underwear again, but he quickly becomes frustrated when he realises the position you’re in will make it hard for him to get you out of them. So, taking an executive decision, he decides to rip them off your body. He gives you a look when you whine at the loss of your favourite pair, and he tries to salve the situation with a promise of buying you another pair. When you feel him between your legs, without any barriers this time, he is not surprised to see your immediate reaction. Though Lewis enjoys when you take control, he is impatient as he raises your hips, despite all your protest, and positions you over his cock.
You only have a few moments to adjust when he eventually lowers you onto his cock, and the initial stretch has you gasping out his name. He gives you a few minutes to adjust before slowly starting to move your hips, each move making you take him deeper until he’s buried to the hilt in you. One of your hands is pressed to the window for support out of reflex, trying to keep still as he uses the grip he has on your hips to move you in the rhythm he wants. It matches the mood pretty well, you think, everything is rushed and the sounds of the traffic and the music playing surrounding you becomes muffled as the pleasure takes over your body. You have to physically stop yourself from screaming every time he slams you down on his cock, faster and harder each time, relentless as he watches your face contort with pleasure.
Trying your best to match his thrusts, you grind your clit on every down stroke, making him somehow go even deeper, and making you moan even louder. There is an arrogant smirk on his face that you would love to wipe off, but with the way he’s making you feel, you decide to get him away with it. Dragging your hands down his shirt, you suddenly feel offended by the fact that he is covering his chest, and decide to get him out of it. This plan would’ve worked better if it weren’t for the fact that you end up ripping the buttons rather than being gentler with it. Not that Lewis complains about it, since this is most definitely not the first time something like this has happened. Your hands work on their own as you glide them through the smooth skin, slightly damp due to the warm temperature of the car, but every contact with his skin seems to make you roll your hips faster and harder.
He has to close one of his hands over your mouth since the moans that leave you get considerably higher in volume with every waking second. His lips curl up in a smile as you silently beg him with your eyes, your movements becoming sloppier with every down stroke. “I’m going to remove my hand and help you come, but you’re going to be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?” His voice carries a warning tone, and you frantically nod, assuring him that you’ll follow his instructions.
Keeping true to his word Lewis takes away his hand, making you take a deep breath as he grabs your hips. His hold on your hips is bruising, and you’re certain you’ll have marks to remember tonight for a while – especially with the way he uses his hold to move you on his cock in a rhythm he wants to. It doesn’t take you a long time to feel the overwhelming pleasure starting to build up in your lower stomach. “Please,” you whine, nails biting into his skin as your other hand is splayed over the window for support, “I’m so close.”
“Come on,” Lewis encourages you, hands working you over his cock even faster to get you where you need to be, “give it to me, I got you.” And with him looking at you like that, using your body however he wants to? It doesn’t take long for you to feel yourself coming around him, head thrown back and lips parted in a silent scream. With a last thrust, you feel him also spill himself into you, the act being greatly intimate despite the current predicament you’re both in at that moment.
A sound of surprise leaves the back of your throat when he begins to move under you, positioning you to stand on all fours as he positions himself behind you. “Wha– What are you doing?” You ask, craning your neck to look at him with hazy eyes.
“Oh, Peaches,” he coos, one of his hands caressing your skin down your thighs and up towards your hip again, “did you think we were done? We still have a long way back to the hotel.”
“But, the club?” You find yourself asking, cheeks burning when he uses his finger to push the wetness dripping out of you back in.
“We were never going to make it to that club anyway,” Lewis drags his lips up your spine until he reaches your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck before whispering, “what do you think? Should we make the most out of the way back?”
Your eyes slide towards the handprints left on the window, the Paris lights shining through the streaks both of your handprints have left behind. Maybe under different circumstances you would’ve insisted you go to the club to meet with your friends. But at that moment? You instinctively push your hips back onto his, and feel his smile on your skin as he runs his hands through your body, ready for another round simply because you two can’t keep away from each other.
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flynnriderishot · 2 days
Note
reader not feeling safe at night alone outside and calling Chris and js wants to talk to him for comfort and he gets all protective and wants to come pick her up but she says no and he keeps worrying and reader just thinks it's super cute and tells him and idk anymore
12 am - c.s
a/n: let’s thank spotify premium for getting me through this and the next few fics 😔🙏
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the air was oddly cold as you walked the quiet streets back to your apartment after working a little later that you usually do.
normally, you wouldn’t have worked an extra shift due to how irritating your job was, but the extra money meant a lot to you at the moment, especially because your car was currently in the shop.
the neighborhood you lived in wasn’t too dangerous, but the silence and random dark corners you’d find yourself looking at sent chills down your spine.
taking out your phone, your hands subconsciously pulled up a very familiar contact and called before you could stop yourself.
less than four rings later, a soft,
“hello?” filled your ears.
“chris.” you winced to yourself, a little annoyed by the enthusiasm that you had.
“hey, what’s going on?” you weren’t given the chance to respond before he cut in again, “you okay?”
“yeah, no, i’m fine.” you brushed off his concern, “i just didn’t feel comfortable walking home in silence.”
a beat went by.
“walking home? you’re taking late night walks at twelve am? what the hell are you talking about? you should’ve been home three hours ago.”
“it’s not a purposeful late night walk, when’s the last time i did that without you?” at your question, chris get his cheeks heat up. it was true. anytime you thought about going out late, chris was immediately by your side, “i stayed a few hours later to help you.”
“yn, it’s twelve am and you’re walking home. i get that your cars in the shop but if you were gonna stay late you should’ve told me. i would’ve made matt pick you up.”
your shoulders fell.
you knew he wasn’t mad at you, but more so upset that you risked putting yourself in danger for the sake of not forcing matt out of his comfortable position in bed.
“i didn’t wanna be a bother.”
you could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone before he scoffed, “you’re never a bother, you know that. even when i want you to be.”
knowing he’d be embarrassed if you pointed it out, you didn’t respond to the last part, instead trying to reassure him,
“i’m almost home—”
“too late. we’re picking you up.”
you heard the car door shut and the engine start.
“chris—”
“you know what? you have to pass our house to get to yours, right? you can just spend the night.”
“i promise you, i’m fine.”
“i don’t care.”
you could practically see the shrug he gave just as headlights of car filled your vision.
chris hung up as soon as he spotted you looking at the car with a look of faux annoyance.
he wasted no time in hopping out the vehicle and trudging over to you.
“i just wanted to hear your voice while i walked home.”
“you can’t call me at twelve in the morning while you’re walking home by yourself and expect me to just give you words of encouragement for your journey.”
knowing he was right, but refusing to admit it, your cross you arms over your chest, “it’s twelve thirty.”
“that’s not helping your case.” he snorted, watching a smile make its way onto your face.
he pressed a hand to the small of your back, the feeling sending a rush of warmth throughout your body, “get in the car. we can watch movies and cuddle.”
the giddy look on his face made you selfishly happy for calling him at twelve am.
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taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo @mxqdii
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Text
she's mean, and he loves her for it.
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summary: your peers wonder how the ever-so-annoying gojo satoru can stand being in a relationship with you pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader genre: angst, fluff warnings: none
Masterlist
"Did you guys know Gojo-sensei is dating-" Nobara looks around left and right before whispering your name in fear that you might be around.
"Ehhh?" Yuuji's eyebrows knit together. "No way. She's so scary and he's so...happy."
Nobara agrees, "She never smiles -- kinda looks like she has a permanent frown, too. She scares me."
"You think maybe she intimidated him to date her?"
Megumi watches as his two friends bicker about whether you and Satoru look good together, not realizing that you've heard everything they said. Megumi notices you've arrived to teach them and clears his throat, catching the attention of his two friends. He glances at you to check how you're doing after hearing what they said, but as expected, you remain professional and stoic. But Megumi knows better, he grew up under your and Satoru's wings after all.
"Shit." Nobara and Yuuji mutter under their breaths.
-----
It's fairly common for people to question your relationship with Satoru. He's this... happy-go-lucky guy who annoys everyone except those on the same wavelength as him, while you keep to yourself, prioritizing your alone time, and taking things seriously.
Sometimes, too serious.
You never let it get to you, though, because you don't really care what people say. You and Satoru are happy, that's all that matters. Until recently, when those jerk Kyoto students came over to train, they started talking about you and Satoru.
"She's so serious all the time, I don't understand how Gojo puts up with her."
"I think he's scared to breakup with her."
"I bet she's high maintenance."
"Honestly, why is he with her when he can be with someone who's... not so difficult?"
You grit your teeth at that last comment. You can't tell who said what, but it doesn't matter. Their words got to your head and now you're angry. Angry because you're scared they might be right.
Does Satoru think you're difficult? You're not entirely sure how to show them that yes, you deserve Satoru despite being the dark, grumpy person you are.
Sighing, you decide to go home instead of joining the dinner. Satoru's not in there anyway, he just got back from a mission and is waiting for you at home.
Once you close the door to your apartment, you immediately feel Satoru's arm envelope around you from behind. He smells like fresh mint -- just got out of the shower.
"Hi darling," he kisses your cheek.
"Hi, Toru." You take your shoes off and give him a quick peck before making your way to the bedroom to put your stuff down.
Satoru watches you slowly, "hm, aren't you supposed to have that dinner with the Kyoto students today?"
Your jaw clenches, taking a second before shrugging. "Decided to skip it. I'm tired."
He just hums, "In that case, you wanna watch Bridgerton with me after your shower?"
"Again?" You groan, "Isn't it like the third time you've watched it?"
"Yes, and?"
"I'll skip, thanks."
He blows a raspberry and leaves you to shower while he lays down on the couch to watch Anthony Bridgerton fall in love with his Kate Sheffield.
