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thepenultimateword · 3 days

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Your stuff is so good!! You should write a villain x weapon designer civilian snippet :0

Thank you, thank you, friend! Also, I’m loving the idea of that dynamic, so here you go!

CW: Weapons, unconsciousness, knockout gas

...

“Move and I’ll blow your head off.”

The ridges on the gun's metal barrel dug sharply into Civilian's hand, but they managed to keep their aim and voice steady as they pointed both at the villain in front of them. The criminal was currently backed up against the train doors, hands in the air, gas mask dangling nonchalantly off two fingers.

The villain raised their brow. "What are you some sort of hero?"

"No talking."

"I've never seen you before. I thought I'd met all of the agency's sentinals in white. Though you're not exactly dressed for the position. Maybe you're not--"

"I said no talking!" Civilian barked, taking a step forward and jerking the gun forward menacingly.

"Ok! Ok!" Villain said. They raised their hands higher. “Touch-y.”

On any other day, Civilian would have been like the other passengers, huddled up together in the far corners of the train or pressed back tight in their seats, as if they could disappear by mere force of will. But today, Civilian had been tasked with transporting their newest prototype to the agency for a demonstration. An electro-pulse gun that they’d tested on no less than five watermelons the night before. They were well acquainted with the damage it could do. They’d ripped the thing from its protective case without even thinking.

“I’ve already alerted the heroes to your location,” Civilian said. “So there’s no point in fighting anymore. Stay still until the next station and you’ll be arrested in one piece.”

“You alerted the heroes?” The villain raised both brows high. “How? I jammed the cell signals over the next twenty miles. Unless…” They grinned. “You have some other form of contact. You do work for the agency, don’t you?”

“Have you listened to a thing I've said? No more questions!"

“You’re the one who keeps chatting, darling. What? Nervous?”

Yes. And no. Their body was alight with adrenaline, every nerve a buzzing, quivering charge, and yet at the same time, they were surreally confident, gut numb and mind blank.

Villain pushed lightly off the doors with their elbows, taking a small, probing step forward. “Would you even really shoot?”

“You really want to try me?"

“You heroes make a lot of talk but not much action. What, don’t you have a code? 'Do no harm' or something like that? Besides, you're so cute." Another step forward. "I don't think you've ever been in a fight, let alone killed someone, so why don't you just--"

Civilian aimed the gun at the ceiling and squeezed the trigger. The energy projectile punched through the metal with ear-splitting BANG! The passengers shrieked. Villain knocked back against the doors with a thud.

The wind whistled loudly overhead as the air whooshed over the new gap in the roof, and after that shot, their ears might as well have been stuffed full of cotton, but even if they couldn't quite measure their own volume, they fixed the gun back on Villain's head and drove their point home.

“I’m really trying not to traumatize all these lovely people with the visual of your head exploding, and honestly, I’d really rather not kill you. But if you press me…if you doubt me, you’ll be dead faster than you can question me again.”

Villain gripped their mask abit tighter but their expression remained smooth and their posture loose. They whistled a long low note. “You’re something else, gunslinger. When this is all over, feel free to look me up anytime.”

“Fortunately, I don’t frequent prisons.”

“Me neither." Villain flashed a broader grin, full of white teeth and pocked with a dimple on one side. "Looks like we have something in common.”

The train screeched, the deceleration sending everyone lurching a bit to the right. In that exact moment, when Civilian's gun swayed a few centimeters off target, the villain's free hand shot to their belt.

"Hey!" Civilian shouted, stumbling a little as the train came to a complete stop. Villain tossed something small and round to the floor. Ping! Ping! It bounced twice, rolled a little into the aisle, and exploded in a cloud of cool fog. No not fog. Gas.

Civilian immediately turned their face into their shoulder, tipping the gun even further off target. The whole train car shrieked while Villain calmly pulled the gas mask over their head, obscuring the beginnings of an infuriating grin. Civilian opened their mouth to launch another threat but immediately choked on the sickly sweet gas. It raised around them so rapidly, they could barely see the nose of the weapon let alone, Villain. Not to mention...everything was getting sorta...slanty...

"S-sleepin'gas?" they slurred.

"I was never here to harm any of you." Villain's muffled voice seemed to come from all directions, echoey and distorted.

Civilian fell to one knee. Was it normal to feel like their head was buzzing?

"You made a really cute gunslinger, though. Like a western sheriff. Or an outlaw. Bet you'd be good in a holdup."

The train doors hissed as they opened. As some of the gas slipped free, they caught a glimpse of the Villain's shoulder as they darted out onto the platform.

The gun suddenly felt so heavy in their arms but they forced it up anyway. The barrel tipped to and fro, and their finger trembled on the trigger. They wanted to risk a blind shot, but there could be dozens of people standing outside on that platform. If they hit anyone else...

Their vision blurred, then blackened. They barely managed to set the gun down on the metal floor before passing out over top of it.

When they awoke, they were in the agency medical wing. They recognized it immediately by its obnoxious orange bedsheets and, well, Keith. Sort of hard to miss a giant, shining man in hero-white scrubs.

Civilian slowly pushed themselves upright. Their head throbbed with the movement, and they let out a rogue groan.

Keith turned away from the figure two beds down, covered from head to toe in bruises and now enveloped in their own cocoon of white luminescence.

"Civilian!" Keith beamed, light glimmering off his teeth. "You've regained consciousness! Any pain?"

Civilian rubbed the bridge of their nose. "Just my head... Was I hurt?"

"Not necessarily." Keith pressed both large hands to the sides of Civilian's skull. Civilian closed their eyes as they healer's glow wrapped around their head. Warmth trickled over their face and under their skin, ebbing the pain away little by little. "Just a very large dose of some sort of gaseous anesthesia. Luckily, there have been no long-term consequences so far. The ventilation created by the hole in the roof probably lessened some of the potency. Your handiwork?"

The events on the train rushed back all at once. They pulled out of Keith's grasp.

"Did we get them?" They looked rapidly around their bedside. "Where's my pulse gun?"

Keith stepped back and leaned against the empty bed beside Civilian's. "The gun is in weapons testing, I think."

"And the villain?"

"No. They escaped. We arrived just moments too late before they must have blended with the crowd.

Civlian threw themself back against their pillows with a heavy sigh. "Great."

"You still helped. You stopped Villain from completing whatever they originally planned and provided many citizens with immediate medical treatment by calling us in."

"Oh yeeeeah, I'm sure the whole team was just dazzled by my competence and quick-thinking. Especially when I couldn't hold Villain in place on anything but a moving train."

Keith frowned. "You don't need the title to be a hero."

"Thanks, Keith, that's really nice and heartfelt, and I'm sure you believe it, but seeing how you do have the title, and no one in power here thinks the same, it doesn't really mean that much to me."

Keith frowned but luckily didn't argue any further. Civilian knew they were being rude, but they really didn't need anyone else telling them that they were special the way they were. That they could do good their own way. That being a hero didn't even matter that much. It mattered a whole lot to them. And now they'd practically proven the entire agency right.

"What were they even doing on that train?"

"Robbery?" Keith shrugged. "Knock out the passengers and loot all their valuables."

"Alone?" Civilian traced the lines of the ceiling panels with their eyes. "They didn't even have a bag. How much could they have gathered if they planned on knocking out an entire train?"

"We don't know they were alone. They could have easily had accomplices posing as civilians throughout the train."

"True... Does the agency have a file on them? Tall, skinny, long black coat, annoyingly perfect eyebrows. Didn't show a power."

"I could look...but I'm not supposed to share that sort of info outside of other heroes..."

"Come on! What was that whole, 'you don't need a title' nonsense?"

"It wasn't nonsense! You are a hero! Just...not a legally sanctioned one."

Civilian sat back up and lowered their voice. "Come on, Keith. I'm not going to do anything; I'm just curious. You don't even have to give me the whole file. Just take a couple pictures of anything you think might also be on the news."

Keith grimaced.

"Please? I was so close today. So close to being what I always planned to be... Just let me chase that high a little longer. Then I'll go back to the weapons lab and never mention it again. Promise."

Keith inhaled a long breath, letting it out in a loud, irritated sigh. "Ok, fine. But don't bring it up to anyone. Ever. And I'm only giving you the first page."

Civilian's insides sank a little; they weren't sure what a first page of a villain file looked like, but they could assume it wasn't much. But they couldn't really be picky, so... "That's fine. Just the first page is perfect."

Keith looked like they had hoped that detail would deter them, but he continued on. "It might take awhile. I'm a hero, but I'm a healer, so no one is expecting me to march into the files room and request info on villains."

"That's ok, I can be patient. I work in weapons, remember? That's like the ultimate test in being patient."

Keith slid a hand over his face. "Ok. I'm also going to need more detail than 'annoyingly perfect eyebrows.'"

#hero x villain #heroes and villains #creative writing #writing snippet #villain x civilian #writblr #snippet #villain #weapons maker #Also keith was the first name to come to mind #and i thought it was sort of funny for a scene transition #but I was stil thinking of hoodwinked the whole time #“oh watch out for keith”

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eriexplosion · 2 days

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Okay so. I cannot take it seriously when people say that we weren't led to think CX-2 was Tech. Because no we were not just having foreshadowing of the creation of an Evil Bad Batch. The clues led directly to Tech.

We have to start with the fact that they didn't kill him off definitively. Start with his survival being debated (and there's no way they didn't know it would be debated because I choose to believe they are not stupid) then introduce a character that lasts suspiciously long and has weirdly intense beef with Crosshair and you already are inclining people towards believing this is Tech.

CX-2 goes through a speedrun of Tech scenarios with 1. the leg crushed by a heavy falling object, similar to Ruins of War 2. knocked over by an explosion leaving him dangling above the abyss from a line like Plan 99 3. going over a waterfall and crawling out in a shot that completely matches the scene from The Crossing.

One or two of these is a coincidence, all three together less so.

Plan 99 notes mixed into The Battle of the Snipers. Which the Kiners only explained as the notes 'sounding good in brass' and nothing else.

He gets distinctly Tech like dialogue and no I don't just mean 'domicile' though we do have to acknowledge that no one else in Star Wars uses this word on the regular. We also have the exact match of 'Who are you' to Decomissioned, and the matching of 'I have simply cut off her means of escape' to Tech regularly saying 'I am simply-' when explaining himself, which again is something no one else in the show shares. Tech has a distinct way of speaking that matches CX-2, especially as of Point of No Return. (And CX-2 doesn't really sound like Crosshair, because Crosshair is just straight up not as chatty as CX-2 and never has been.)

He gets a long, unnecessary scene with Phee where he suddenly forgets how to be a murder assassin and starts playing soft.

He doesn't shoot Hunter when he has a chance and chooses to instead shoot his own man, he doesn't blow up the Marauder while Wrecker is inside, and when Omega surrenders he opts to just wait for her to hand him her communicator. He doesn't even shoot Shep when Shep starts talking back to him, all of which indicated that maybe for whatever reason he didn't want to, bolstering the Tech theories.

Getting into an opinion rather than analysis here but: Evil Bad Batch is a stupid fucking idea, it serves no purpose whatsoever other than a cool boss fight that adds nothing to the story. Having a CX be someone, anyone they actually cared about would have been interesting and actually played into the themes of family and forgiveness that were set up earlier in the season. Instead it's just more people to kill off to zero interesting payoff. It's stupid.

Every person I spoke to offline thought that this was Tech. All of them. People that have never looked on social media, watched a theory video, anything. All thought CX-2 was Tech and were confused when he was speared. This was not terminally online theorizing gone wild, this was a very widespread thought and assumption.

So, if they didn't mean to do any of that and at no point intended to imply this was Tech and were solely trying to foreshadow their 5 minutes of Evil Batch fight? They did it poorly. When the majority of your audience actively believes you are leading to one direction only for it to be some other direction that you meant to lead them to, the problem is not The Audience Didn't Read It Right, the problem is you wrote it badly.

#the bad batch #fandom salt #you can't just shove everything onto the audience like the audience is just watching TV wrong #that's what they set up whether they intended to or not #but frankly given Everything I have a hard time believing they didn't intend to set this up

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 1 day

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Not My Boyfriend : Teaser

Word Count : 0.7k

Warnings : drinking, swearing, mention of heartbreak, jealousy, arguing

A/N : I don't have an official release date for this story yet, but I wanted to get a teaser out for you. I want to finish Changbin's story before I start on this one, so hopefully the epilogue will be out soon and I can start this one! I'm really excited to share what I've been working on. Hope you enjoy!