While you were in the shower, the words kept coming back to you. Somehow more exaggerated. You're difficult. He doesn't like you. He's just tolerating you. Why would he be with someone who doesn't even smile? Look at him, Gojo is the epitome of sunshine. You're nothing like him. Why would he like you?
Groaning, you let the hot water wash away your thoughts -- though they don't really go away. Maybe you should just try to be nicer to Satoru, be more cheerful.
After your shower, you see him lying down on the couch while watching his show, and you sit on the other end, silently dreading having to watch the same show again. But you're doing this for Satoru, so you will.
With a satisfied grin, Satoru saunters over and lies down on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You smile softly, enjoying the tight grip he has on you and his soft hair between your fingers.
"How was the mission?" You ask, "Did you have to go to Shoko?"
Satoru shakes his head, "Sweetheart, it's me we're talking about here."
"You can still get hurt, Toru." You pat his hair gently, "I've seen you bleed."
"I'm always careful. Don't worry." He kisses your hand.
You sigh softly. You know Satoru is always careful, it's just that he always goes on missions alone, and more often nowadays that it makes you worry. Yes, he's the strongest, but you never want to take that for granted.
"Toru," You call him again, a little hesitant, "You know I love you, right?"
He lifts his head from your chest, staring at you with those big blue eyes. "Of course. And I love you. So much."
He kisses you deeply, now switching positions so you're lying down on top of him. "So do you want to talk about it?"
"No.." You mumble. Of course, Satoru knows. He isn't stupid. He can sense when something's wrong with you, just like how you can feel the scar on his hip that wasn't there before. He did go to Shoko.
But none of you say anything. You just hold each other tighter that night. It's more than enough.
-----
Satoru is on another mission. It's supposed to be easy, at least that's what he said 3 days ago. You haven't heard from him at all in 3 days and you're beginning to worry. Your frown is deeper than usual, you sigh more often, and your fuse is shorter.
Everyone's more scared of you.
You let the kids take a break while you try to collect your thoughts. You can't be seen so distracted, not when Satoru left you in charge of them.
"You doing okay?" You hear Megumi's voice approach you.
Blinking away the tears that almost fell, you turn around to face him. "I'm fine, Megs."
"I told you not to call me that..." He sulks as he stands next to you, leaning against the wall. He can see you're distraught, and growing up with you, there's only been a handful of times he's seen you like this.
"You know he's going to be fine, right?"
You sigh. "I'm just worried."
You remember there was a day when Satoru didn't come back for a week. He couldn't be reached, no one could track him down, and you were just at home, taking care of Megumi. The boy's more like you than Satoru, he's not exactly sensitive or cheery. But he knows when you're feeling sad, so he'd stay up with you, praying for Satoru's safety.
"Guys!" Yuuji runs towards you and Megumi.
"What is it, Yuuji?"
"It's Gojo-sensei-" He pants, "He's back!"
You run as fast as you can with Yuuji and Megumi, and you can finally see your white-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend limping his way back to the school grounds.
He raises his hand and waves to you with a big smile despite struggling to walk. "Tsk-" You frown even more, feeling the tears pooling again as you walk towards him and catch him in an embrace.
"Umph-" He groans. "Hi, baby."
You let go of him and check his injuries -- he's healed most of it himself, thank goodness, but the bruises are still there. "We need to go to Shoko-"
"Mm, that can wait." He pulls you to sit down on the soft grass, hugging you once again. "It's okay, I'm here now."
You choke on your own sobs and hug him tighter, sitting between his legs and burying your head in his chest. "You idiot."
"'M sorry for makin' you worry," he smiles gently, leaving kisses all over your face.
As you cup his face in your hands, you're suddenly very aware of the 3 pairs of eyes staring at you both. Noticing it too, Satoru covers your red, embarrassed face. "Okay, nothing to watch here. Go.. do something. Scram. Skedaddle."
Once the kids are gone, you examine his face before pressing your lips to his. He's here now. He's back. He's safe. "What took you so long?"
A smirk lingers on Satoru's lips. "I took a detour to Kyoto and went to teach some kids a lesson."
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azsazz · 1 day
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Hide (Part 2)
Eris x Rhysands!Sister Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Literally in love with every fic you write. I know your requests are closed but in the future, could you write something where Eris and the reader see each other and there’s a lot of tension and they’re secretly mates but no one knows? I’m curious to see how you’d end it!
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 1,428
[Part One]
Notes: Obsessing over this one.
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You swallow harshly at your brother’s question, eyes darting over to catalogue your mate. You try not to startle in your seat when a wall of harsh autumn winds slams between your bond. He’s only protecting you; you must remind yourself. There’s a fine tremble to your hands, so you clench them together in your lap. 
Azriel notes the move, your restlessness as Rhysand stares down your mate like these are his last moments on this plane of existence. You have no idea what Rhysand’s going to do to Eris, but with the thick darkness rolling from his shoulders and slowly filling the room, whatever it might be will not be good.
You cannot let that happen. 
“Rhysand—"
Your brother holds up a hand, his glare swinging towards you. The thin line of betrayal ringing his eyes makes your stomach roil. You hadn’t meant to break his trust and you never intended on keeping secrets from him, but with the courts on the edge of war…
“Do. Not. Speak.” Rhysand’s demand is a death knell of its own. When you were young, you remember how he’d always been the one to listen to any of your problems, even when they felt silly. He would always offer you a solution if you were looking for one, or a piece of cake if you only wanted to wallow in your feelings. 
The smell of burning wood answers his harsh words. 
Cassian shifts in his seat, eyeing Eris. He leans further back in his chair and places his hand on the table, the wicked curve of the short blade clutched firmly in his hand pointing directly at your mate.
Your bond flares, eyes going hard at the sight of the threat to your mate. You’re ready to jump out of your seat, scramble across the table to tackle the male, no matter how much you consider him family. You know all of Cassian’s weak spots, and your gaze is calculating as you decide which maneuver will draw him away from your mate.
The single look Eris sends you keeps you from reacting. 
Instead, you settle back in your seat, showing Eris your unfaltering trust for him. You will allow your mate to say his piece to your brother. You might be crossing your arms over your chest with a hard look all your own, but you will heed Eris’ silent ask of you.
Eris is a mask of nonchalance, and you wish he hadn’t blocked you from his feelings, but it’s better this way. He cannot have your reactions to your brother muddling his own feelings. It’s safer for the both of you to keep to yourself right now, no matter how much you hate the idea of being apart from him like this.
“I will ask you once more,” Rhysand’s voice is filled with smoke. “How long have you been putting your filthy fucking hands on my sister.”
Something flares in Eris’ russet eyes that makes you want to bite, to snarl at your brother for his cruelness. You gnaw the insides of your cheeks to keep from snapping. 
“Would hearing that answer please you, High Lord?” Eris snarks back. He sits easily in his seat as if this isn’t an interrogation at all, as if they’re all bantering over the weather and Rhysand isn’t looking at him like he’s about to unleash the beast within him that he keeps on a short chain. The only give to Eris’ temper are the burnt handprints on the armrests of the chair he’s lounging in. “To know that the fires of autumn light the stars of night?” 
You want to hiss at him for his words. You should’ve known better that Eris would do nothing but taunt your brother. He is nowhere near as powerful as Rhys, especially since he is still under the rule of his father, but his specialty is that mouth of his. 
You try not to think about how he uses that mouth when he’s with you, the yearning for him flooding your body so deeply you clench your thighs together. Another motion that Azriel tracks, cocking his head a little as he watches you with that unnervingly stoic face of his. You shoot him a pleading look but are unable to make out how he reads into your pleas not to hurt your mate.
Rhysand bares his teeth in warning. The flare of his nostrils and the stars winking out of his eyes tells you that he’s moments away from unleashing his wrath upon Eris.
“Two years,” you blurt and all gazes swing your way. You don’t look at anyone else except for Eris, your eyes soft and pleading. His eyes flicker back and forth between yours and his shoulders slump a little, cracking the steel trap blocking your bond to send down a cool rush of apology that you accept with a soft nod. “We’ve been mated for two years.” 
There’s a sharp exhale coming from your brother but you can’t look away from your mate. Two years since you offered him that dessert from your favorite bakery the one time you’d been able to sneak away from your brother and his friends to meet Eris at the portal where Night crossed into Autumn. 
Two years of fiery, passionate nights, hidden away in your own solace. Two years of a fresh breath of autumn, of copper hair and russet eyes and the warmest hands you’ve ever had the pleasure of touching. Two years of unyielding loyalty. Two years of too much time spent apart—
No more. You won’t have it. Rhysand can act as protective older brother as much as he wants but it isn’t going to stop you from being with Eris any longer.
Darkness of your own ekes out of you as you plant your hands on the smooth surface of the table and rise. You stare Rhysand down as the tendrils of black wind around his, Azriel, and Cassian’s wrists, pinning them to their spots. You are in no way matching Rhysand’s power, but he seems at a loss for words as you stand up for yourself, watching with those all too calculating feline eyes of his, allowing you your time.
Stalking around the table, you don’t break the High Lord’s gaze. You hold your chin high even if there’s a pinch of terror in your gut for this continued betrayal to your brother, to your court. But he has no idea what you’ve given up for this bond, how you’ve suffered being kept from your mate. 
One day, you hope Rhysand will understand. Will understand why you halt a step behind where your mate is still trapped to his chair. Why you place a hand on his shoulder, the feeling of him after so long filling your lungs to maximum capacity. You haven’t ben able to breathe fully since you’ve been away from each other. 
He’ll understand why it is that your actions look like you’re swearing fealty to another court, when you’ve already been a patron of autumn ever since you and Eris completed your mating bond. 
“What are you—“ Your brother breathes when he realizes the severity of what you’re doing.
“I will not be kept from my mate any longer.” Your words are loud and sure. You think you’ve done a good job at standing up to Rhysand, until his eyes flicker and the house shakes on its studs.
All of the air is sucked from the room at your words. The strip of skin you’re touching on Eris’ neck warms, but it does little to settle you. You’re not out of the clear yet.
Slowly, all too slowly, Rhysand leans back in his seat. The way he’s looking at you makes you shift in your spot, the disbelief and  in his eyes a bright streak before he snuffs it out, returning to the easy role of High Lord he’s practices meticulously for centuries. 
It hurts to see.
With a careless flick of his hand he breaks through your shadows with ease. All of the darkness in the room dissipates, ever faithful to their master. You only hold an ounce of power compared to him. 
The corner of his mouth curves, and if it’s a smirk or a snarl you don’t know, but neither is as harrowing as the words that slip past his lips. “I wonder which will get you killed faster—your loyalty or your love.” Rhysand stands, turning his back on you as he stalks towards the door. “Get out of my court.”
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Tagging those who commented if you don't want to be tagged on this just lmk <3 Some of you couldn't be tagged btw
Hide Taglist: @littlestw01f @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen @naturakaashi @lexluvswriting @chybay22 @roseliey @acotar-thirst @teenagellamaangel @minaethrym @tothestarsandwhateverend @coolepowersthings @lena-davina @xyzmeh @meritxellao @shadowdaddysposts @callsigns-haze @mrs-azriel @eminvelaris @daily-does-of-sass @kennedy-brooke
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controld3vil · 2 days
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sand walking?
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pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic!!)
synopsis: requested by this ask!
⤷ alt: how to seduce someone walking on sand.
notes: there hasn't been confirmed for dune 3 yet but denise villeneuve has said he's writing for it to happen. ill patiently wait for the day it's confirmed :) ALSO there are fictional/made-up mentions of the novel for the sake of the reader. they're made to be gender-neutral!! and this includes platonic flirting between cast members. i MAY have gotten carried lmaoo
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“I mean- what do you think of the character? Do you think they deserved more screen time?” The clip starts off with you comfortably conversing with the interviewer. To say you weren’t deflecting their curiosity. In actuality, you were eager to learn what others thought about your performance and take on the character. The only other interpretation had on-screen was from the classic 1984 film by David Lynch.
The clip that has been widely retweeted back is of a cute moment you had from the first film of Dune (2021). Before release, little was known about your character’s potential. Apart from the enthusiastic book lovers, film viewers were clueless about what role your character would play after the first movie.
Denise Villeneuve didn’t reveal much to you in person. He wanted to keep ideas confidential until he was 100% on board making the project come to life. Still, rumors sparked through speculation and interviews with the cast members of Dune. Including an infamous short, that you forgot about, of yourself boasting about your hopes and wishes for your character.
“Yes! How could we not!” On the opposite side, the interviewer exclaimed as they leaned forward from their chair, closing into your proximity. Their hands clenched, tightening their grip on the flash card, full of questions. “The movie left us on such a cliffhanger. I think everyone would want to know what happened to Nerre,”
“That’s for Denise to decide,” Nodding you gave a relaxed smile while lifting one leg over the other. Your shoulders relaxed, feeling content and ecstatic about their response. “I can’t confirm anything until he gives me the green light to say anything,”
“I’ve also talked to Timothée this morning,” A shift in gears as the journalist flipped over another flashcard. You two had just fussed about the finale and its dramatic cliffhanger. “And all he had to say were the sweetest things about you,” At the mention of your costar compliments, you felt your skin heat up. Your eyes soften, expressing only fondness for the lovely message. A soft awh escaped your breath. “He’s very sweet. Timothee's always been fun to be around.” A fervent chuckle from the interviewer sends them into a feverish excitement. “And- he said- you had great flirting skills!” It was then your face morphed into complete shock and giddiness . “Really?!” The camera pans up on your initial reaction, eyes popping out in surprise and a bubbling laugh slowly erupting. “I’m glad someone appreciates my talents!”
Without context, the short clip seemed harmless. Your sheer reaction to Timothee's comment emphasized the fun chemistry the two of you had on set. Mirroring much of Paul and Nerre's friendship, you both complimented each other well in the first film, being the youngest surrounded by well-renowned actors. But the reason for the recent spike of interest was partially from Dune: Part Two and their interviews.
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Fast forward to the debut of Dune: Part Two, it made success at the box office. Even surpassing the first film altogether. The entire cast of Dune was proud of the work they've made. The introduction of new characters played by wonderful actors and actresses all around.
Weeks after the early IMAX screenings, press interviews were being published amongst of the young cast members. A particular interview by IGV Presents brings together Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya, Florence Pugh, Austin Butler, and yourself.
This would be considered to be one of your first interviews with the Dune cast after the box office release. You felt nervous yet overjoyed at the same time to be meeting your co-actors again after the conclusion of filming had taken place.
The spokesperson of IGV, Simon Harkness starts off the interview strong with a pleasant greeting. "Congratulations on an incredible movie. Uhm it is the definition of a sci-fi blockbuster and is absolutely phenomenal, so huge congratulations to you all!"
"Thank you!" The five of you all politely cherish his kind words.
"It's so lovely to talk to you. Um- Timothee, Zendaya, I'm going to start with you. This is probably the hardest question I've ever asked in an interview so you've been warned." An endearing giggle can be seen from Zendaya before allowing him to continue. "Sand walking, who does it better?"
Timothee immediately lifts up his microphone. "I'm going to give it to Zendaya here." Without glancing at her, you could tell Zendaya was happily smiling at his compliments. How quick he was to answer made it seem how well connected the cast was even given the amount of time spent together. The main lead continues very swiftly, diving more into how cinematic the shot was from an outside perspective, "I think it's the most- one of the most cinematic shots in the movie and she really has it very precisely down but it's the nature of the movie too that she's supposed to be better than Paul,"
"Is that what it is?" In return, Zendaya who sat next to him gave him a teasing look.
Quietly from afar where you sat, next to Austin Butler, you whispered. "He acted like he couldn't do it but," Soft snickering can be heard across the room.
"In fairness to me, I was going 65%- 65 to 70 too hard," Chalamet reasons justly as he glances in your direction before looking back to the interviewer.
"You dumbed it down," Harkness nods in a high-spirited manner. Right after, Timothee reluctantly agrees, keeping the mood light-hearted.
"I had to!"
"Just how committed you are!" Austin steps in, joining in on the joke.
"Zendaya, you can take that crown. I love that," The brown-haired man reassures as she recuperates with appreciative laughter. In truth, it was a beautiful scene between Paul and Chani you were lucky enough to witness behind the camera. And contrary to their light banter, you thought both actors did well at accomplishing what it was meant sand walk. Truthfully you had no scenes beyond walking through the desert but understanding the mechanics and traditions of the Fremen was as fascinating as it was watching it up close.
Suddenly it was Florence's turn to speak, "Zendaya taught me the other day and I had to just stop to stare at her feet."
"The swoopy swoop?" You asked in a cutesy tone, with furrowed eyebrows. You couldn't help but remember the few instances you witnessed your costars practice the sand walk to be one of the more adorable rehearsals you've seen on the sand.
"Yeah, her feet were so pretty! She was doing the swoopy swoops," The blonde acknowledges, waving her hands in a zig-zag pattern. As the replication of water and how her feet moved.
The interviewer's eyes light up, "Honestly I tried to swoopy swoop at home- um because we have a carpet in the bedroom."
"How did it go?" The mixed actress puts forward.
"Awful!" An assembly of bewilderment is seen between Zendaya and Florence as they quickly question why. However, they reassure him in the end that they would practice together in hopes of him archiving the sand walk.
Talks with simple questions went down the row. Florence discusses her experience from her beginnings, starring in Little Women, comparing those scenes in terms of royalty to Dune. In both films, she's worked with well-known actors and now Christopher Walken as the emperor and her father. She raves about how it was a dream come true. A dream she had when she was little. From this experience, Florence emphasizes the concept of learning and observing her fellow actors.
Another intriguing topic follows Austin for his experience between learning choreography fighting and Elvis's iconic rubber legs. In a sense, as you leaned forward on one of your seats, you became fascinated by the Elvis actor's comparison of it all. While Elvis's moves were televised and had to be precise for the camera, being a Harkonnens gave him more leverage in the freedom to move. It was a captivating question that you couldn't help but want to listen to more.
Comparisons aside, you didn't have much to note for your upcoming question. Which is exactly why you felt unprepared for what he was going to ask.
Harkness brings up your name for the finale. "You have done stunt work before. For the first and now second film, I've heard you compared it to rather- dancing. Is that what you think your relationship with the choreography has been?"
You gave a content hum, "You see it with the Fremen or Harkonnens right? Everyone moves so differently and for the course for me, I've had to adjust my choreo little by little. And I think that analogy you mentioned really does relate back to dancing. I don't know if it's because I was once a dancer or that I'm a visual learner," You shrug your shoulders, "But I see the choreography as a dance routine. You're moving alongside people, doing hits and jabs. Both are very hands-on so I would like to approach it as something I can always work on." Satisfied with your answer, you clapped your hands together.
"Kind of like sand walking no?" It was then that Zendaya swerved counterclockwise to face you.
Bringing back the conversation they had in the beginning about sand walking, your eyes instantly brighten. "Exactly like that!"
"I feel like you would be great at sand walking," Florence puffs, mindlessly shaking her microphone back and forth. "You- You already got the moves." Even Timothee came into agreement, humming and commenting you worked well with the choreography.