“Cheers to you!” She clinked glasses with Hongjoong, a smile spreading across her face as the two of them downed their respective shots. “I really am proud of you. You’ve been working so hard for this.” She placed a hand on his arm, giving him a sincere look so he knew she was serious.

“Thank you, Y/n. I wouldn’t have been able to do it if it wasn’t for you, though.” She cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow at him, urging him to go on, tell him how she helped. He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “You really don’t know?”

“How am I supposed to know, Kim Hongjoong?” She questioned, bringing her face closer to his. Hongjoong chuckled again, pushing her face away from his. “Tell me.” She pouted. And he knew he was going to tell her everything the second he saw it. As if her pout was a superpower. Drawing out any and all secrets you’ve kept hidden.

“The theme for this exhibit was love and heartbreak.” He started slowly. Realization hit her and she took a step back. His name fell from her lips and he shook his head. “Y/n, I loved you in high school. Idiot.”

“Oh.” She giggled.

“And in the first year of university. But you met Minho and I moved on.” Hongjoong added with a laugh, taking a sip of his drink. “I like someone else now, but I the idea of a first love and the feeling of letting that go, I knew it would be a success.”

“So what you’re saying is I should get half the profits.” Y/n teased.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” Y/n said as she linked their arms, smiling over at Hongjoong. He smiled back at her, sliding her drink farther from her, telling her she’s had enough. “Look at you caring about me. How did I never notice?”

“This is me being a friend. But you’re oblivious. You’ll never realize when someone likes you, no matter how obvious they make it.”

Minho saw them from afar when he burst into the bar. Watched for a minute as they laughed and got too close for his liking. The way she was far too comfortable with him, a man that wasn’t him.

He started walking towards them, fire in his veins, only seeing red. Hongjoong saw him first, and turned to whisper something to Y/n. She turned, and when their eyes met, it was like the world stopped. His anger melted and all that was left was jealousy. “Minho?” She seemed confused. Of course she would be. This was supposed to be her night out with her friend. But why didn’t she tell him the friend would be a guy?

“Time to go home.” He said simply, grabbing her hand and dragging her out of the bar. She said goodbye to Hongjoong as she was dragged away. Part of her was angry that he would come and pull her away from her friend. But another part was swooning. Hopeful that her feelings weren’t one sided. But she stopped herself from feeling anything but anger. Stopped herself from feeling hopeful that they could be anything more than what they are.

“Okay can you tell me what the fuck that was?” She asked, pulling her hand away, and crossing her arms over her chest. Minho turned around to face her, his anger and jealousy obvious.

“When you said you were grabbing drinks with a friend I thought you meant a girl. Who the fuck even is that guy hmm?” She scoffed.

“Hongjoong. You know him. We went to university together.” The name sounded familiar to Minho. One of the many guys that hung around her. One of the many guys that had feelings for her. Minho would know because he was one of them too.

“That still doesn’t explain why you told me you were grabbing drinks with a friend after work instead of just telling me it was Hongjoong.” Minho countered. “If you two are really just friends, there would be no reason to hide that.”

“Oh my god Minho. You’re not my boyfriend! It doesn’t matter who I grab drinks with. Who my friends are. Who I spend the day texting. You. Are. Not. My. Boyfriend.”

“Well if you would pick up on my damn hints, I fucking would be!”

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ao3sbatfamily · 2 days

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Hey do you have any recs for fics where the batfamily does something that absolutely should not be possible and everyone is like wtf?

I feel like in most of the JLA meet batfam fics, the JLA focuses more on batman have kids and less on the fact that they usually did some terrifying shit. I went with cryptid batfam.

This was made into a series, so make sure to check out the sequels.

'Growling in the Shadows' by GayBatBoi

It was Martian Manhunter who interrupted his thoughts this time. “I have not met many humans who have met this Batman, but the ones I have talked to did not broadcast fear when thinking of him. In fact they seemed to feel more hopeful and safe when talking about The Batman.

“I don’t know, this just seems like a bad idea. Isn’t there anyone else we could try first?” Clark whined. He couldn’t exactly just say ‘I don’t want to go because I’m scared’. The others would never let him live it down.

“We all know that there are precious few heroes we can ask to join us, Clark. We must ensure that the hero we ask is as strong as possible to make up for our small amount of warriors.” Diana chimed in again, always the voice of reason. “A few strong teammates is far superior to many weak ones.”

“I’m still not convinced this Batman character is a good guy at all.“ He pouted, arms crossed like a child throwing a tantrum. He didn’t care. If Clark had to Gotham he could at least sulk about it a bit first.

“We could always offer him the position as a trial run. If he’s a good guy then we recruit him full time. If he’s a villain then at least we can keep a close eye on him and take care of it if we need to” Green Arrow took Flash and Diana’s side.

“I think it’s worth a shot. It is not as if there are many heroes to choose from and this Batman may surprise us yet.” Wonder Woman smiled.

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graciereadshannigram · 14 hours

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this idea for a fic has been kicking around my brain and refusing to let me rest so here's my attempt at getting it out so the bees can leave me alone.

Will's voice was a weapon, sharp and commanding as it sliced through the air. Stop right there," he said, his gaze intense as he pinned Hannibal with a look that brooked no argument. "Don’t lie to me."

He watched closely, almost hungrily, as Hannibal’s mask of composure slipped. It was a mere moment, a flicker of something hungry and unguarded that danced across the psychiatrist's face as his meticulous person suit slipped just an inch. The dilation of Hannibal's pupils, a tightness around his jaw—subtle, yet unmistakably a reaction.

"Oh, you like that?" Will’s words slipped out, almost without permission, tinted with a darker, more dangerous curiosity. He savored the slight falter in Hannibal’s stance, the way his usual poised demeanor wavered under scrutiny.

Hannibal attempted to regain control, his voice smooth but slightly strained. "Will, I think you misread—"

"No, I don’t think I did." Will stepped closer, once again denying Hannibal his obfuscations and cutting off the distance, his words a clear no to any form of retreat. "And I just told you not to lie."

The reaction was immediate. Hannibal swallowed, his gaze flitting across Will's face, perhaps seeking either escape or permission. "You’ve always had an effect on me, Will. I admire everything you do, as long as it’s true to your nature."

Feeling a surge of power at the raw honesty, Will took another deliberate step, reducing the space to just a breath away. His voice was softer now, a menacing whisper, "Even if it’s in my nature to control you?"

He watched the visible shudder that ran through Hannibal, the breath that hitched a bit too loudly. It was exhilarating, this visible sign of Hannibal’s composure crumbling, an acknowledgment of the dynamic that Will had always suspected existed between them but had never dared to explore.

"I didn’t mean to seduce you so soon, but I can make it work," Will mused, leaning in closer, forcing Hannibal back against the wall. He could now see, unmistakably, the arousal in Hannibal’s eyes, the quickening of his breath. It was intoxicating, the power, the control, the undeniable rush of answering arousal that coursed through him, knowing he had Hannibal right there, on the edge.

Hannibal looked back at him, his expression a mix of shock and that darker, deeper allure they seldom spoke of. "Will—"

"Tell me about the betrayal, Hannibal," Will cut in, his tone steady, one hand coming to rest against the wall by Hannibal's temple. He needed to hear it, needed to understand, even as he navigated this charged, dangerous game they were playing. "Why did you do it? Why manipulate me–and everybody else–so thoroughly and think there would be no repercussions?"

Hannibal’s voice, when he finally spoke, was calm but thick with an emotion Will couldn’t quite place. "I wanted to see you liberated, Will. Free from the constraints you so blindly follow."

"And yet, here we are," Will shot back, his voice soft but deadly, other hand coming up to fully surround Hannibal with his body. "You’re the one constrained. Does it feel liberating?"

Hannibal’s response was to close the gap completely, pulling Will in so their bodies were flush from hip to chest. "Quid pro quo, Will. I have laid bare my truths. Now show me yours."

The direct challenge ignited something fierce within Will. He met Hannibal’s gaze, his smirk widening. "If my truth involves dominating you, Hannibal, would you accept that as part of my nature?"

A faint smile touched Hannibal’s lips as his composure began to rebuild. "I find my defenses quite...receptive to your advances."

"Good," Will breathed out, a curl of satisfaction unfurling within him. This was just the beginning, a new dynamic unfurling, and he was eager to see where it would lead. "Because I’m just getting started."

#god i can already tell this is liable to turn into a full length fic HELP #i'm horrified that i might actually have to come up with plot #please please please be kind #hannibal #hannigram #hannigram fic #will graham #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #nbc hannibal #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #hannigram fanfiction #dom will graham #sub hannibal lecter #because obviously #gracie writes hannigram

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sapphicvalentines · 1 day

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☆Baby,the stars shine bright☆ pt4

pt1 , pt2 , pt3

inspired by the 'kamikaze girls',♡ always had unconditional love for lolita fashion and nothing else but when she met ellie,an auburn haired girl whos part of a gang with a dad's fashion sense ,her love for clothes begins to compete with her growing feelings for ellie

strangers to friends to lovers,love-hate friendship,ellie is into reader♡ but reader♡ shows no interest (in the beginning),opposite aesthetics,early 2000s

wlw,fluff

wc:5k

warnings: none except violence

On a rainy Friday night, when a storm was raging, you were more worried about your father than yourself, even as the whole house shook violently.

He finally came back home, soaked clothes clinging to him, and bruises marking his face.

You felt relieved that he still had all four fingers, after his gang had taken one for letting an enemy escape.

As tears streamed down his face, you quickly wiped them away as he sat before you.

It was clear to you, even then, that you would never choose the same path as your father.

"I'm not interested" you responded to ellie standing in front of you.

The way you beat up the man who stole your purse surprised Ellie, but the fact that you stood up for yourself and didn't ask her to make him pay got her even more interested. It felt like a waste not to have you in Dina's gang, but she still respected your decision; she knew she couldn't force you into criminality.

Also, who the hell would fight in a frilly dress?

Ellie understood that you had your own reasons (she thought you couldn't bear wearing anything other than Lolita dresses).

You couldnt perfectly hear the low whispers from Ellie's friends, but you guessed they wondered why Ellie was asking you to join the gang.

Ellie turned to them and introduced you, saying, "she sells really cool stuff,i got a new jacket for Himeko."

The gangsters shot you a more appreciative glance before talking with Ellie. She explained the whole thing about your stolen purse to them while you were just standing there like this 🧍‍♀️.

After a while, Ellie turned her attention back to you, telling you she has to go do what she usually does while out with her gang.

The girls' motorcycles roared once again, with Ellie sitting behind one of her friends since she had left hers at home. They respectfully said 'goodbye' and left, disappearing into the dust.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about the idea of Ellie finding out you had sold her fake brand clothes. If she ever told her whole gang, they would certainly not spare you any trouble and might even do worse than chopping off your fingers...

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

The next day, you were met with peace, but you also had mixed feelings.

You hadn't seen Ellie all day, but out of sight didn't mean out of mind.

Every time you'd do anything, it felt like you were trying to distract yourself from thinking of her.

You kept thinking about how she was willing to help you catch the thief and find your purse, how she tried to lift your spirits up no matter how tired you were, and how proud and impressed she was when you made the thief pay.

It was cloudy that day, but her smile was outshining the sun.

The 200 bucks she helped you get weren't used to buy a new purse; you looked at it and put it in your wallet. Instead of saving up, you thought about giving it to Ellie as a sign of gratitude.

After all, you would probably still be waiting for the police to find your purse if Ellie hadn't been here for you.

Ellie also gave you her phone number,

'just in case you need my help.'

You saved it in your contacts; in fact, she was the only person you've ever had in there.

As you were thinking about texting her, you were also contemplating your emotions.

Bitter, but also sweet; you've never felt lonely before meeting Ellie.

Perhaps it was because you spent such a great time with her that you finally acknowledged a hole you didn't even know was there in the first place.

A hole that was created when you made the mistake of getting attached to people who weren't worthy of your love.

You only realize it now that she's gone, that it actually felt pleasant being around her.

You closed your glittering flip phone, making a 'clap' sound as you sighed. You were comfortable being alone but uncomfortable feeling lonely.

"she's probably having fun with her friends," you thought. So instead of texting her, you tried to distance yourself.

And it started with getting rid of your thoughts about her. So you cleaned your room, baked with your grandma, had tea time, listened to classical music as you sewed a brand new headband, and tried on different outfits for the next time you go out. However, you were spending more time trying to distract yourself than actually enjoying yourself.

You fell into a restless sleep after this long, tiring day, still with the feeling you failed to make go away.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

One, then two, then three rocks were thrown at your window. You were already awake, lying on your bed, but too lazy to start changing.

Or just start this day, in general.

Then another rock hit your window. The rocks were too small to break the glass, but you still wondered why this person kept persisting at getting your attention.

Although you already had your own idea of who that person was.

After slipping out of the covers, you walked towards your windows and opened them, pushing out the curtains, letting the morning sun enter your bedroom.

You weren't surprised to see her once again.

Ellie looked up at you with a faint smile and waved at you without saying a word.

You had no idea why she showed up in front of your house, but the reason was probably not as important as buying your fake luxury clothes.

After a moment of silence, you started to close the windows, making the auburn-haired girl scream to stop.

That was not so discreet of her.

"i'm just going to change, I'll be right back," you reassured her before closing the windows and putting on the curtains.

About 15 minutes passed by before you showed up in front of Ellie. You didn't wear something extravagant, unlike other days, just a simple baby pink and white dress matching with your old-school lolita bonnet.

To Ellie, you took a lot of time to dress up just to put on a simple outfit. "you know, that's kinda rude", Ellie referred to you closing the windows when you saw her.

"I was going to sleep in, but you interrupted me".You didn't only close them for changing, but mostly to annoy her. Her reactions were so funny.

"sleeping that much is bad for your health though",Ellie replied, looking at your face. You looked like you had enough beauty sleep, unlike her and her eye bags.

On the other hand, you didn't mind her eye bags; they looked cute. But the cute freckles adorning her face were adorable.

"what do you know about health? you smoke", you retorted. It was enough to make her face instantly turn as red as a tomato. She was thinking of a violent comeback but couldn't reply. "anyways, why didn't you just knock at the front door like a decent human?"

"your grandma's there"ellie pointed at your front door where your grandma was. You suddenly remembered when your grandma was trying to tear her ear off; it was hilarious now that you think about it.

"oh yeah, I forgot, she's guarding the house from people like you",you said, holding back your laugh. But Ellie wasn't pleased by the slight insult/teasing. You didn't forget when she revealed she stalked your dad though.

"hey, who gives you money? you better watch your mouth," Ellie said, half-jokingly, but you still enjoyed teasing her; it was like a guilty pleasure.

You wanted to ask her why she hadn't come to see you at all yesterday, but Ellie suddenly grabbed your arm, remembering why she came here in the first place. "come with me, I wanna show you something."

Her touch was as warm as the weather. You couldn't explain why, but it brought you a feeling of comfort, knowing that today was going to be as pleasant as a few days ago, or maybe even better.

However, you still felt reluctant.

What's with the excited look on her face?

Ellie didn't directly voice her intentions and it didn't convince you to follow her. "what is it?"

The fact that you spent a whole day with her, even if the reason was looking for your purse, was enough for Ellie to consider you as a friend.

Ellie wanted to keep it a surprise, but she also knew you wouldn't go with her if she told you what she had in mind. "do you trust me?"she asked.

She looked deep into your eyes with a faint smile, she couldnt convince you , so she tried persuasion.

"absolutely not",you replied honestly. The last time she told you to trust her was before the spicy food contest, and this girl couldn't eat spicy noodles to save her life!

The truth was that she just wanted to help. If lying about the most random things could get you to do fun things with her, she would certainly do it.

And that's exactly how she managed to get you behind her on her black bosozoku. You were gripping the sides of her motorcycle for dear life, not having any seatbelt on.

Ellie pushed the key, turning on her motorcycle, before looking at you to make sure you felt safe.

You caught her smirk before she turned her head back to look at the road; the gangster could tell you've never been on a motorcycle before.

"gimme your hands," Ellie said.

You did as Ellie said, and she placed your arms around her waist. You didn't mind being this close to her since it was for your safety, especially when she smelled so good.

You felt safer holding Ellie like this than wearing helmets and protection from head to toe.

But that quickly changed as soon as she drove off, speeding as if she owned the road.

Many drivers honked, surprised by how fast and how close Ellie was approaching them. You could swear you would have died right there if she wasn't used to doing this.

It was almost miraculous that both of you arrived safe and sound in Shibuya, but not without feeling so dizzy that you couldn't walk straight.

"c'mon, was I really that bad?" Ellie complained at your reaction. She forgot it was your first time on a motorcycle as she was driving; she was purely guided by adrenaline and kind of felt bad about it.

"are you expecting me to praise you after driving like this?" You left home without eating breakfast, and Ellie promised you'd eat once you guys arrived in Shibuya. However, you were too nauseous to put anything in your mouth. You wondered if it wasnt part of her plan

The worst part is Ellie wasn't even drunk,she was driving like this sober !

As she was driving, you forced yourself not to blink, too scared that you would see your life flash by at any moment.

"you're such a drama queen. also, I like physical touch over praises if that helps," the auburn-haired girl chuckled. She saw how nauseous you felt and decided to get you straight to the place she had in mind, skipping breakfast.

"shut up"you retorted but you didnt let this information unregistered in your head.

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Entering this luxurious building felt like stepping into a hidden world. You felt excited, but it also felt wrong.

Everyone gathered around everything. Younger adults were drawn towards slot machines, whereas older people gathered around tables playing games you knew your dad had played before.

You immediately recognized you had entered a casino when you saw the elders playing roulette.

It was during this game that your dad met his ex-gang for the very first time, managing to befriend the members despite losing all his money to them.

That must be a gangster thing because Ellie was literally the one dragging you here. You had passed in front of the building multiple times but never entered it due to lack of interest.

Ellie walked towards the back of the room, holding your hand to make sure you wouldn't run away.

You felt eyes on you as Ellie continued towards a colorful door at the back of the room, its colors contrasting with the white-beige walls of the room but blending perfectly with the one she led you into.

The pink and yellow machines immediately caught your eye.

Ellie knew what she was doing.

Upbeat music played, setting the atmosphere, and unlike the other room, these games attracted both elders and younger people.

"what game is that?" You turned to Ellie, who was already taking a seat. There was no way you could refuse playing pachinko after she had won you 200 bucks last time.

"just another way for us to make money,who knows...we might even get rich by the end of the day." Ellie had played pachinko multiple times before bringing you here for the first time. Luck wasn't something she believed in, but she had learned tricks that often made her win—maybe not every time, but more than everyone in the room combined.

It was also the occasion to see you and make up for her absence yesterday since she was busy kicking ass with her friends.

But mostly, she wanted to show off after losing the spicy eating contest to you. She still hadn't recovered after this, being the bad loser she is...

"sometimes your confidence is kinda tricky," you replied, looking at her hands taking out shiny balls from her pockets.

This girl never carried a bag, so she had the most random things hidden in her pockets.

"just sometimes, not every time" Ellie took your hand, giving you a handful of pachinko balls without giving you the choice but to play with her.

It's not like you would say 'no' after making all this way here, and especially after she helped you find your precious purse.

Her finger softly grazed next to the silver bow ring adorning your middle finger.

"did you know that you can make jewelry out of pachinko balls?" Ellie asked as she pulled a lever, launching the balls in the machine. Colorful arrows of lights flickered on the Pac-Man backboard as upbeat music started to play.

"really?" You mimicked Ellie's action with your Dragon Ball Z-themed machine. You weren't particularly into shonen anime, but the other machine to Ellie's right was already taken by a young guy.

Ellie elaborated as she adjusted the pressure on the lever, launching the shiny balls in the machine, trying to get them into the winning pocket. "you can drill small holes into the balls to string them together for necklaces or bracelets. I've seen some girls adding beads and charms, it's kinda cute."

Your eyes followed the balls bouncing off pins and obstacles as you pressed the button, trying to control their trajectory. Too focused on the machine in front of you, you nodded in response to her random facts.

Ellie then closed her mouth, fully dedicating her attention to putting the small balls in the winning pocket. The balls kept launching in the machine as she applied pressure on the lever, but not a single one would hit the jackpot. She considered this as a warm-up, hoping she would quickly get the hang of it.

On the other hand, despite having absolutely no experience in playing pachinko or gambling games, you were doing perfectly, having each single ball thrown straight into the winning pocket as if you'd been playing for years.

It was not strategy nor how many times you were pressing the button that would make you win; there was simply no other explanation than luck. You never went outside without putting on your favorite silver ring, convinced that it would bring you luck. And here you were, getting more balls in the tray ready to be exchanged for money.

Ellie looked at your machine, purely intrigued. She thought she was going to impress you and not the other way around.

Not a single ball missed the winning pocket!

"hey, did you know why the pachinko ball went to school?" Ellie went back to playing but not without trying to distract you.

"I have no idea." You knew what Ellie was doing; you were starting to know her a little better. Her stupid jokes weren't something that would easily distract you; in fact, you kept accumulating new balls in your tray.

"because it wanted to be a little brighter." She was the only one laughing, but she managed to make you smile, which satisfied her.

She was convinced she could make you laugh out loud soon.

"trying to distract me won't make you win." You would occasionally glance at her, desperately trying to get at least one ball in the winning pocket, noticing how her confidence disappeared instantly from the minute she started to pull the lever.

You almost pitied her. (you kept playing anyway.)

Ellie thought there was no other explanation than a machine problem; maybe she picked a defective machine that would only make her lose.

After a few minutes, you noticed Ellie wasn't beside you anymore; the seat on your right was empty, and instead of her, you caught the envious gaze of a guy looking younger than you.

The sound of people whispering behind you, along with balls aggressively flipping at every corner of the machine, made you turn around; Ellie was behind you on another machine.

Luckily winning, she'd get new shiny balls in her tray after 30 minutes of playing, already imagining how full of cash her pockets were going to be.

However, if money could bring luck, it could also do the opposite; you were too focused on your game to notice how much attention it gathered.

"It's her, right over there with the child's clothes," the door in the back of the room opened before loudly being slammed. Two men in suits walked straight towards you.

Ellie noticed them and stood up before they could try anything.

"she's cheating, sir! I saw her with my own eyes!" It was the same guy looking at you with pure envy from earlier, now talking. You didn't even notice him leaving. You wondered how he was going to prove it.

"miss, stand up and step aside," the taller guy ordered, not even considering the younger guy lying.

"how is winning cheating? this dude is just mad that I have good luck," you defended yourself, but you could tell the taller guy didn't want to hear anything from a woman like you, even if you were telling the truth.

You desperately wanted to keep your jackpot, so you had no choice but to do as he told you, hoping this misunderstanding would quickly end.

Suddenly, you felt a hand forcefully pushing you towards the two men. The three of you fell to the floor like bowling pins, with the two men's heads bumping into each other as yours was cushioned by the tall guy's abdomen.

You didn't even want to apologize when the younger dude yelled at you for trying to kill them, claiming it was an attempt to get away with your 'cheating'

You sighed at how chaotic the situation had turned in just a split second and noticed Ellie behind you.

The two men slowly stood up, and the taller guy pushed you away before he went to check the pachinko machine.

There was no proof that you were cheating, and the look of envy on the guy's face was now mixed with jealousy.

He added another lie, determined to make you lose your jackpot. "aren't minors forbidden in this place, sir?"

His tone was so cocky; you were more trying to control yourself from punching him in the face than keep explaining yourself.

"shut the fuck up. I bet your pubic hair is still growing for the first time," Ellie walked towards him as she cracked her fingers, her patience quickly wearing thin.

The guy stepped back anxiously as he recognized the golden signature on Ellie's jacket.

You've never seen anyone get in such a state just by looking at someone's jacket, but this also explained why everyone would give Ellie a 3-meter of private space in public.

"excuse me? watch your mouth, otherwise not only her, but also you will be expelled," he wasn't even denying what Ellie had said.

The tall man looked you up and down, wondering how the guards even let you enter the casino. You and Ellie didn't even see anyone controlling people at the entrance.