Austin Butler raises his microphone. "I think you gotta learn with me because I don't think I could,"
"Nonsense!" You give him a silly glare. "If you can do a killer rubber leg, I think you can sand walk." Florence and Zendaya both mumble their support and your male costar leans to have his arm around the back of your chair, warmly.
"Is that an open invitation I see?" The spokesperson, Harkness giggly pokes at than the rest of the cast turns to look at you. Your scowl morphs into an innocent one.
"Hm?" As you squint your eyes in hesitation.
"I feel like you could have the potential to sand walk but just with the right partner," Timothee chimes in, spreading his arms over his chair as well. Your brows furrowed accusingly, as if wanting to clarify what he meant by his comment.
And the French actor gives you a look, one you became so sure of. "Mm right!" A slight eruption of laughs before you straightened your back with proper posture. "With just the right partner,"
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There were also hints mentioned in your interview with Timothee surprisingly not. This was one of the more recent ones to be published, as you finally were able to pair up with your favorite co-star (besides Brolin) from the first film. The two of you had strong chemistry despite having less screen time together in the second film.
The beginning of the video cuts to a clip of you answering an innocent question. "What I think about every day, is Timothee going to send to me a meme today? Uh, I hope so!" You give a sarcastic look to your seat partner as he latently laughs in front of you. "Or when is he going to text me you know?"
It then transitions to an interviewer from Heart commercial radio as he shouts out your names. "How are you both?"
"I'm doing good!"
"Going great!"
The radio show was more relaxed than you would've expected as the spokesperson was very down to the earth with his conversation starters and contagious warmth. Timothee was able to catch up with him from his last interview when he premiered his Wonka film. Eventually, the interview became more casual discussing working together, cooking, and trendy topics.
Timothee and you both went back and forth on favorite memories you had of the first film. And talking about the new cast members and new elements it had brought to the table for the film itself.
"Cool new characters this time," As you played around with the fuzzy microphone the camera crew gave to you.
"Yup lots of new people to meet," Timothee adds on, nodding.
The interviewer proceeds with the question, "And also you have seen- there's a clip about of you running around actually." He signals to you, "Of your reaction to something Timothee said about your performance in the first film,"
"Oh! I've seen it," Almost instinctively, your co-star raises his hand. "I was supposed to send it to you but I forgot." As he turns, to finds you looking lost at the topic at hand.
"Really what was it?" You almost looked concerned, seeing how you didn't understand what they meant.
Luckily for you, the Heart radio spokesperson managed to get a hold of the video from his phone, "It was a little callback of Timothee raving about your flirting skills."
As it plays, the camera zooms in on you and your co-actors reaction. The French actor couldn't help but look slightly embarrassed but smitten when the timing of your reaction came on screen. While you held an intrigued stance, arms crossed and a content grin.
"I am pretty good at flirting,"
"You really are, huh." At the same time, you both turn to make eye contact.
"I also heard Tim- that you thought that they would be your love interest initially?" At the radio speaker's inquiry, you couldn't help but in mid-sentence, finally, swerve your head suddenly.
"Yeah well, fun fact actually," The male actor tries to reason, sitting up. "In the novels, Paul and Nerre almost did become a couple!"
It was a well-known fact of that in the first novel, there had been slight changes to the story. Initially, it was said that the author, Frank Herbert had planned for Paul and Nerre, the character you played to have a romantic connection after the fall of House Atreides. Nevertheless, it was later scrapped for another plot, that of instead having Chani as the love interest. But even decades later after the novel’s release, it was something fans still fuss about.
"Oh, I heard about that!" Almost in awe, you nodded, your attention fully on Chalamet, wondering how far he was willing to go beyond spoilers.
"Do you think Nerre would ever meet someone then?" The afro man questions, adjusting his microphone. "Since- Paul has Chani, I feel like if we ever get a potential third film, that could open some doors!"
"If a third film could happen," You start, fiddling with the lining of the mic cover, "I hope so! I mean I got the moves, I got the skills!"
"Keep practicing your sand walk and we'll see," Timothee cutely chimes as you proceed to blow a raspberry at him. Only for him to lightly swat you away.
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Despite your failures to have scenes of sand walking, your cast of a crew were more than happy to show you. Javier Bardem and Jessica Ferguson were quite supportive in your interest for something you did not have any part-time. A few behind the scene videos show the actor demonstrating from afar the slower version of the walk.
Though your back was facing the camera, viewers would pick up and recognize it to be you. Jessica as well was off to the side, in her luminescent costume of a million robes, clapping from side to side.
Another later pans to you taking long strides across the sand in the background. In front of the camera are Josh Brolin and Javier having their turn in the video, to discuss their relationship and the previous they have worked on together. However, viewers couldn't help but pinpoint your figure alongside the frame trying to master the patterns of what Javier taught you from the previous clip.
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Hello! It's me, the obscure blorbo guy. I just couldn't stay away so I'm back with another poll blog. In this one I get to have all the fun by swaying the results to whoever I want to win.
How do the polls work?
The main structure of this tournament is pretty standard, There is a bracket of characters chosen by you, and they will be matched up in polls where the results with the most votes moves on. Simple. The twist in in the polls themselves, where I will attempt to divide the options that I don't like to make them lose, since it's not the character with the most votes that wins, but the poll option with the most votes.
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Here is an example, I am a much bigger fan of Heavy then I am Sasuke, so I add a bunch of extra options so that unless a BUNCH of Naruto fans vote (or people coordinate and lie), Heavy probably going to win, even if more people liked Sasuke.
Btw, lying and coordination is encouraged. I think that it could be a fun minigame to see if you guys can overrule any bad opinions I have.
How are characters submitted
You can submit characters in the google form below. I encourage you to submit as many characters as you like, just don't submit any one character more then once.
Also it should go without asking, but please no real people, mcyt (too much of a grey area with previous rule), H*rry P*tter, or things that are bad for the same reason as H*rry P*tter (Such as FNAF). Other then that pretty much anyone is on the table, but I recommend doing more well known characters.
How are characters selected?
There are 32 slots. How I will select who makes it in is the characters with the most submissions, this is to try to get a roster of characters that most people will have some sort of opinion on. If there is a tie for the last slot or 2, I'll just pick who I like best cause that's kinda the point of the blog anyway. But in order to reduce the chance of that please submit lots of characters, especially well known ones.
However I will one be allowing 1 character from each source, just for variety.
When will submissions close/When will polls start?
I dunno. Submissions of course end when I post the bracket, but how long that takes is dependent on how fast I get submissions. I'll keep you updated but I wanted to say this here since I knew people would ask.
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disneyprincemuke · 1 day
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you can't spell lonesome without me * fem!driver
everyone and everything she's ever loved seems to be slipping away from her grasp and she doesn't know how to stop it
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver
notes: hi! matt and rocky angst comes after this so hehe gl with this guyz hope u enjoy it because it actually took 20 years of my life tryna write this LOL
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
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sebastian keeps telling her that it’s not her fault; to look at the bigger picture to get some perspective. but she doesn’t quite understand why the bigger picture has to have liam in it — frankly, who cares if liam’s qualified 15th and she ended up behind him? that’s not the point.
the point is she finds herself at another weekend where she couldn’t deliver results.
she hasn’t spoken much since she crawled out of her car after getting knocked out in the first round of qualifying. and she appreciates that matt hasn’t forced anything out of her just yet.
she’d stormed out of her garage and tried to get through all her interviews as gracefully as she could. but how could she ignore her results when, week after week, the questions and criticisms are the same?
it’s slowly getting harder and harder to keep her feet on the ground when things are slowly coming undone around her.
and she can’t thank matt enough for letting her cancel their plans without another word. she’d simply uttered that she just wanted to be locked away in their hotel room and he agreed without prodding too much.
she steps out of her racing home, taken aback by the 4 other bodies of her friends that are riddled by the porch, all on their phones. she tilts her head as she holds the door in her hands. “what are you guys doing here?”
logan is the first to look up, furrowed eyebrows and lips pursed in what she can only assume to be out of annoyance. “what do you mean? we’re heading out for ice cream tonight.”
she glances at matt next to her, who’s already looking at her as he awaits her response. she sighs as she looks back at her friends. “i’m sorry, mate,” she apologises, shaking her head. she weaves herself out of matt’s grasp and takes a step forward. “i’m not feeling great tonight.”
“what?” oscar whines, lifting his head from his phone with a slight frown. “is it a fever? are you alright?”
“i’m alright.” she smiles very slightly, picking on her arm as she forces another lie to her lips. “we can go tomorrow after the race, but just not tonight, i think. i’m sorry.”
liam furrows his eyebrows with a loud sigh. “is it because of qualifying?” he grins when she looks over at him. “if it’s any consolation, i’m not happy about it either, mate.”
she laughs softly. “yeah, it sucks.”
“i can’t do tomorrow. my flight’s right after the race,” mick frowns with a sigh. “i’m meeting laila for a bit before the next race weekend.”
“oh,” logan hums, turning away from mick to look at her. “we can go just us, right?”
“i can’t either,” oscar hisses, his frown growing. “i’m flying back home for an event that lily has. she needs me there.”
“ah,” she grins with a nod. she looks at logan. “we don’t have to get ice cream this weekend. it’s okay.”
logan raises an eyebrow. “you’re sure?”
she nods. “i’m sure.”
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“it feels like it’s been so difficult to get a grasp of you lately. have you gotten too famous for me?”
she turns around with her head tilted, lips puckered as she takes a sip out of the pepsi can in her arms. “oh, hi max!”