Ellie's gaze shifted from the young guy's face to the tall man's, coming up with a quick lie too, even though both of you were legal. "no, seriously, she's uh... she's my mother. she's just dressed in child's clothes."

Both of the guys looked at each other before looking at you, searching for any sign of old age.

"Yeah, I brought my daughter here so we could get money and get a lawyer for divorce." Your brain worked faster than you'd think. You glanced at Ellie before looking at them, hoping to make this lie sound like truth to the stupid men.

Unfortunately, their level of stupidity was so high that they would only believe men lying, but never women, regardless of whether they'd lie or tell the truth.

Because you had tried both,but it didn't stop both you and Ellie from being expelled from the casino, thrown outside of the building like useless trash.

You brushed the dust off your dress as you stood up with Ellie. "I hate men," you complained as you looked at the front of the building.

The reason both of you got kicked out wasn't because of your age, but because Ellie violently headbutted the two men who were going to call the police on them.

You didn't blame her though; you got kicked out without your jackpot, but she did what you restrained yourself from doing.

Ellie looked at you, making sure you weren't hurt or anything. "same, they didn't have to throw us out like that", her voice dripping with annoyance as she looked back at the building.

Although you were safe, with no police to track you down and no men trying to threaten you, you still felt bad and for losing the jackpot you won.

But you stopped worrying once you recognized the shiny balls Ellie was taking out of her pockets. "no need to be grumpy now,i got these just in time" Ellie said proudly as she handed them out to you. Ellie was usually chill and carefree, but in serious situations, her brain would always work faster than she'd think. That's how she got the quick reflex to push you to the two douchebags so she could put your pachinko balls in her pocket.

There was no way you were going to get in trouble AND lose what belonged to you.

☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°☆°

Impatiently, both of you went to exchange the pachinko balls for money secretly. It wasn't your first time doing something illegal for your own interest; in fact, it was starting to become a habit.

Ellie counted up all the money while you stood next to her, ensuring there was no one watching around, but your eyes would always turn back to Ellie with a focused look on her face.

You couldn't see her beautiful freckles because the roofs of the houses were blocking the sun, casting their shadows on the ground.

The darkness reflected the mystery of Ellie's mind to you.

You wondered what her childhood was like, why she liked darker colors, how she always appeared tough and fearless. You wondered if she ever showed her vulnerable side to her gang members.

But mostly, you wondered why she kept helping you. Was there a deeper meaning behind her smile, a message conveyed through the way she looked at you, and why was she desperate to hear you laugh at her jokes?

Ellie wasn't an attention seeker, but she loved it when you would give yours to her.

The way you stood up for yourself and kicked the ass of the asshole who stole your purse that day was undeniably attractive.

Ellie was still thinking about it; she also imagined how it would be if you joined her gang. The day after that, although she hadn't seen you all day, it didn't mean that you didn't leave her mind.

You realized you hit the big jackpot when Ellie gave you the amount of money your luck was worth; those 500 bucks were easy money for you.

Ellie had a bit less money than you, but when you handed her half of what you had, she refused respectfully.

"we said we'd split up," you insisted. You still had the 200 bucks she got you doubled up in your purse. They were the first thing you grabbed before she drove you to the casino. You never had the occasion to properly thank her for helping you find your purse until now.

Ellie looked at you. She knew your intention but still refused, though she appreciated the act. "you won this because you're a good player. It's yours," her tone softer than usual.

So you softened yours too. "at least take it as a gift." You took her hand, but she closed it before you could give her anything.

You knew Ellie preferred actions over words, so why wasn't she accepting the money?

"I swear I'm going to shove it in your mouth if you keep refusing my act of gratefulness."

Ellie just laughed at how quickly your tone changed, insisting for her to take the money you offered her. She liked how fast you started to understand her.

"Wow, so kind of you, but-"Ellie replied sarcastically, but suddenly her phone rang, interrupting your moment.

Slipping the money into her pockets was far from discreet, so you decided to wait.

You weren't listening, just hearing.

You assumed the deep raspy voice talking to Ellie was Joel. He was telling her to come back home soon since the sun was going to start setting, which she agreed to. She couldn't say 'no' after he said he made pizza.

Ellie talked to Joel as she kept eye contact with you, making the call quick.

"' 'mkay, see ya," she closed her flip phone, making a 'clap' sound before fully focusing her attention back to you.

"kiddo..." you muttered. The way Ellie and Joel conversed told you a lot about their relationship. Joel had a caring yet friendly tone, while Ellie would give short and direct responses. Something felt off between these two, but what caught your attention the most was the nickname Joel would call Ellie. "he calls you kiddo, how cute."

Ellie put her phone back in her pocket, giving you an unappreciative side eye. "don't call me that."

"I was just saying that the way he calls you kiddo's cute." You noticed how embarrassed Ellie got; it showed all over her face with how fast she blushed.

Ellie sighed. She regretted not lowering the volume of her phone during her call; she knew you would tease her about it. "yeah, but he's the only one allowed to call me that."

"but I wasnt calling you kiddo."

"say that one more time and I'll kill you." Ellie shot you a glare as she playfully threatened you. You forgot this side of her for a moment. It wasn't the weed making her chill and goofy whenever she's around you; it was just the way she was with you.

You smiled playfully before leaning your face toward her,you knew perfectly how to annoy her "kiddo"

You ran as fast as you could away from her, with her chasing you.

The wind was blowing against you, making your hair fly as you ran.

Ellie was catching up to you, but before she could grab you ,you stumbled and slipped headfirst on the floor !

Too embarrassed, you stayed on the floor when you heard Ellie exploding into laughter as if she had been holding her laughter in for centuries.

"you don't even wear platforms, how the fuck did you slip like that?" Ellie walked closer to you still refusing to budge. You wanted her to feel guilty

Ellie noticed the lack of response and instantly got worried, already imagining the worst scenarios. She crouched down, gently moving your hair out of your face. "hey ♡, are you ok?" Her voice was caring and gentler compared to earlier.

If she only talks to you like this when worried, you'd stumble on the ground more often.

#Spotify #ellie fluff #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #mini series #tlou #ellie x reader #wlw

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emotionalcadaver · 11 hours

Text

Part 20: Smoky Kisses

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: There's nothing like some smoke in the lungs to make the head spin.

Word Count: 3,822

Notes: I have never smoked, nor tried shot-gunning smoke, so I cannot vouch for it regarding whether or not it is something safe to try. Warnings for depictions of smut, including shot-gunning cigarette smoke, size kink, and references to polyamory. Special shoutout to @amyowl470 for providing me with the idea for this fic in the first place.

Masterlists: Main • Series

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Oh, for fuck’s sake, Lucy caught herself thinking with her shoulder leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest and brow raised in slightly amusement and fondness that was steadily starting to prickle with minor annoyance.

Tommy was sitting in their big bed, the one with the deep red canopy and matching comforter, dressed in only his white undershorts, golden glasses frames perched on his nose, and a sizable stack of papers in his lap. He was pouring over them, making quick little marks and scribbled notes in the margins with his pen. The cigarette he had settled between his lips was plucked away with two fingers so that he could exhale a stream of smoke into the air, eyes never once leaving his papers.

It had been a busy week, she understood that. Nearly everyone had left after the incident with the arrests and the almost-hangings, and they were still trying to find replacements for some of them. And in the meantime, it meant more work for both of them to juggle.

But…paperwork in bed, Tommy, really? She had been hoping, since they managed to leave the office at a semi-decent hour tonight, that maybe they would have time for something a little more romantic than just collapsing exhausted into bed and passing out like they had for every other evening for the past week.

He did look good, that she would admit. The cigarette and boxers in bed look was working for her. She could see the subtle flex in his arm muscles and his pecs when he brought the smoking cigarette back to his lips, biting her lip at the sight.

She’d have been more willing to just stand there and admire him, if that hadn’t already been what she was doing for the last five minutes without him even looking up. He probably didn’t even realize she was there.

She sighed, a little louder than normal to try to get his attention, pouting when he didn’t make any indication that he’d heard her. Here she was, leaning against the doorframe leading from the ensuite washroom into their bedroom, dressed in one of her nicest lacy red nightgowns, and he wasn’t even paying any attention to her.

She knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but still. She’d had to share him with the endless stacks of paperwork accumulating on his desk both at home and in the office all week. She wanted her lover to herself tonight, thank you very much.

With a huff, she straightened, uncrossing her arms and marching across the room. Tommy was so focused on his papers he didn’t even seem to notice her until she was physically scooping up the papers and dumping them onto his nightstand, replacing them with her thighs straddling across his lap.

“What–”

She didn’t answer right away, just taking the pen he still held hovering in the air, capping it and tossing it to join the papers on the bedside table. Movements more careful, she slid his glasses from his face, folding the stems of them and leaning over to set them atop the papers.

Tommy blinked at her widely, and she fought back a smug grin as his eyes finally took in the deep red nightgown she was garbed in, low cut with her breasts contained only by a thin layer of practically transparent lace, hugging her waist and then flaring out at her hips, ending at a little above her mid-thigh, the material soft.

She bit her lip to keep from smiling as she practically saw every thought fly right out of his head at the sight of her, hand settling on the smooth skin of one of her thighs.

“Are you trying to replace me with paperwork?” she asked, head cocking while her lips pressed together in amusement. Tommy, eyes fixed pointedly at her breasts, didn’t respond for a moment. “Tommy?”

His eyes snapped up to hers, cheeks coloring a little.

“Huh?”

Lucy giggled. Seemed that she wasn’t the only one who was a little pent up from a week of minimal intimacy. She kissed his forehead.

He blinked at her slowly, mind catching up on its processing after her lace-covered tits had short-circuited it. His face fell.

“I’ve been neglecting you,” he said, as if just realizing it. Lucy shrugged.

“Maybe a little. It’s alright. I’m not upset. I know work is a madhouse right now. But those,” she jerked her thumb at the papers, “have no business being in our bed right now. They can keep ‘til morning,” shifting, she settled herself down more firmly onto him, making sure that he could distinctly feel that she was wearing nothing under her nightgown, already plenty slick and wet for him. Tommy’s eyes widened, a weak moan falling from his lips. She wound her arms around his neck, pressing their foreheads together. “I want to have you all to myself now.”

Tommy hummed in agreement, tilting his head up to kiss her. It started off soft, but the moment her lips parted, the kiss deepened. He growled when her tongue stroked over his, hips rolling up into her, and she moaned at the feeling of his cock, hardening and bulging in his shorts, pressing against her.

His hand smoothed across her back, pulling her closer while her fingers knotted in his hair as his kisses started to pepper down her neck and to her chest, along the hem of her nightgown. The hand on her back moved to her thigh again, sneaking up it until he was curling his warm palm around her hip.

Fingers smoothing through the hair at the back of his head, she cupped his cheeks, tilting his face up to look at her. He smirked at her, eyes glimmering, and it was only when his other hand moved that she realized he was still clutching his cigarette in his hand, bringing it to his lips in a slow, seductive movement. She practically held her breath as she watched him inhale around it. Removing the white stick from his mouth, he angled his head up, and slowly blew the smoke up, into her face.

A shudder went through her, the smoke wrapping around her like a blanket, warm where it kissed her cheeks. A fresh gush of arousal wetted her inner thighs, and before she could fully even process what she was doing, her mouth was crashing down onto his hungrily.

Tommy kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm, grunting when she grinded her bare pussy against his clothed cock. She whined, inner walls clenching. If it weren’t for the fabric of his shorts separating them, he could already have been inside her.

“Mm, hang on,” he said, pulling back and twisting around for only a quick moment so he could drop his still smoking cigarette into the ashtray on the nightstand. A part of her wanted to tell him to keep ahold of it, but the rest of her ached to have both his hands all over her.

He returned to her, mouth seeking hers immediately while the hand on her hip squeezed, and suddenly, with his other hand now free to help, he was pulling her nightgown up. She maneuvered her arms to help him, pausing only briefly when they came up for air between kisses to pull it off over her head and toss it aside to land in a little heap somewhere on the floor. Tommy purred in approval, breaking their most recent kiss so he could lean back and appreciate her.

“Pretty as you looked in it, I think I prefer you like this,” he husked, hand trailing over her naked body to palm one of her breasts while he kissed her again.