“hi!” max perks up at her smile. “i’ve barely spoken to you since the second race. how are you?”
she sucks in a deep breath as she looks around the busy paddocks, people turning their heads at her and max, and some cowering away immediately when she catches their eye. she looks back at max with a frank smile. “good.”
he lifts an eyebrow. “really?”
she knows that talking to someone would probably ease her mind with all her thoughts. it might even calm her down to a certain degree.
and she almost does.
but she doesn’t. instead, she says, “of course. i feel great, even.”
“well,” max puts a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to snap her head up to look at him, “take my advice, mate. don’t be too hard on yourself.”
but the question still begs: how exactly does she not do that?
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there’s a slight scowl on her face as she looks up at the podium. her arms are folded over her chest as the australian national anthem blasts from the speakers.
her best friends have made it on the podium this season — without her. while it’s not totally unheard of that she misses out on the share of glory, it’s never usually her on the receiving end of this torment.
at least not as of late.
to oscar’s left is logan clad in blue, and to his right is mick in the mercedes suit. it’s almost annoying.
there’s an itch in her brain and a smidge of resentment starting to grow in her chest. it’s wrong to feel this way — she knows it is — because these are her friends achieving big things in their sport. but is it so wrong that she’s starting to feel a little jealous?
just a little bit. just a little. just a touch.
maybe if she sleeps this off and wakes up tomorrow, all remnants of resentment would somehow no longer exist.
she shouldn’t feel this way, no. it’s not right. she forces a smile to her face, waving halfheartedly at oscar when he catches her eye. he pumps his fist into the air and waves his trophy in the air.
next to her is lily with her phone up, pictures and videos taken. and of course, ylona’s next to her, waving excitedly at logan as she points at her phone to get him to pose for a picture.
she presses her lips together, annoyance growing in her gut as her airways start to close in on itself. it’s just so hard to breathe especially with everyone pressed up against her. she’s still sweaty from the race, her hair is sticking against her forehead and her race suit starts to feel just slightly restricting.
she huffs softly, hooking a finger into the neckline of her fireproofs.
but everything feels like it’s burning.
“excuse me,” she mutters, dropping her head low as she pushes herself through the crowd. she ignores the way lily and ylona call after her in confusion.
she heaves when she manages to rid herself of the crowd, hands on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath. she catches max’s eye right by parc ferme, engaged in a conversation with charles.
she sees the way he perks up in concern at her but chooses to ignore it. she just picks herself up and heads to the media pen to do her interviews.
the feeling will eventually leave.
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she looks around the ice cream parlour, slouched slightly with her hands pressed between the cushion of the seat and her thighs. in retrospect, it felt like coming out after media day would have been the ideal time to come out and indulge in ice cream.
but now that she’s sat here, stuck between liam and mick in a booth, it seems that she has made a mistake.
“what are you having, rocky?” logan asks, tapping the table in front of her to catch her attention. “rocky road with extra marshmallows still? or do you feel like vanilla ice cream today?”
with the way her stomach has been churning recently, any form of chocolate makes her feel sick. she shakes her head. “maybe just a lemon sorbet if they have that available.”
an audible gasp comes from either side of her. she throws her head back and looks between them. liam has the back of his hand pressed up against her forehead, mick’s tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows and logan’s staring down at her with parted lips.
“what are you guys doing?” she asks mellowly, swatting their hands away from her. “don’t touch me.”
“sorbet?” liam scowls, pointing a finger at her. “is everything okay? you’re like sorbets’ number one hater.”
she raises her eyebrows and chews on the inside of her cheeks. “am i?”
“yes,” logan emphasises. “you literally told me off one time for having sorbet during our ice cream dates. you and oscar wouldn’t let me live it down for weeks!”
she blinks at him. “you got a raspberry sorbet, so you had that coming.”
“no!” logan shrieks. “sorbet? really? what’s wrong with you? is everything okay? you always say sorbets are inferior to ice cream.”
she nods hesitantly. she vaguely remembers the one time that she’d gone on a drunk tangent about sorbet not being ice cream. to which she can say that she understands logan’s argument. “well, i’m not really feeling ice cream today.”
mick hums, making her turn her head to look at him. “if it’s just this one time, i guess we can excuse the behaviour.”
she hears logan humming, eyes still narrowed down into a glare. “just this one time, rocky. i’ll give you a chance.”
“great, thanks. i was worried you’d bully me into having ice cream tonight.”
“keep up the sarcasm and i’ll actually force you.”
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she flinches when she opens the door to her driver’s room, only to find it occupied. she blinks. “seriously, you’ve got to stop taking advantage of seb.”
“we missed you,” oscar grins, comfortably lying in her bean bag, tapping away on his phone. “and you weren’t answering our texts in the group chat.”
she looks over at matt and points at her friends. “really? you let them in?”
the green-eyed boy shrugs, lips pressed together. “4 versus 1 argument — remember that.”
there’s nothing that she wanted all day but to come back to a peaceful and silent driver’s room. she’d wanted to simply sit with matt in silence before she had to get up and drag her feet to a conference room and come up with diplomatic answers on the spot.
she just needed a couple of hours to herself to think and recuperate. to get herself in a better headspace after these past couple of races.
“where are we heading for ice cream tonight?” logan raises an eyebrow, not sparing her a look as he continues to tap away on his phone.
“ice cream,” she mutters, trailing off as she blinks. “oh, my god.”
she shakes her head, her palm pressed against her forehead. amidst everything that’s been in her head, she’d completely forgotten to research an ice cream parlour for them to visit tonight.
oscar chuckles. “you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”
“yes,” she answers, somewhat apologetically. “i’m so sorry. and i’m busy today, i don’t have the time. can either of you find a place?”
but there’s a different answer that she hopes they would choose instead of the standard answer that they’d give her.
she finds them wanting to say nevermind; that they’ll just not grab ice cream together.
to her dismay, that’s not what mick says. “oo, can i choose?”
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“give it a while, kid.”
“i don’t have a while!” she shrieks, looking around at her mobile car, cars passing her from the track. she can practically hear the comments and see the headlines once she steps out of the car when the race finishes. “tell them to fucking get it together! what the fuck is going on?”
she’s looking around wide-eyed, desperate to meet anyone’s eye for an explanation. the longer she stays parked in the pit, for what was supposed to be a pit stop, the less threshold she has to stay in the race.
“this is absolutely insane, seb. i was in p5 before this shit show.”
“rocky,” he hears her sigh into her ears, “just be patient.”
she dug her foot into the acceleration when the sign flipped to the bright green colour. adrenaline pumps through her veins as she convinces herself that her car will be good enough to put her back into a good spot.
that she’s good enough to put herself in a position where she’s no longer on the receiving end of harsh words this weekend.
above all else, she needs to prove to herself that she hasn’t lost her touch as a driver.
“you’re currently in p9.”
“what the hell happened during that pit?” she complains, the urge to roll her eyes growing stronger. “that was so fucked up, seb! you know what– it isn’t. it’s absolutely fucking unacceptable.”
“i know, rocky,” seb answers calmly, clearing his intonation to ensure that the young girl hears him. and actually listens because it doesn’t seem like she’s absorbing much of what he says. “we’ll debrief later after the race, okay? just focus on making the most out of the weekend.”
she grunts. “fine, whatever.”
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“ice cream tonight?” logan pops up next to her, grinning when she lifts her head from her intense gaze on her shoe. “found a spot?”
she sighs, blinking. “no. i forgot.”
logan takes a spot next to her on the couch, furrowing his eyebrows. “you forgot again?”
“yeah,” she huffs as she looks away to avoid his gaze. “sorry.”
truth is that she didn’t look for one on purpose. she just simply doesn’t feel like heading out with them tonight.
she just waits for the time that oscar and logan will let her be. perhaps the stupid ice cream tradition needed to be abolished altogether. just seems like a waste of time.
“no worries,” logan grins, patting her head gently. “you’ve had a long couple of race weekends past you. i’ll look for one, okay?”
she breathes out shakily, smiling halfheartedly. “okay, thank you.”
she finds herself dreading the ice cream date with her friends. she trails behind the group with small steps, watching her feet with every step as she formulates a way to escape her obligations.
she clears her throat and lifts her head. “um.”
“she’s spoken,” oscar jokes, grabbing logan’s arms — previously hitting him — and turns back to grin at her. “the curse must have been broken.”
“someone found the unmute button on the remote!” logan giggles, scrunching his nose. “what’s up, rocky?”
liam hums with a smile. “your girlfriend remembered she has friends!” he looks over at matt and nods. “good for her.”
“i’m like,” she trails off, biting down on her lip as she forces another lie out, “totally not feeling great. i’m on my period and i’m kind of lightheaded. is it alright if i sit this one out?”
“aw, bub,” matt coos, shoving liam off of him, arms extended as he approaches her. he tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. “you’re on your period?”
she looks up at matt, wide-eyed as she slowly nods. “just got it before we left my room.”
which is a lie.
“aw, does that mean matt’s not coming with us?” mick frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. “i haven’t spent time with him forever, that’s so unfair.”
she shakes her head, flashing mick a small grin. “no, it totally doesn’t mean that. he can go with you guys — i just wanna head back to the hotel and take a nap, really. i’ll be okay on my own.”
matt hums. “i’ll go with you.”
“you should go with them,” she laughs, grabbing his arm with a small nod. “i’ll text you when i’m back, i promise. i’ll be okay — i just need to take a nap, i reckon.”
logan furrows his eyebrows and his smile drops at her insistence. “i can walk you back to the hotel if you want.”
she shakes her head. “i’ll be okay. you guys have fun, okay?”
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she kneels on her beanbag, lips pressed together as she looks out of the tiny window of her driver’s room. right by the porch of her racing home are her friends gathered, laughing and having a good time as they awaited her arrival.
“bub,” matt sighs. “are you sure you don’t wanna come with us?”
she turns around with a small smile, scrunching her nose. “i’ll be okay, bub. i’m just not really feeling like heading to the club tonight.”
he walks over to her, slumping his shoulders as she leans into his body for a hug. “at least let me stay with you? i don’t like you being alone when i’m around. i’m sure we can come up with some silly excuse that they won’t giggle at like 12-year-olds.”
“you have to go,” she hums, pulling her head back to look up at him, “it’s logan’s race win — just go in my place, please? tell him i’m really sorry i can’t be there.”
he hums, cupping her cheek. she leans into his touch with a soft sigh and her eyes fluttering close. “you should tell him that yourself. you owe him that much; he’s your best friend.”
she shakes her head, her hand coming up to rest above the hand that’s on her face. “i can’t,” she chokes, tears filling her eyes, “you know how i feel about this. just do this one for me, bub.”
“fine,” he sighs, hunching over to press his lips to her forehead. “but you can’t keep avoiding logan and oscar and throwing me out there to face them. they miss you, you know?”
she can hear logan’s laugh in the air mixed with ylona’s. she grins slightly, “i’m sure they’ve got better things to care about other than me.”
“don’t even say that,” he pulls away, “text me when you get back to the hotel, okay? i love you.”
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she scratches the back of her head roughly, nails digging into her scalp as she holds her helmet in her hands.
she mutters under her breath as she tears everything off from her body: her balaclava, her gloves, the earpiece. everything’s not right, everything’s not going her way and that’s unfair.
nobody’s worked as hard as she has to be where she is right now is all that goes in her head. it’s unfair that she’s getting the brunt of the criticism when it came to andretti’s performance on the grid this year.
she doesn’t see liam getting decimated by the masses, and she clearly doesn’t see it on sebastian or her team principal or mechanics for not producing a car to get results in a weekend.
she’s qualified at the very back of the grid this time — p19. just imagine what everyone will have to say; what everyone will zoom into just to have something to say about her driving.
it’s always her skills, never the fact that the car is simply shit.
“rocky,” she hears sebastian sigh behind her. “let’s talk.”
she shakes her head, clenching her jaw as she heads towards the exit of her garage. she doesn’t bother turning around to look at him. “just fuck off.”
the one thing she wishes to stop coming by is sebastian’s excuses for the team. it’s the same thing over and over again. it’s unfair that she’s the one getting fucked over by the media.
it’s not fair.
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Text
you keep his shirt, he keeps his word
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The strong aroma of coffee woke you up that morning. It confused you because you were absolutely sure that your coffee maker was still in a box somewhere. Opening your eyes, it only took you a matter of five seconds to realize that you weren’t in your new apartment.
You were in Carmen Berzatto’s bed.
What started off as a night where you were meeting your best friend’s work friends ended up with you in the bed of one of them.
You never did this kind of thing. You never met a guy at a bar and went back to his place.
There was just something about Carmen.
When Sydney first introduced you to him in that small bar near The Bear, you literally fell in love with his eyes. They were this beautiful shade of blue. You instantly got jealous of him because of them. How ordinary your eyes were compared to his.
You wanted to stay far away from him, scared that you’d do or say something stupid. He eventually made his way back towards you and the rest was history.
Sydney gave you a rundown before you met everyone. She informed you that Carmen was shy as hell and often kept to himself. She also said to not be offended if he did so.
It surprised you when he made his way towards you and struck a conversation. It started off a little slow but there was this unspoken connection that blossomed.
He was shy in a totally adorable way and super charming. Sydney and everyone else that worked with him on a near daily basis was shocked at how he was acting. They didn’t dare think that he’d be the guy to approach a woman and have an actual conversation.
You sat with him in the little corner of the bar and talked about everything. He wanted to know what made you move to Chicago. How you knew Sydney. What your favorite food was.
His last question surprised you, “Would you like to go back to my place?”
Your response surprised you the most, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Fast forward to eight hours later and you were still tangled up in his sheets. You sat up and looked around for your belongings. You quickly found your phone, purse, jeans and undergarments. The shirt you wore last night was nowhere to be found.
You grabbed the first white shirt that you saw and slipped your clothes back on.
This was all new territory to you. You had no idea what you should do. Thank him for a great evening? Give him a high five? Run out without saying anything?
The door to his bedroom was cracked open. You heard the soft sounds of the radio playing.
As quietly as you could, you walked down the hallway and made your way to the main living area. You spotted Carmen in his kitchen. Shirtless.
He was at the stove. The sizzling of the pan and the smell made your stomach growl. Carmen turned to grab a plate when he saw you standing in the doorway.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He asked you.
You nodded, “Uh, yeah I did surprisingly.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m one of those people that has a hard time falling asleep if it isn’t in my own bed.”
“I’m glad that you were comfortable enough here to where that wasn’t a problem.” He made his way towards you and tugged on your- his shirt, “Looks good on you.”
You looked down and he still had a grip on you, “I normally don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Have one night stands. Going back to a guy’s apartment after barely meeting him isn’t really my thing.” You confessed. Part of you hoped he believed you. The other part didn’t want to be ashamed if it was something that you normally did.
One night stands weren’t something to be embarrassed about. You were a single woman who could date/hook up with anyone she wanted.
“Was this just a one night kinda thing to you?” Carmen asked.
You shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think?”
You wanted him to answer before you could. It was killing you inside to figure out what he was thinking.
“I think that last night, I met a woman that I would really like to get to know better.”
You couldn’t help but smile, “Really?”
He nodded and grinned, “Yes, really. Plus, you look great in my clothes and out of them.”
“Well that was a smooth line if I ever heard one.”
“There’s plenty more of that if you stick around with me,” Carmen leaned closer and placed a sweet kiss on your lips, “I made you breakfast.”
“You’re going to spoil me, Berzatto.” You set your purse down before taking a seat at his counter. He served you a delicious looking omelette with a cup of coffee.
“I plan to do so as long as you’ll let me. I’m a man of my word.”
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mushies-stories · 20 hours
Text
Showering with TF141 for the first time headcanons
TF141Xreader
Warnings: little suggestive, 18+
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John Price
Showering with John the first time made you feel like you had been doing it wrong your whole life. 
He has separate shampoo, conditioner and body wash. None of it smells too strong but over is a more masculine scent. He even suggested that maybe you bring some of your own shower supplies over to keep at his place.
He let you take up most of the warm water, the selfless and generous man he is. ^v^
Pampers you. John washes your hair and body without question. 
Thinks grooming each other is not only romantic but also is a strong form of bonding and closeness. He craves your attention and presence and showering together is perfect for that.
He uses a loofah to scrub your body, standing a little closer while he washes your back. His hands are firm but gentle as they caress your body and lather it in soapy suds. 
You lean with your head and back to his chest while his hands massage over your breasts and stomach. Teasing you just a little, fingers grazing along your nipples a little too much as he presses you closer against him. 
When his hand dips between your thighs and he runs his fingers between your folds you can’t contain the little moan you let out. He smiles into the crook of your neck and does it again and chuckles when your back arches, pressing your ass against him.
“Feel good love?” he teases. his hand abandoned your heat to rinse the rest of the soap off your body. With little sighs of protest from you. 
When he washes your hair, his hands are too gentle and so delicate that you could hardly believe they could ever be used for violence. He takes care not to snag any tangles and works them out with his fingers. Your eyes flutter shut when he starts to massage your scalp.
He makes sure not to get the soap in your eyes.
Is more than delighted when you take to washing him as well. Smiles and hands over the loofah. 
Maybe it's just me.. But… I imagine John standing in front of you with your back against the cold shower wall, his arms caging you in while you trail the loofah along his skin. 
It actually takes everything in him not to get to hard and fuck you. He had time for that later. Once you finally moved in he couldn't see a reason why he couldn't shower with you every chance he could get. 
Lets you use his bathrobe and laughs at how big it was on you. Make a mental note to buy you one of your own in your favorite color, but fluffier. 
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Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
At first Simon wasn’t sure if showering together would be that good of an idea. He already took up a lot of space. When you finally convinced him and managed to actually fit you both in he was a little surprised. 
You fit but he didn't get as much of the water, otherwise he would take it all.
To your horror Simon uses a 2in1 shampoo and conditioner BUT he does have separate body wash. 
Nothing too extreme or strong for scent. Body Wash is like  irish spring or something but even lighter.
He was going to just take care of himself real fast then focus on you but you stopped him, hand on his arm and reaching for the bodywash yourself. You ask him with those sweet eyes of yours if you can help. He nods silently and lets you do as you please. 
The only thing he has is a sad looking rag so you opt to just use your hands, rubbing the soap over his chest and shoulders, making him turn around so you can reach his back. 
(if you are brave and so desire, you may try and cop a feel, go ahead. Just be ready to get your wrist snatched as he whips back around with a glare.)
But overall he enjoys the attention, it's soothing and relaxing and he's groaning when you wash his hair. Your fingers raking across his scalp helps his mind slow down a little.  
Insists on repaying the favor, being as nice and gentle as you were, caressing your body in his large hands. He had an easier time washing your body than you did his, making sure to reach every little crevasse of your body.
He's tried really hard to be gentle with your hair. He doesn't want to pull on any tangles and ultimately fails. But he kisses your head every time he snagged his fingers in your hair.
“Sorry lovie… not meanin’ta tug so much.” he mumbles an apology. 
Simon decided he didn’t really mind showering together, you actually made it a much more enjoyable process, not just something for necessity. 
After the shower he gives you one of his white shirts that covers just below your ass to lounge in, just to see your still damp body through the thin fabric. 
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John 'Soap' MacTavish
Johnny was the one who dragged you into the shower with him with one clear goal. To make you smell like him before you go out with your friends, he had to get up early and decided to stay home.