Lucy sighed, breathing in the scent of arousal and smoke permeating throughout the room. A shiver wracked through her limbs, nipples hardening both from arousal and the chill in the air. In reaction to her shivering, Tommy pressed his bare chest to hers, enveloping her in the warmth radiating from his body by hooking his arm around her waist. His tongue had slipped into her mouth when she’d sighed, tangling with hers in slow, lazy, open mouthed kisses.

Fumbling and shifting, movements frantic, she raised herself up from his lap just enough to push his shorts down his thighs, Tommy kicking them off the rest of the way and drawing her back down into him. The feeling of his strong muscles flexing against her only made the heat of desire in her core grow, moaning softly into his mouth when his thick, hard cock bumped against her clit.

Tommy groaned softly against her lips, one hand caressing her head as they kissed again and again and again.

“Please…” she begged softly, head tipping back as his swollen, straining erection nudged her entrance. Tommy purred, eyes fluttering, lips still so close to hers they were nearly brushing.

“Mm, do you need me too…?”

“No,” she breathed out, already reaching down to take him in hand. He groaned deeply as her fingers slid between her legs, gathering the wetness already dripping there before wrapping around his cock, pumping up and down a few times, using her wetness and the precum oozing from his tip to help slicken him up. “No, I’m ready.”

“Fuck, okay,” shifting, he let her guide him to her entrance, growling as the head of his engorged cock slipped in. Lucy gasped, back arching and hand grabbing at his shoulder in reaction to the deep stretch as she slid down onto him, slowly sheathing him inside her.

Tommy groaned from deep in his chest, head dropping to momentarily rest his face in her neck, and she stilled to give them both a moment to adjust once he’d bottomed out.

“Fuckkkk, so tight, Lucy.”

“Tommy,” she felt stretched nearly to her limits. If he was any bigger, she was sure he’d have split her in two, her walls aching and throbbing needily as they adjusted to his significant girth. Wrapping both arms around his shoulders, she hugged him in closer to her, eyes fluttering closed as she let herself get lost in the sensation of his cock buried inside her, his breaths warm where his face was resting against her throat.

“You’re alright?” he asked, lips brushing the sensitive spot on her neck that always made her shiver. “It doesn’t hurt?”

Lucy smiled a little to herself. He was always so worried about hurting her; always making an effort to check in and ensure that she was comfortable.

Sweet man.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay,” she murmured at the same time he raised his head to more properly scrutinize her face. Satisfied that he didn’t see any signs of discomfort there, he brushed a few stray curls back behind her ear, face angling to kiss her softly. Lucy gave a little squeeze to his shoulders as she kissed him back eagerly.

At a languid pace, she rose up until only the tip of him remained inside her, then slid down, taking all of him back in slowly. She moaned at the sensation, head falling back, eyes rolling a little in her head when she paused after taking him into the hilt and just grinded against him, the movements doing wonderful things to her clit.

Tommy’s hips rolled up to help her as they set a steady, slow pace together, angling himself purposefully so he was stroking against her g-spot with every thrust. Lucy curled her legs around his lips, holding him impossibly close. Shaking some of his dark fringe that had flopped forward out of his eyes, he laid a hand on the side of her face.

“I want to try something,” he husked out, the lowness of his voice enough to make her walls squeeze involuntarily around him. Tommy grunted a little at that, smirking at her even as she felt his hips stutter forward unintentionally in response.

“What?” she asked, brow raised.

Turning his head, Tommy nuzzled at her hair. “Do you trust me?” he asked, voice still low and deep in a way that went straight to her cunt. At the same time, his cock dragged against her inner walls and made her see stars, head tipping back towards the canopy with a moan, nails biting a little into his shoulders. She felt Tommy’s lips curve smugly into a smile against her cheek before he leaned back to raise a questioning brow at her.

It took her a moment to remember what they’d even been talking about. “Of course,” she breathed out, looking at him with all the trust in the world in her eyes, not a shred of doubt in her mind that he would take care of and protect her. No matter what.

He kissed her between the brows, the arm around her waist giving her a small squeeze. “Keep moving,” he said, and she nodded, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his neck, continuing to rock steadily on him while he thrusted up into her. His middle and index finger of the hand around her waist rubbed unconscious circles into the flesh there, while his other hand reached back, fumbling for something on the nightstand.

He kissed the side of her head affectionately, and she gasped when he suddenly–purposefully, she imagined–thrusted up into her a little harder, her back arching and head lolling back, eyes closing and mouth falling open.

There was a sudden, oddly familiar click, and her brows knitted together in confusion, eyes opening to be greeted with the sight of Tommy with a cigarette wedged between his lips, an open lighter raising to it, waiting until the flame caught and lit the cigarette before clicking it closed and tossing it somewhere back onto the nightstand.

He never once ceased his steady thrusts inside of her the entire time, and there was something about the sight of it: him fucking her nice and slow and lazily, like it took no effort at all, while lighting a cigarette at the same time, that made her nearly incoherent with attraction to him. She caught herself coating his cock in a sudden gush of fresh arousal, a startled moan sounding from her lips as she watched him. From around the cigarette, Tommy smirked at her.

Plucking it from his lips, he tilted his head back, blowing the smoke up towards the canopy. He then cupped her chin, thumb trailing across her bottom lip.

“Open your mouth.”

She stared at him in a combination of arousal and befuddlement, hesitantly parting her lips. Tommy took a long, deep drag from the cigarette, then leaned forward, mouth pressing to hers, exhaling the smoke down her throat. Lucy moaned, fingers tangling in his hair, lungs expanding as the smoke he was breathing into her filled them.

His cock continued to thrust in and out of her, the arm around her waist helping to support her weight as he took over lifting her up and down on him, her mind too overtaken by the combined sensation of him fucking her and breathing smoke into her lungs to be able to handle motor skills.

Her head was spinning, walls clenching in seemingly perpetuity around his cock at how good it all felt. It was beyond words. Practically euphoric. Her lungs burned a little, but she never wanted it to end. Just the idea that the smoke she was now breathing had once been within him was enough to have her on the brink of coming, eyes rolling in her head while she crushed his mouth harder against hers.

When they finally broke for air, the smoke flooded out of her, blowing into his face. Tommy groaned.

“Squeezing me so hard, love,” he rasped, nuzzling at her temple, hips bucking a little harder into her. He pulled back to look at her seriously. “Good?” he asked. Lucy nodded desperately, trying with a hand on his shoulder to pull him closer.

“Again,” she half pleaded.

Tommy’s eyes flashed wickedly, obliging by bringing the cigarette back to his lips. The moment it parted from them, she was pressing her mouth to his, moaning into him as he breathed his smoke down her throat.

The third time, they switched, Lucy taking the cigarette from his offering fingers and raising it to her mouth. Inhaling as deeply as she could around it, she held the smoke within her lungs until he kissed her, then exhaled, drawing it out as long as she could. Tommy groaned, cock twitching and throbbing in her.

Back and forth they went, rocking steadily and increasingly desperately against each other as they blew smoke into each other’s lungs. Lucy could feel herself teetering right on the brink of an orgasm, so close, she just needed a little more…

“Last one,” Tommy rumbled, turning the almost finished cigarette over between his fingers. Lucy bit her lip, debating whether or not she should ask him to light them a second one. He inhaled from it deeply, twisting quickly to stub it into the ashtray and then turning back to pull her into his arms.

At the same time he exhaled the smoke into their kisses, he circled his thumb around her clit, and she nearly wailed, the pleasure in her lower belly tightening. He felt fucking huge inside her, getting as deep as he could, rubbing up against her g-spot with each movement. Lucy was riding him with abandon, their movements frantic as his cock pumped in and out of her, his thrusts meeting hers each and every time. Smoky kisses pressed to her mouth over and over again while his cock slid in and out, stretching her beyond belief, throbbing huge and heavy inside of her, his thumb circling.

She sobbed out his name as she finally came, whole little body tensing with the explosiveness of it. Tommy clutched her closer to him, growling lowly at the feeling of her tensing around him. He continued to stroke deeply inside of her, slowing the pace a little to draw out her orgasm, thumb still applying consistent pressure to her clit.

Just as the aftershocks were beginning to subside, he pressed his hand to the small of her back, keeping her steady and firmly in place as he started to pick up the pace again. Her eyes widened when his thumb pressed down a little firmer onto her clit, realizing that he was going to drive her from one orgasm right into a second one.

“Tommyyyyyyyy,” his name on her lips drew out as he tilted her a little in his arms, pushing just that much deeper into her. He growled, and she felt him swell even larger due to his own impending orgasm. She scrabbled at his shoulders for purchase, nails leaving light red lines on his skin in their wake. “Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” she chanted, like a prayer.

He grunted, muscles straining under her hands in what she realized was an attempt to stave off his release until she’d come again. He didn’t have to wait long–a high whine left her lips the next time he bottomed out, second orgasm swelling up within her like a rising tide, then bursting with a force that left white spots popping in her vision.

Tommy moaned, the tightening of her walls around him as she came enough to send him over the edge as well, pushing in all the way to the hilt and holding himself there as he emptied inside her in several warm, sizable bursts of seed.

Lucy collapsed forward into him, arms wrapped around his neck and head buried in his shoulder. Tommy was breathing heavily, chest heaving against hers while he tucked his face into her hair, arms holding her tightly. Slowly, he reclined them both back onto the pillows. His softened cock slipped out of her, and Lucy curled into a ball on his chest with a sigh, basking in the feeling of Tommy’s large hand stroking her hair and her back while he kissed her forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

Frowning, she peered up at him quizzically. “What for?”

He continued to pet her head. “I haven’t been spending time with you properly, lately.”

“Oh, Tommy, no…it’s alright. We’ve been so busy…”

But he shook his head, touching her cheek. “I don’t ever want to take you for granted,” he swallowed hard. She wondered if he was thinking about Grace. How quickly she’d been snatched from their lives. How they should have spent more time with her, before it was too late. “You’re too important.”

Turning her face, Lucy kissed the center of his palm. “I’ve never felt like you’ve taken me for granted.”

Curling two fingers under her chin, he tilted her face up to plant a lazy, sweet kiss onto her lips. Lucy hummed happily, snuggling back down into his chest after they broke apart. She smiled a little to herself as she traced a fingertip along the tattoo of her name, stylized and curved into the shape of a heart, on his inner left forearm.

Tommy reached for his cigarettes and lighter where he’d dropped them, sighing as he scooped them up and opened the case. Lucy raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“What?”

He huffed. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to smoke for a while now without getting a semi.”

She giggled, not able to say that she disagreed, a small fluttering in her cunt occurring as she watched him place a cigarette between his lips and light it. He took a puff, then offered it to her. Lucy took a steady drag from it, blowing the smoke up towards his face playfully. His hand squeezed at her hip.

“Careful,” he half growled. She just laughed and passed the cigarette back to him, head dropping to again rest between his pecs. His hand petting through her hair was soothing, lulling her to doze lightly on him until he finished the cigarette, stubbing it out into the ashtray and flicking off the light. He settled back into the pillows with a deep exhale, her head still on his chest and his arms around her.

“I mean it,” his voice rumbled softly in the dark. “Any time you feel like I’m not spending enough time with you outside of work, or like I’m neglecting us…kick me in the ass about it. Please,” he brushed some of her hair back, away from her face. “I love you. I’d never ignore you intentionally.”

“I know,” she smiled up at him, stretching up to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I love you too.”

He nearly purred, nuzzling down into her like a giant cat. Lucy cuddled him back with equal enthusiasm, arms giving him a little squeeze of affection around his ribs that made him hum and tangle their legs together. Lucy closed her eyes, sleepy and in love, and happy to be warm and cherished in his arms.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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Masterlists: Main • Series

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinders #lucy winters #lucy winters x tommy shelby #my ocs #my fanfiction #laur writes #love me where i'm most ruined

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greenvillainredemption · 11 months

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Wdtajn has been great for getting out of my current long-ass-multichapter-writing monotony woooo

#encanto #I guess when I’m stuck in the angst it’s good to get into a comedic one shot #I’m doing a 4 chapter thing where each chapter is a one shot #I kinda feel like I should’ve done that for encantober instead of making them completely separate stories under the series or collection #category or whatever #maybe I’ll reformat those. I did only do three iirc #I would like to do more one shots but I never have any ideas that won’t turn into multichapters #I think I did like...one random one shot that wasn’t part of any prompt or challenge thing #my words

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theemporium · 4 months

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[3k] a f1 gossip page gets insider knowledge of what might be the paddock's best kept secret. in fact, it is so well kept that even the paddock don't know who it is about (aka a wee crack fic i couldn't get out of my head ft the papaya bunch).

series masterlist

It was media day at the Barcelona Grand Prix when the rumours began.

Somewhere between team media duties and the official conferences, a group had found themselves lounging in the shared canteen. It was a neutral zone, the journalists weren’t allowed inside and it was just a place for most of the drivers to relax with their family and friends outside of the garages and motorhomes.

You were sat in the seat next to Lando, his arm sprawled over the back of your chair and his thigh pressing against yours with how close he was sitting beside you. He was looking over your shoulder, a giddy smile on his face as you went through a few of the shots he had taken on his camera that morning—including an obscene amount of ‘candid’ shots that you made him swear not to post anywhere, despite his reassurances you looked gorgeous.

It was a startled laugh from Daniel that caught everyone’s attention.

“There’s no fucking way!” Max laughed as he gaped at Daniel’s phone screen, shaking his head as he did. “Where the fuck do they get this from?!”

Daniel only laughed harder.

It took a few minutes before the Aussie finally turned his screen around and display the tweet for everyone to see. It took a few more minutes of snooping to find the article that followed the bizarre rumour.

“Alright, who’s gonna fess up?” Lando joked as his eyes glanced over all the drivers currently sprawled across the various tables. “My bet is on Carlos. He seems like the kinda guy to have a secret kid.”

“Shut up,” Carlos scoffed before he nodded to the boy on his right. “It would obviously be Charles.”

The Monegasque spluttered out a laugh, his cheeks heating up. “It’s not me!”

“That’s what someone who has a secret kid would say,” Max retorted, seeming to enjoy the way the Ferrari driver’s face began to match the colour of his shirt. “You can tell us the truth about Charlie Junior.”

“First of all, I would never name my child that,” Charles said with his nose scrunched up in displeasure. “And I wouldn’t hide my children. I would be proud of them.”

“They could be hiding the children for privacy's sake. A paddock isn't exactly the best place for a child to be roaming around. Or the safest,” another voice spoke up and everyone’s eyes fell to the younger Aussie sitting across the table from you. Oscar squirmed a little under the sudden attention. “What?”

“You wanna tell us something, mate?” Lando questioned, a grin growing on his face.

Oscar’s cheeks burned red. “I-It’s not about me!”

“You caught him,” Logan laughed as he playfully knocked his shoulder against his friend’s. “He has three kids back in Australia. Our lil’ Oscie is a father.”

Oscar frowned. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“I’m offended you didn’t tell us,” you joked as you knocked your foot against his shin under the table. “I expected to be the godmother of one of your kids.”

“You would be if I had any,” Oscar quickly countered, making you snort in response.

“Well, we have some clues,” Daniel commented as he leaned back in his chair, looking far too amused with the situation. “Time to start going through possible suspects.”

“Maybe you’re trying to throw us off your scent,” you joked.

“Shhh, sweetheart, they can’t know about our secret family just yet,” the Aussie teased as he sent a wink your way.

You felt an arm tighten around you and turned to see Lando glaring—albeit, jokingly—towards his former teammate. “Back off, Ricciardo, if anyone is gonna have a secret family with her, it’s gonna be me.”

Daniel laughed. “Please, the two of you couldn’t keep a secret from us if you tried!”

“Uh, we so could,” you retorted.

“You two couldn’t even keep Oscar’s surprise birthday party a secret and it was your idea,” Logan pointed out, raising his hands in mock surrender when your head snapped around to look at him.

“We got excited!” You defended.

“And you don’t think you would be excited about a secret family?” Oscar countered.

“I think we could hide a secret pretty damn well if we tried,” you replied with a shrug as you leaned further back into your boyfriend’s embrace.

“Especially as something as serious as a secret family,” Lando added with a nod.

“Who cares?” Max eventually said with a laugh. “The rumour is a load of bullshit anyways. There’s no way anyone is going to believe it.”

As it would turn out, the whole world believed the rumours. The rest of the race weekend was haunted by the ‘new’ piece of gossip. The paddock was full of whispers of ‘who?’, the journalists thought they were being sly as they snuck in a few questions to catch the drivers off guard, and hundreds of fan theories took over every social media platform as the weekend commenced.

Truthfully, you thought it would be one of those rumours that dragged on for a bit as a joke but died down by the next weekend.

You were very wrong.

...

You didn’t realise how wrong you were until the Austrian Grand Prix came about the following weekend.

With both McLaren drivers wrapped up in some nonsense challenge video the media team had set them up for, you had made your way towards the Williams garage to spend your Thursday afternoon with them instead.

There was a cosy spot in the garage where you found yourself sat with Logan and Alex as the team buzzed around them, whispers and talks of the car’s potential that weekend. You were laying back in your seat, your feet thrown over Logan’s lap as you chatted away to Alex when the American caught both of your attention.

“There’s two!”

Logan lifted his head to find two matching confused expressions staring right back at him.

“There’s two,” he repeated as he turned his phone around, a single tweet sprawled over his screen with an all too familiar username on display. “Two kids! A driver is hiding two kids!”

You snorted. “You have got to be shitting me. One rumoured kid wasn’t enough so they added another?”

“This driver has certainly been busy,” Alex mused as he took Logan’s outstretched phone, beginning to scroll through the never-ending comments under the tweet. “I guess the long term girlfriend thing does kinda narrow it down.”

You raised your brows. “Don’t tell me you think it’s real.”

“I still have my bets on Oscar,” Logan commented with a grin, his eyes crinkling in the way you knew they did before the boy laughed. “He’s a dodgy guy. I bet he’s Formula One’s own Hannah Montana with a whole double life.”

“And, what? We are a part of his famous life?” You questioned.

“It would make sense,” Alex supplied with a shrug. “He could have a normal family back home in Australia and no one would even know.”

You rolled your eyes. “Alex, don’t encourage him.”

“Hey,” Logan frowned.

“If it turns out to be true, you wouldn’t be upset that your best friend hid something like that from you?” You retorted, watching as the boy’s face slowly fell.

Alex snorted.

“I need to go talk to….someone about…something,” Logan said vaguely before he quickly stood up, knocking your feet off his lap and rushing out the garage with a serious look on his face.

“Logan!” You called after him, laughing as you did so but it was a hopeless endeavour. He was a man on a mission and you knew nothing would stop him. “God, I should go before he ambushes the McLaren motorhome.”

“Life as a parent, huh?” Alex joked, nudging your shoulder and snickering when you rolled your eyes.

“Who would have thought I would end up adopting an American of all people?” You joked back before standing up. “Time to go stop my eagle son from throttling my kangaroo son.”

Alex flashed you a smile. “Motherhood suits you.”

“Oh, shut up,” you rolled your eyes.

And little did you realise there was a certain pair of ears listening in to your playful conversation with the Williams driver, already drafting up a message before you left for the bright orange building a few garages down.

...

It was odd for you and Lando to find any alone time during a race weekend and it was mostly due to the two rookie drivers you had somehow adopted.

It started off as a comfort thing at first. Lando knew what it was like to be young and new to the sport. He knew that even if he was coming in with friends, it still felt daunting. It was the reason he seemed to take Oscar under his wings after the Bahrain race weekend, despite the boy’s initial awkwardness.

It had been you who gravitated towards Logan. Your heart warmed at the sight of your boyfriend helping out his younger teammate, but it completely shattered when you were making your way towards the McLaren garage and spotted a certain blond rookie hidden between motorhomes. He almost looked as though he was trying to make himself seem as small as possible.

Lando didn’t question it when you started to venture to the Williams garages in between practices and media duties. He saw the look in your eyes, the small spark that showed your determination. He knew your kindness knew no limits and he would never even try to stop you.

Neither of you realised you were signing up for the roles of the 2023 rookies’ grid parents until Logan and Oscar had sauntered into Lando’s driver room and all but settled themselves between you both on the Thursday of the Baku Grand Prix.

You didn’t mind it, really. Race weekends tended to be hectic and chaotic on their own, so it was rare that you and Lando would spend much time alone. Beyond the exasperated sighs and joking remarks, neither of you minded when Oscar would lay his head on your laps after a gruelling interview or when Logan would ramble about some American custom he swears all three of you would enjoy.

It was odd not being the youngest ones on the grid anymore, but there was also something so comforting in knowing you were a safe haven for these two boys in the paddock—and sometimes, even off the track.

So honestly, it was an utter fucking shock that you and Lando found yourselves alone with time to kill in his driver’s room, especially with it being the Silverstone Grand Prix weekend.

Neither of you questioned your luck for very long before you found yourself straddling your boyfriend, knees on either side of his hips and ass firmly planted on his lap. His hands were shamelessly groping your ass. Your hands were tangled in his curls, tugging a little harsher than usual just to hear his little whimpers in between kisses. It was shameless and sloppy and a little more than either of you intended—but you didn’t have a single issue with it.

“Shit,” Lando moaned, his voice a little more high-pitched than usual when your lips met his neck. “I fuckin’ missed this.”

“Yeah?” You murmured against his skin, your tongue dancing along a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. “I missed hearing how pretty you sound.”

“You can’t say stuff like that,” Lando grumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as he pulled you closer, as he pressed his body against yours.

“But it makes you blush and you look so cute when you blush,” you teased as you lifted your head, admiring the pink tint to his cheeks. “My pretty boy.”

“You’re a tease,” Lando muttered as he sat up on the couch, as he pulled you closer so he could press his lips against yours again.

“You love it,” you retorted, the words mumbled in between kisses.

“So fucking much,” he grinned into the kiss, his hands wandering down your thighs before slowly moving back up to your ass.

In fact, it had been so long since you and Lando got a chance to utilise your time alone in the paddock that you forgot the first rule of making out like horny teens on the small couch—lock the fucking door.

“HOW COULD YOU—OH MY GOD, MY EYES!”

“GROSS! WE DID NOT NEED TO SEE BABY NUMBER THREE BEING MADE!”

If it weren’t for the tight hold Lando had on you, you would have been flat on your ass when Logan and Oscar stormed into the room. You stared at the boys in shock, your cheeks heating up as the mortification of the situation washed over all four of you.

You quickly moved yourself off Lando’s lap, instead sitting on the couch beside him as you stared at the two rookies who currently had their hands over each other’s eyes.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?!” Lando sighed.

“Have you ever heard of a door lock?” Oscar retorted.

“Touche,” he muttered back with a nod.

“You know you can look now,” you told the boys, a little amused with their theatrics. “We aren’t naked.”

Logan hesitated. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Both boys slowly dropped their hands and, truthfully, you were expecting for them to instantly break out into whatever excited ramble they had come to tell you both. It wasn’t unusual for them to do as much, to want to share something with you and Lando that amazed them but didn’t want to admit to anybody else in fear of seeming like…well, rookies. They knew you and Lando would never judge their excitement to the world of Formula One and all the little quirks they were discovering.

Except, there was no excited storytelling or massive grins. Instead, both boys stood in front of you with frowns on their faces and their hands on their hips.

Lando’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happened?”

“Why did you two not tell us we are older brothers?” Logan asked bluntly.

You blinked. “Huh?”

“Why did you not tell us we are older brothers?” This time it was Oscar who spoke up. “Why are you gatekeeping our little brothers from us?”

Lando frowned. “Is this a joke? Is that a punchline? Am I being stupid right now?”

“We get the others on the grid but us? This is a new level of betrayal,” Logan said with a completely serious look on his face.

You shook your head, utterly baffled by the two boys. “What the fuck are you guys on about?”

“You have been hiding a secret family from us! You are the ones the tweets are talking about!” Oscar said as he reached for his phone, turning the screen around so you both could see the latest article.

“WHAT?!”

“You have been keeping a secret from us. Families don’t keep secrets!” Logan accused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “If we even count as your family now.”

You gaped at them. “You seriously think that article is about us?”

“There’s proof!” Oscar retorted.

“What fucking proof?” Lando questioned, his brows furrowed together in confusion. “How can there be proof for a family that doesn’t exist?”