Only problem.. Mans uses 3in1… granted its extra scented and you won't be able to mistake it was meant for men. But still, your cringe at the thought of using it. Even though you complain the whole time he’s lathering your body up and chuckles at you. 
He doesn't even have a rag, just a true dude really, roughing it in the shower. Just uses his rough calloused hands that sends chills down your spine instead.
Is handsy, can't stop himself from groping your breasts and lingering a little too long between your thighs. Even nipping and kissing your shoulder once he washed your body off. 
You have to bat his hands away to make sure you're not late, knowing you still have to get ready. 
“M’sorry dove, just so pretty and naked for me.” he groans into your ear, holding your back to his chest, hands cupping your breasts. “Sure ya gotta go? Can't just stay’er with me?” he pleads with you. 
You firmly, while giggling from his kisses on your neck, tell him you can't.
When he washes your hair he puts a little too much in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rely on Johnny to help you to the water. Teases you when you cling to him in your blinded state.
Honestly he wanted to ask you to wash him too but he knew you were running late so he did it himself quickly so you could get ready. 
Overall you don't mind his playfulness or his touchiness, with more time you would even indulge in it, but with better shower supplies. 
Drapes the towel over your shoulders and wraps you in his arms to keep you warm from the cold air.
good thing you at least had your makeup and outfit with.
You promise to buy a few new things for him, so you feel better about showering at his place. Then you'll make sure to give him the same treatment, with much more time. 
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Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Kyle, like John, has separate products. The scent of his body wash is stronger but with a... spicy?? under-tone to it.
Showering with him is a little slow, and lazy. He normally likes to shower right when he gets up and this time you just happen to join him, wanting to spend as much time with him before he leaves for the day. Not like he was complaining.
Keeps you close so you both can enjoy as much of the warm water as possible. Holds you to his chest most of the time  
Goes to wash himself before you stop him and take the body wash from him with a small smile. His heart flutters when you softly ask if you could help, which he responds to with a tired smile and a nod.
He lets himself relax, enjoying your hands lathering his body in suds. You were gentle and a little hesitant at first but soon gained full confidence when he handed you the shampoo and asked you to wash his hair too. 
You do so happily. You scratch and massage his scalp, making him groan with delight as the relaxing sensation. 
Before you even think of washing yourself, he's doing the exact same thing and stealing the bodywash, telling you it was his turn.
He’s respectful, only gripping onto your hips a little and cupping your breasts for only a moment. He has work and can't give you the attention you deserve. 
But that doesn't stop him too much, still not able to resist grabbing your ass and pulling you in for a lazy kiss.
When he washes your hair, he practically has you falling back asleep while you lean against him. He decided he could just eat on his way to base, making sure you were clean and happy was currently his top priority now.
Takes a moment to hold you under the showerhead, relishing in the warm water and you against him before reluctantly turning the water off.
He only has towels, but they're big and cover most of your body.
While he dresses, you crawl back in bed. Naked and clean. Kyle smirks and tells you that you better be right there, just like that when he gets home tonight. And you happily obliged. 
“Just like that, got it? Want ya naked and ready yeah.” He instructs with a glint in his eye.
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bluerosefox · 2 days
Text
"What do we do now? Tucker asked. His voice cracking with stress and worry as he stared at the scene before him not able to look away as his best friend and his family were being dragged out of their home.
Danny cuffed in anti-ghost cuffs and knocked the heck out with a ecto-gun pointed at his skull by one of the GIW agents, they eventually tossed Danny into their van that was parked right outside the Fenton Works. Jazz was pleading, begging them to let her brother go, even though she too was cuffed and not caring that another gun was at her back. Maddie was hissing like angry feral mama cat at the two agents, ignoring the other two that were holding her shoulders to keep her from squirming around and saying "you dare touch a single hair on my babies I will rip-" before she too was lead away to the GIW van. The last to come out was Jack and he looked haunted and stressed, and despite being a huge guy he was trying to make himself look small. He too was sent into the van, and one of the last things Tucker could see before the doors close was Jack kneeling down next to Danny and going to cradle him but being stopped by the GIW agent in the van.
Sam chewed on her lip, her eyes wide and wild as she tried to think of... well anything to save her friend and his family from this.
To think Vlad would be so petty after Danny finally told his parents about being Phantom and them accepting and loving him regardless and even apologizing for trying to hurt him that he would go and tattle to the GIW about Phantom.
Danny hadn't even told them about Vlad being a halfa either. Not even a bit. All Danny told them was that Vlad made him super uncomfortable. About how the guy seemed obsessed with his mom but seemed to be shifting his obsession to him.
And for once Jack listened, especially after Maddie finally told him the times the man flirted with her and had even tried getting her to leave Jack. With only Danny. No mention of Jazz, only Danny.
After that Jack turned papa bear mode.
Say what you will about Jack Fenton but his love for his family outweighs any kind of friendship.
So yeah Vlad finding himself being 'cut out' of the Fenton's lives, realizing the only times he could even get close to Maddie and Danny was because Jack was always welcoming to him, and finding out Jack point blank said he no longer wanted him around his family, he raged and decided to get back at Danny was to go tell the GIW about him being Phantom.
No doubt the creep was going to show up later, 'save' them and start making demands or indebt them to him.
And now here they were. The Fenton's, after being told about Phantom, were being unjustified hauled away by the GIW while all of Amity watches from the streets and despite the protest from, mostly teens, Amity Parkers no one could do anything with both weapons pointed at them or the 'law' decree.
Closing her eyes, Sam took a breath. When she opened them back up she finally looked away as the van and the rest of the GIW began to leave, her hands clutched so tight that her knuckles were turning a deadly white. When she finally released her grip she felt something in her hand.
Confused, Sam opened her hand and gasped as she recognized a familiarish green sticky note and words written in purple ink. She's never read any of the sticky notes CW would send Danny but she has seen them appear out of no where.
She read the note, ignoring Tuckers questioning, and once done she snapped her head to look at him. It was so fast that Tucker jumped for a second. Her eyes were alight with a new found kindle of hope, determination, and a plan.
"Sam? What is it?" Tucker finally asked once more, he had a feeling whatever she had in mind was going to be insane but if it sent by CW and meant to save his best friend he'd do it.
"We play into our strengths and get some help." She said as she brought the sticky note up for him to see.
"Help? From who?" Tucker asked as he took the note and instantly noticed the drawn symbols on the bottom. When he snapped his head back up to look at Sam his mouth fell open and he said in shock, awe, and disbelief "No. No way. Them? But I thought-"
"Gonna stop you right there Tucker. Remember what Dani told us last month? About that new under the radar teen hero group?" Sam cut in.
"OOoooh. Them.... Yeah I can totally get behind asking them over asking the adults." Tucker responded, his mind coming up with a plan as the sticky note words played into his head 'Use your strengths'
"Good we have no time to loose. I'll contact Dani to find out where we can find their base, you get ready to hack and find what you can so I can use it to help... persuade them into helping us."
-x-x-
Young Justice was having a normal, well as normal as a bunch of super-powered and very well trained teens could have day.
Or at least it was until their comms and entire system were hacked by an unknown hacker, a goth girl appearing on their main sceen and her saying this
"Hey, Young Justice right? Look I'll be blunt about this. We need help, our best friend and his family got taken by some shady government jerks that wanna experiment on him and we need to save them. It's a long story. However, we do not like the JL too much and don't trust them, we have our reasons, so to make sure you don't go crying to them, we're taking your systems hostage and blackmailing you with things our hacker found out." Her eyes narrowed at them, her face in a scowl and it left no room for negotiations at all, she was determined to get things her way "So that's the deal. Help us save our best friend and his family while not letting the JL know, and we let go of your systems and forget about what we found out."
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merakiui · 1 day
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feel free to delete if this is perhaps too raunchy of an ask!! but how do u think the twst guys masturbate? do they use their hands, fleshlights/onaholes? are they loud or quiet? do they rely on their imagination or sexual material? etc etc lolol
I'm sorry that this is a bit of a sleazy question, but it has been pestering me ^^;;
Nothing is ever too sleazy when it comes to smut. <3 this ask gave me so many thoughts,,,
✧ Riddle only ever masturbates when it's absolutely necessary (i.e. he needs to de-stress and relax or it's a poorly timed erection that won't go away and he's too impatient to wait it out). Sometimes his mind wanders when he's studying. He doesn't mean for it to, but he often thinks back on the day's events when he's settling down for the evening and suddenly you pop into his mind and his brain is working overtime...... orz he uses his hand and lotion/lube and gets off to lewd thoughts in his imagination. It gets the job done. I like to imagine he's eerily quiet because he fears someone might hear him. That, and he probably learned how to do everything quietly after living so many years under his mother's roof. >_< he's biting his lip or stuffing his tie in his mouth to muffle any sounds that may slip out.
✧ Trey does it when he feels like it. All he really needs is his hand and some lotion and he's good. Sometimes he doesn't even use lotion; it really depends. I like to think Trey watches hardcore porn even though he seems like he may be into soft, sweet vanilla things on the surface. Definitely enjoys food play porn. Cater probably gifted him an onahole, and Trey uses it and imagines it's you. Does the trick every time. :) he's quiet, save for the few occasional grunts and groans.
✧ Cater absolutely watches porn. He scrolls through his favorite swimsuit models' Magicam accounts while he's moving his hand up and down along his dick. <3 sometimes he browses the selection of sex toys on his favorite online erotic stores. Although I also think he has a folder full of pictures of you and he looks through those when he's masturbating. You could be fully clothed and yet he's imagining cumming all over that cute, smiling face... depending on the day and how horny he is, he can be either loud or quiet while he's masturbating.