As it would turn out, the informant that had been feeding the gossip page the whole narrative had been also secretly recording conversations they had heard around the paddock. Along with the article, a series of 'leaked' audios were also released and they were, in fact, yours and Lando’s voice.

This person had managed to record countless conversations you shared with Lando and even some other drivers—even the conversation you had with Alex the previous weekend in the Williams garage.

“Remember we have dinner with the boys tonight. Our reservations are at six.”

“Did you remind them to put sunscreen on before they went out? I don’t want them to burn.”

“Who knew being a parent was so hard, huh?”

“Your son is bullying my son for his accent again. Make him stop or you’re both getting grounded.”

“Well, he definitely takes after you!”

Random lines of conversations taken completely out of context and, truthfully, you could understand why Twitter was going crazy. It seemed undoubtable that you and Lando were talking about your kids, it sounded like you truly were two parents discussing your children—if it weren’t for one large and missing piece of information.

“We were talking about you two, dumbasses!”

Both boys stared at you, blinking a few times. “Huh?”

“We are talking about the both of you in every single one of those clips,” you told them and you couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. “There is no secret family—just you two.”

“Oh,” Oscar murmured.

“But—oh,” Logan muttered a few seconds later.

“So this whole rumour started because somebody thought we were talking about actual kids,” Lando noted before snorting. “Fucking hell.”

“Everyone thinks you’re a dad,” you remarked with a laugh. “The boy who has one piece of tupperware that’s hanging on for dear life.”

Lando grinned back. “Well, I may not be a dad but I am a—”

“If you call yourself daddy, I am breaking up with you.”

Lando only laughed harder.

“So…you don’t have secret siblings you’re hiding from us?” Logan piped up, a shy smile on his face.

You shook your head.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out, pressing a hand on his chest. “I knew you wouldn’t betray us like that! We would obviously be the first ones you tell, right?” There was a pause. “Right?”

“Well, we walked in on them almost conceiving a child,” Oscar pointed out with a shrug before his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Please don’t conceive our little sibling in front of us.”

“You were the ones that stormed in on us,” Lando retorted.

“Still.”

“Well, consider this your warning to get out in the next thirty seconds, otherwise you’re gonna see something that will really scar you—”

Your cheeks burned. “Lando!”

“What?” Lando flashed you a cheeky grin. “If they are gonna make up rumours about me being a dad, I may as well start practising for the real deal.”

You rolled your eyes.

...

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 354,762 others

landonorris does this mean i officially get the dilf status?

view all 15,866 comments

user aww cute!

user WAIT THIS IS WHO THE RUMOUR WAS ABOUT

user lando needs to pull a carlisle cullen and adopt me into the family

yourusername in my humble opinion, i think dilf suits you perfectly ;)

oscarpiastri ew

yourusername you're too young to be on instagram

logansargeant and you are too old to sexting on instagram

yourusername you're grounded

user I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS

user okay but the photos are actually so cute wtf

user THEY BECAME GRID PARENTS INSTEAD OF ACTUAL PARENTS

maxverstappen1 they had to start somewhere

danielricciardo i'm just happy the safe sex talk we gave lando actually worked. got worried for a second

yourusername you were just scared you would become a grid grandpa

danielricciardo GRANDPA???

user nothing will ever beat this rumour

user THE FACT PEOPLE ACTUALLY THOUGHT HE HAD A KID

user TWO KIDS

user FAMILY JPEG ACCOUNT WHEN

landonorris 👀👀👀

#lando norris #formula one #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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gremlingottoosilly · 7 months

Text

What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey.

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters.

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places.

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies.

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja?

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it.

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger.

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you.

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach.

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air?

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too.

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely.

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands.

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass.

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute?

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you?

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating.

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right?

— You’re pretty.

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly.

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties.

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire.

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning.

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first.

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to.

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone, but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle.

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours.

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too.

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield?

— Stay still, ja?

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one.

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it.

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you.

— Stop, please…’s too much.

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better.

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster?

— Yes.

— Gut. Would break you in for me.

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure.

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass.

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity.

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think.

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides.

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore.

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy.

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils.

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream.

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb.

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you.

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips.

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted.

— Will you let me go?

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely.

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja?

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month

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DCxDP fan fic Idea: Danny Fenton's Ex

Danny wants to know that he did not go looking for a fight. He merely wanted to have some of the best hot dogs this side of the USA, in Tucker's words. The human world had changed a lot across differnt timelines but his best friend had assure him, this one was particually tasty.

He planned to pop in, hunt down the street cart filled with buns and meat, then pop out of Gotham. He was meant to visit for less than an hour at most.

He just happened to be at the wrong place and time. It really wasn't his fault! Danny had been minding his own business, using a paper map on the edge of a tall building (his phone had broken in the last ghost fight. Not that it would do any good since it wasn't connected to any living towers), squinting at the streets below, hoping to figure out where he was. The next thing he knew, an angry child leaped out at him with a sword.

Of course, he defended himself! The kid was doing some insane slashes in the air, and Danny had fought enough samurai ghosts to know not to underestimate how powerful a katana indeed was. He had been able to beat the child, encasing his arms in ecto-chains, after a full half hour of combat.

Danny had been dead tired- pun not intended- but just as he thought he was done, a second child had leaped out at him. This one carrying a bo-staff. It took another thirty minutes to beat this one, and just as he was gearing up for a lecture, a third child appeared.

She was wearing all purple and seemed to favor strong kicks. Danny had the bruise to prove it, but just as he could take her down—and stop the other two from escaping since they were attempting to do so—he was attacked by an actual shadow and her red bucket-head friend.

Now, those two were difficult to beat, especially when it was two vs. one. Shadow reacted as if she could predict all of his moves before he even made them, while Bucket Head made incredible shots with his guns covering her attacks.

Danny had already been expelled from his other two fights, so it was a miracle he was able to trick Shadow by allowing more of Phantom to bleed into his fighting style. She couldn't predict the dead!

He ended up on a roof with five children- okay, more like a child, two teenagers, and what could be the early twenties, but they were all young to him. Each was tied up securely with some of his own ecto-chains and glaring- he could feel the hate in their eyes even behind their masks- trying desperately to catch his breath.

"Oh boy, I'm not as young as I used to be. " He gasps between huffs. Maybe Sam was on to something when she lectured them for not having enough greens, normal exercise routines, or even taking vitamins. They really weren't teenagers anymore. "Ugh, I think I pulled something. I need to lie down..."

Just as Danny is allowing himself to slide to the floor, two more shadows jump at him. This time he's far too tired to dodge, and the blue one manages to land a drop kick to his chin. The force has Danny spinning in place, losing his balance, and slamming hard against the roof.

The tied-up children cheer, and if he wasn't a walking bruise right now, Danny would be half tempted to show them all a round two.

"Great Gatsby!" He cries out of reflex, rolling onto his back, ready to take a swing-

"Danny?" a new familiar voice cuts in. The sound is something Danny will never forget, even after all the years they have been apart. He used to fall asleep to that voice, muttering into his hair and warm arms wrapped around him, making promises never kept.

Danny whips his head around to see a man in a bat costume. He squits, studying the strong curve of a very familiar jaw and his voice-

"Wayne?" He blinks. Those lips- so familiar and different all in one- curve into a surprise, but please smile. Yes, that is definitely Bruce.

"Danny, I haven't seen you since-"

"You broke up with me through a letter on the hotel note-pad? A note-pad that I had to pay for since you touched it!?" Danny hisses, suddenly energized with pure, unadulterated rage. The man freezes.

"I, uh, see you're still upset about that." Wayne winces, shuffling on his feet- Bruce Wayne, the little human he found wandering the Infinite Realms, rescued, helped, trained, and had become human again to have the man dump him to "find himself."

Danny knew he found a lot of ladies on his self-discovery trip. He never forgave him. It has been embarrassing to have to return to the Realms to his friends' knowing eyes and his sister's sad shrug.

You knew a human could never understand or live with beings like us. We aren't like them anymore. She had told him. It was bond to end in disaster.

"What is happening?" The bow-staff kid asks

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Blue tells him.

Danny ignores them to glare at the man. "What the hell are you doing here, Wayne?"

Wayne frowns. "You used to call me Bruce."

"I used to do a lot of things, Wayne." Danny stands, gesturing to the group of people he has captured. "Can you kindly disappear again? I'm in the middle of something."

The man makes no move to leave. Instead, he tilts his head. "Those are my children."

"Of course they are." Danny rolls his eyes. "Tell them to not attack innocent tourists-"

"Are you here on vacation? Would you like me to give you a tour?"

The familiar words- the ones from their first date- make rage boil in his core. "Oh, go burn in the worst levels of hell!"

He doesn't stick around for a reply, twisting in a tight circle and ripping a hole into the Realms. He ignores Wayne's call of his name; it's too late- fifteen years too late- and shifts back into Phantom.

He prays he never sees that deadbeat again. Or the family his wife gave him. Not that Danny cares; it's been years, and he could care less what Bruce Wayne and his stupid kin got up to.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Bruce, I say this with all my heart, what the fuck was that?"

"That was the one I let get away."

There is a moment of silence before Damian speaks up. "I demand to be taken out of my misery. Mercy, kill me now, Drake."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Danny Fenton's ex #Part 1 #spirit halloween #Bruce fumbled Danny #Ghost king who is more other then human #Danny was just vibing before the bat clan came swinging #Damian mistook him for a villian #his siblings were trying to save him #Danny is stronger but they gave him a good fight #Bruce misses Danny

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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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A Much Needed Interview (OP81)

(Part 2 of Teen Dad) Summary: After the shock of Oscar revealing himself to be a former teen dad, he joins an interview in the hopes of clearing everything up and limiting the overwhelming amount of questions he has been getting.

“Oscar, it is nice of you to sit down with us. I know it has been an interesting few weeks for you and your family. How are you guys all doing?” The interviewer asks.

‘Yeah, y’know, I had expected to one day have to open up about it all, but I never thought I’d have to do it the way I did. It has been fine, obviously my kids are young enough to not be impacted because they aren’t on social media, but it has been strange for my fiancée who is now getting hundreds of requests on her private account. I have sort of decided to take a break from social media because the response has been overwhelming and like none before. Mostly positive but I think a few people have gotten the wrong idea so I was hoping to clear everything up.” Oscar rambled. He was more nervous about this interview than any he had done before.

“Of course. Why don’t we start at the beginning, how did you and your fiancée meet?”

“We actually met at one of my races. She went to support one of her close friend’s brothers. After the race that I sadly didn’t do too well in, I saw her with her friend and I was kinda frozen in my spot, immediately head over heels. Sadly, it seems like everyone but her noticed. I was too scared to do anything so I just watched her leave. I think I sulked for days, totally regretting my decision to do nothing. A totally heartbroken 16 year old. I looked for her every single race until she finally came back a few months later.”

“Oh please tell me you finally got the confidence to shoot your shot.”

“Nope! I just stared at her and stuttered when she caught me looking then ran off. I then had an amazing race, I think part of me was just trying to make up for the embarrassment and luckily it seems my car got the memo. After the race she came up to me and asked for my number.” God, he was blushing profusely at the memory. He knew he would be getting slack for this for a very long time.

“Such a story! The young Oscar Piastri was no ladies’ man.”

“He was absolutely not. Soon after we started dating.” Oscar awkwardly laughed, sensing what was about to come up.

“And then kids came shortly after?” The interviewer asked with care in his voice, certainly able to sense Oscar’s change in attitude.

“Yeah. Uh, obviously not planned. I don’t think many people plan to become parent’s at 18. It was a shock… I didn’t handle it the best at first, something I think I will always regret. She was scared and while so was I, I should have been more supportive. I was embarrassed for a while. Felt like a total idiot. I didn’t tell anyone outside of my family and made them swear to secrecy. I also began to isolate myself from friends because I couldn’t bring myself to tell them but also felt terrible lying. A few months in I finally snapped myself out of it and began to focus on all the wonderfulness that was to come. I loved her more than anything and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t already imagined a life together in great detail. By the time we found out it was twins, a boy and a girl, I was ecstatic.”

“Well mate, I don’t blame you for your feelings. I definitely would have been a terrible father at 18 so I salute you.” The interviewer joked.