✧ Ace,,,, I want to preface this by saying he absolutely has a cum sock. T_T and you know he'll never tell you which one it is, so never ask to borrow socks from him for whatever reason. Sure, he washes it, but do you really want to use a sock that has been wrapped around his dick more than once in the past? ;;;;; Ace definitely watches porn. He masturbates a lot. Typical horny guy who has sex on his mind often. He's not very loud, but then he's also not very quiet either. He tends to lose himself in the sensations.
✧ Deuce tries not to masturbate all the time, but he can't help it. It's the same situation as Ace: he's a horny guy who gets worked up over the smallest things. A breeze could probably get him hard. </3 you don't know this, but the majority of his hard-ons are the result of you. He thinks of you all the time... things you say and do make him feel so hot. He uses his hand. It's impossible to use any toys in a dorm with three other roommates, and his hand makes things easy and simple. He tries to be quiet (he really does), but he grunts and breathes heavy a lot. >_<
✧ Leona's too lazy to search for porn that'll get him off, so he just sits back, shuts his eyes, and fucks into his hand at the thought of you. Ideally, it'd be much better if you were here and he could sink himself into your tight heat. Leona's a mess when he's in rut. He always tells you to keep away if you know what's good for you because even he's not sure he'd be able to restrain himself if you came into his room smelling so sweet while he's in rut. He's not very loud. Soft groans, maybe a growl here and there, but for the most part he's quiet.
✧ Ruggie does it more often than one might think. It's hard work running errands for Leona. He's got to get some stress-relief in somehow! He doesn't use anything fancy. Just his hand and some porn will do. Most of the time, though, he thinks of you. It's a little embarrassing how hard and needy he gets when he's fantasizing about you. <3 lots of whimpering and soft groans...
✧ Jack does it when he feels like it or when it's absolutely necessary. I feel like Jack often represses his horny thoughts by exercising and working out, so he doesn't masturbate often. The usual hand and lotion combination. It's bad when he's in rut, though. No logical thoughts in his brain. Just the ever-present desire to fuck and mate and breed.
✧ Azul......... my beloved darling. <3 he bought an onahole at the suggestion of a certain blue-haired board game club member and it was over for him. orz I think Azul whines a lot. He's panting like he's in heat. He gets so wrapped up in his fantasies. I don't think he's an avid porn watcher, but then this is because he's picky and has very specific tastes (it's you. you're the specific tastes). In merform, he uses one of those full body onaholes and pretends it's you. One tentacle wrapped around the silicone waist and bouncing it on his hectocotylus. He's definitely broken more than one sex toy LOL. Accidentally filled one of his onaholes with eggs and was so frustrated that it wasn't you. :(
✧ Jade is a menace (part one) because he's a Shameless Freak who is too curious for his own good. Instead of a cum sock, he probably has a jar. He makes it a fun game to see how much he can fill within a certain amount of time lol. Jade's sex fantasies are CRAZY. Sometimes he gets off to porn; sometimes his thoughts are enough to have him cumming into a tissue or his hand (or the jar). He's definitely more quiet than he is loud. In merform, anything goes. Jade's gotten great practice fingering his slit, so he'll use this expertise on you when the two of you finally fuck.
✧ Floyd is a menace (part two) because he does it all. Uses spit, lube, lotion, blood????? It doesn't matter how clean or viable it is; he wants to try it. He's messy with it. Probably has a cum sock as well. Human sex toys are so fascinating to him, so he's willing to sample it all. Whatever catches his interest, really. Most days if he's feeling something quick he'll just use his hand and look at things on his phone. Definitely has vocal range when he's masturbating. Some days he's loud and other days he's quiet. Like the above, Floyd's also down to do anything and everything in merform. You should 100% eat him out when he's in merform. Quickest way to have the eel wrapped around you (literally and figuratively).
✧ Kalim does it whenever he feels like it! He's also curious and wants to try all manner of things. He used an onahole once and was hooked. It's just so great. <3 he's even named it after you. T_T I think Kalim's louder than most when he really gets into it, but other than that he can be quiet sometimes. Not always, though. He throws his head back and gasps a lot when he's on the verge of cumming, eyes squeezed shut as he succumbs.
✧ Jamil does it when he has time. </3 his schedule tends to get busy when he's looking after Kalim, balancing his own life, studying, club stuff....... I like to imagine Jamil gets horny so easily and quite often, but he's the repressed type of horny because he never has enough time for himself!!! When he does masturbate, it's usually just with his hand. He hardly makes any noise, save for the occasional groan or pleasured hum.
✧ Vil does it whenever he's in the mood. It's healthy for the mind and body to masturbate every now and then, so it's not like he's against a little self-care time. <3 he probably sets aside time for it on the days when he knows he'll need some stress relief. Sometimes these things can't be planned for, so a little spontaneity is okay. I feel like Vil doesn't get too complicated with it (that's saved for when he's with you hehe), so he probably just uses his hand. If he's using any sort of toys, he makes sure the material is safe and won't hurt him or his skin. He's also very picky when it comes to toys and other products like lube and lotion. Most days his hand is enough. I think he's the type to gasp. Maybe a low moan here and there. In any case, all of his sounds always sound so beautifully debauched.
✧ Rook......... it goes without saying he does it whenever he wants and can get off to anything and everything. orz especially candid pictures of you!!!! I think he's also a type who is willing to try all kinds of things. He prefers the sensuality of skin to skin contact, so he's more than fine with using just his hand. "As nature intended," he'll probably say. T_T Rook is a hunter who is always so eerily quiet and stealthy. I like to think it's much the same when he's masturbating. Mostly quiet, save for the occasional sound every now and then.
✧ Epel also falls into the category of Ace and Deuce. He's a little sex-brained sometimes. >_< but can you blame him? There was hardly anyone else in Harveston his age and now he's at NRC and you're there and he's just,,,, down horrendous. I feel like he tries so hard to sound "manly" or more mature, but the truth is that he whimpers and whines like he's in heat when he gets really into it. Mainly uses his hand, but I think he'd be curious and buy an onahole for himself.
✧ Idia.......... T_T this one is already self-explanatory, but he's using his hand, lube/lotion, an onahole based on his favorite anime girl, etc. He watches hentai and reads r18 doujinshi of his favorite series. He's probably one of the few twst characters who does it so frequently. Lots of pent-up horny. OTL if you're chatting with him online, he jerks off to your messages. He keeps clips of your voice from the times you VC in Magicord and he replays them while he's fucking the onahole like he intends to knock it up. ^^;;; I think he whines a lot, but then maybe he's good at being mostly quiet when he's masturbating. Either way, he's left breathless every time.
✧ Malleus didn't even know pornographic imagery and videos on cellphones existed, so his idea of porn is probably a tasteful nude painting. Imagine the Renaissance nudes, but Malleus's probably commissioned someone to paint you like that. He's so sexually awkward, so an exposed ankle or shoulder or even an outfit that looks so wonderful on you could get him worked up. ;;;;;; he probably uses his hand, but sometimes he ruts into his pillows/sheets. orz he groans a lot. He definitely visits you post-masturbation and greets you as if he wasn't just picturing you beneath him, writhing and sobbing in pleasure. Post-nut clarity for Malleus is just him realizing you'd be much better than his hand or bedsheets.
✧ Lilia uses and does it all. He loves experimenting. He's always curious and willing to try everything once. At this point the question is: what hasn't he done? Sometimes he's quiet and sometimes he's loud. Sometimes he watches hentai (as per his online friend's recommendations) and sometimes he uses his imagination. He's always finding ways to try new things. Although lately he's enjoyed using your mouth. <3
✧ Silver does it when he's feeling up for it. I imagine he doesn't get horny very often, but when he does......... 👀 he just uses his hand and nothing else, but I'm sure he's heard from others how good certain things are. Silver's so genuinely honest, so I feel like he'd want to know if there's any merit to an onahole versus an actual hole (your hole). Something to try in the future perhaps... I think he can be quiet, but then I also imagine he groans softly a lot!!!
✧ Sebek....... he tries not to, but the horny always catches up to him. He does it more often than you'd think, but he refuses to use anything other than his hand. He's stubborn! Definitely makes a lot of noise and he doesn't even realize it.
✧ Rollo didn't do it much (only when it was a necessity), but after meeting you that changes. He goes from going weeks without touching himself to doing it nearly every other day. You make him feel so insatiably horny. He usually just relies on his imagination, but sometimes I like to picture him reading erotic literature. >:D he definitely relies on his hand and lotion/lube, and he's also another one who is scarily quiet.
✧ Neige does it fairly often! He likes using his hand, but then he also likes using an onahole. He's so obsessed with you to the point where I think you'd be the only thing that can get him properly worked up. He cums to thoughts of you, to pictures of you, to the sound of your voice, to the smell of you, to your clothes... he's so cute,,, definitely the type to whine and be noisy if he's really feeling good.
✧ Che'nya also does it often! He's a curious cat, so he'll want to try all kinds of things. He does it all. His ability to turn invisible makes him great for watching you during private times or secretly groping you in a crowded place and you're completely unaware of his presence hehe. He's also got a vocal range, and it really depends. Sometimes he can be so quiet, and other times he's so loud you think he's in heat.
✧ Fellow....... tell me you can see the vision: room dimly lit by candlelight or something and Fellow's leaning back against the headboard of his bed and he's slowly running his hand along the length of his lubed up cock. Slow and steady, dragging it out, edging himself to thoughts of you! >:D I feel like this is one of his favorite ways to masturbate. He has time. <3 why rush? He's not as loud as you may think. When he's alone, he probably gasps and groans a lot. The type to squeeze his eyes shut and bow his head when he's on the verge of cumming.
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