“Honestly, I had the same thought for a while, even when I was excited to have kids. I had so many doubts about it, I mean how could I not? But when it came down to it, I couldn’t afford to be anything less than a great father. Of course I had my moments, and still do years later, but I wouldn’t be able to let myself be anything less than I am. If you love your kids enough, you find a way.”

“How did having kids so young impact your career? Obviously it didn’t hurt it too much considering you are in your second year driving in Formula 1.”

“Well, I decided I wouldn’t advertise my situation unless a team was very serious about me. Prema knew, Alpine did too and of course McLaren does. All were welcoming and accommodating, as much as they could be. I don’t think I would have gone with any of them if they weren’t cool with it though. I realized the minute my kids were born I would give it all up for them, which scared the hell out of me.”

“That is admirable. All these years later you are still with their mother, correct?”

“Yes! I asked her to marry me over break. Everyone close to us had been confused as to why it took so long but we had discussed marriage together many times and made the decision that because our relationship moved so fast with having kids so young, we would wait a bit. I mean, we are still young but I honestly couldn’t wait any longer. She is everything to me and the most wonderful mother my kids could have.”

“Have your kids been around the paddock yet? I assume they are old enough to understand what you do.”

“They have been to the factory and come with me to meetings when we haven’t had a sitter for them. Luckily, they are both very well behaved in public, they also really like watching the races on tv and have somewhat of an understanding of what I do. They don’t believe I actually drive the car though.” Oscar rumbled. Trying to convince his twins that yes, their father actually does drive the cars they see going super fast, has been an ongoing issue. They seem to believe he is tricking them but have no problem believing Uncle Logan and Uncle Lando drive the cars. It has definitely humbled him immensely.

“Well you will have to fix that soon huh? Will they be attending races in the future?”

“I am trying to work that out with my fiancée actually. They are almost four so we don’t want them traveling too far, I also don’t believe they will be able to be entertained solely by the race the entire time so we have a lot to deal with. But I think seeing them on the paddock supporting me will be one of the best moments of my life. I selfishly can’t wait for them to come.”

The interview wrapped up shortly after that. Getting to reminisce on the start of his relationship and how far they have come and how many wonderful things are in the future put Oscar in a deliriously happy mood. He couldn’t wait to get home to his family.

Walking through the door, he was immediately welcomed to the sound of toddler meltdowns. Fully entering the house, he saw his very tired fiancée rubbing her face as she tried to calm her babies down. Clearly this had been going on for a while.

Despite how upset she looked, she immediately perked up at seeing Oscar had returned. But that immediately went away as she remembered the screaming kids and how messy the house and herself were.

“Sorry honey, I know you are probably so tired after the interview and meetings earlier and these two missed their nap so they are so cranky and I just-” He cut her off with a kiss. Once he pulled away she looked at him, perplexed. A kiss from Oscar was never unwelcome but it was the last thing she expected at that moment.

“Hey, look at me.” He said as he put a hand on her cheek. “I love you and our little family so much and you never, ever have to apologize for something as trivial as this. Why don’t you go get in the bath and relax a little and I will try to wrangle these two, okay?”

In her eyes, Oscar had never been hotter than he was now. Now it was her turn to surprise him with a kiss, even more passionate than the first. They would have continued if it hadn’t been for more screaming from their two kids.

Still, Oscar wouldn’t change a thing.

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #op81 fluff #op81 imagine #op81 x reader

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empresskylo · 8 months

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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water.

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go.

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep.

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained.

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves.

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly.

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that.

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price.

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon.

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building.

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this.

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair.

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in.

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing.

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream.

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall.

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing.

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought.

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind.

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound.

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone.

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you.

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic.

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering.

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack.

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell.

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him.

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat.

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan.

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body.

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you.

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare.

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them .

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came.

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise.

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in.

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before.

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction.

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself.

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory.

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support.

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time.

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin.

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time.

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful.

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life.

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well.

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you.

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements.

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all.

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast.

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever?

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him.

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inkskinned · 8 months

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nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.

gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.

oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.

but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.

sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.

greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.

okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.

here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.

people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.

you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.

pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.

#i personally think having any of these desires is totally fine. it's when u use them to hurt others #it's why having ambitions =/= greed: as long as ur ambition isn't ''i hope i can take someone elses good things''#writeblr #warm up #seven deadly sins

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phenphoenix · 3 months

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Husk and nifty up next! They are a bit harder since their personalities aren't explored as much. However I still had fun thinking about what to do with them!

In this AU I’d say that husk never was an overlord. Since we don’t know much about nifty and Al’s relationship, which I’m going off of for the sake of this AU, I’m just gonna say that Charolette helped husk in a time he needed it and thus made a deal with him. His personality is also a bit of a shot in the dark as well because that too doesn’t have lots to go off of. But if I had to guess I’d say that husk at his core is a caring person, and can see through any facade. So in this AU *Husker* has those same traits, but with that more silly and slightly sadistic tone that Nifty has.

Nifty or rather Niff. Is basically just Nifty with that grumpy old drunk vibe husk has. And as for backstory I’d say that she was an overlord. And made a deal with charlotte to save her power. But instead of a gambling issue, maybe it was more of an obsessive behavior. Which is something shown in the show. Anyways this obviously backfired and she now works as the bar tender of the hotel. I’ll draw it eventually but the actual bar doesn’t change in size. Instead she just has this goofy stool she uses.

Now since this isn’t a like total swap and Al was still the radio demon at one point that made me wonder if I wanted it to still be his deals the two are under. But I’m on then fence about that because he would likely free their souls. Not wanting to force them to help like how he does in the show. So I figured why not have it be Charolette? It would make sense for the AU being a swap and all, and also give more depth to her overall. I have some more ideas regarding her and Al but I’ll do it in a separate post.

Full image

MASTERPOST

#my art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel swap au #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel nifty #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin #art #the hart hotel

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tswhiisftteedr · 4 months

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Wings ☆ Drabble/Really Short One Shot

☆ Adam x Wingless Angel!Fem!Reader :

They were just so pretty, you couldn’t help but touch your boyfriend’s beautiful golden wings. And hey, what was the worst that could happen’ probably nothing too bad, right?

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Praise & Degradation, Adam is a bit condescending and forceful, but hey, it’s Adam we’re talking about. Oral Sex(Female Receiving), Penetrative Sex, First Time As A Couple. NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 2330

Ask: Hi! ^^ Omg I saw that your requests are open!! I have one for Adam from Hazbin Hotel. I have a headcanon that his wings are very very sensitive and when you touch them it drives him crazy. Could you please do a Nsfw/ smut headcanon, or scenario with him and his female S/O just hanging out, him eating and she gets curious and touches softly them (not knowing what the affect it)? I hope you have a beautiful day!

Note: Of course!! And thank you, hope you also have a beautiful day/night!! Thanks for the request, right now I’m going to work on my others lol. Hope you like what I wrote!!

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Ever since your ascent to Heaven post-mortem, a sense of exclusion lingered in your heart. Unlike most heavenly beings with wings, you were one of the few soul that lack that part of the brand new heavenly anatomy. While everyone in Heaven remained kind and courteous, the infrastructure, were obvious designed for winged inhabitants. That posed you quite the challenges, especially when you where in need of transportation— the lack of automobiles was your greatest nemesis in the afterlife, as everyone effortlessly soared using their wings they didn’t need them.

Despite a subtle feeling of inferiority, your fascination with wings endured. Their majestic allure captivated you, and the desire to experience the softness of the beautiful contraptions persisted. ‘You just had to feel them!’

And you were determined to do so today, as you had received an invitation from Adam to come over.

Currently, you find yourself enjoying takeout on the expansive balcony of his penthouse. It was nice scenery, a comfy outdoor couch with a coffee table full of food.

As he rambled about his day, you nodded along, your attention solely fixed on the captivating golden wings adorning his sides and back. Sneakily inching closer to him, captivated by their beauty. “—Anyways that chick had a huge rack,” He pauses to take a bite of his burger, “So I guessed even Karen ass bitches can be hot.” he finishes with gulp.

Then you finally had a hold of them, ‘his marvellous wings!’ You were engrossed at their exquisite softness, surpassing any feathers from animals you had ever touched. Lost in the delicate material for about a solid five minutes, it had than dawned on you that Adam had stopped talking. Looking back up at him, you notice he had dropped his burger on the table. Then when you glanced at his face, you noted that he looked ‘different’, if you had to describe it, his face almost looked feverish.

In a blink, you were flipped onto your back and hit the couch cushions, then one of Adam's hands pinned both of your hands above your head.

“Fuuuck, babe! You don't need to get so handsy just because your jealous, you could've just fucking said so instead of acting a little tease, feelin’ me up and all.” He informs you while staring down at your perplexed expression, because, while Adam talked dirty in general, you had no idea what you had done to be a tease in this particular situation.

While that question spun in your head, Adam moved closer to your ear, his words jolting you out of your thoughts.

“if you were feeling needy, you just had to speak up. You know I would never leave my girl hanging, especially if getting her little brains fuck out is what she wants.” His voice low, full of desire and malice. He then playfully nip at your ear, ‘now who was the tease again?’

“Wait what— Um, Adam, where is all this coming from?!” You speak up, clearly nervous as a result of your boyfriend's statements and how close your bodies were together.

“The fuck you mean? You started this shit.” He begins, slowly sliding his free hand up your thigh. “Getting in my personal space, touching my wings to get me riled up, are you really gonna play the clueless card now you slutty little thing.” His hand now reaching under you shirt. “Think you can mess with me and just act like nothing happened, huh?” He says as he fondles with one of your breast.

“What do mean get you riled up, I barely touch you!?” You speak out anxiously; this was going far beyond anything you had done before. You two would kiss passionately at most, never doing anything remotely close to, 'well this!' It was strange; he almost acted like he did when he was mad, but this was somewhat different.

"Bold lie for an angel, like you wouldn't know— Oh, riiiight, you don't have wings." It had now dawned on him that you were utterly clueless of the affects the soft petting you gave to his wings had on him, and how depraved it made him feel.

"Yeah. I am not sure what I did to you when I touched your wings, but let me make one thing clear: it was unintentional. Seriously, they seemed soft, and I wanted to know how nice they were to the touch. So I'm sorry for making you mad; I should have asked before touching them.” You explain.

"Aww babes, don't worry, you didn't make me mad, and I'll tot's forgive you,"

You briefly relax as he speaks, well that is, until he opens his mouth again.

"Yeah I'll definitely forgive you if take care of my raging hard on for me'." He emphasised his words by grinding himself against you, making you feel his erection, and oh boy! Was he big; his self-appointed title of 'dickmaster' didn't seem so baseless anymore.

Your heart races faster as you feel a wave of panic wash over you. Despite his words, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about the situation. It was a big milestone to you, ‘the first time the two of you would have intercourse’.

You squirmed slightly, attempting to break free from his hold due to nerves but soon realize it was futile with him pinning your hands above your head. "I... I'm not sure that—," you started to say, but before you could finish, he cut you off.

"Shut up and enjoy the ride, babes." He growled softly, taking advantage of your momentary hesitation to quickly roughly kiss your lips. His tongue thrusts aggressively into your mouth, demanding entry while his other hand continues cupping your breast, squeezing and groping roughly. His erection presses harder against your thigh, digging into your sensitive flesh.

Despite your initial protests and confusion, you can't deny the familiar thrill coursing through your veins. You knew better, yet you still arch into his touch, moaning softly against his rough treatment.

As a warning to quit your shifting around, Adam's grip tightens around your wrists, almost painfully so, causing you to whimper in discomfort mixed with arousal.

And when he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing is heavy and labored.

"You like it, don't you?" He asked, his voice low with desire. His hips rock back and forth, grinding against you harder, making sure you felt every inch of his member. "Admit it, Y/N."

"A-adam, please... I—," you pleaded while being out of breath, but your words were cut off by another deep kiss. His tongue forced its way past your lips, exploring your mouth hungrily yet his hand didn't stop its manhandling of your chest. Meanwhile, his cock throbbed painfully against your thigh, leaving a trail of precum on your clothes.

The sensation was too much for you to handle; despite your original nervousness, the thoughts of messing up or not being enough had dissipated, and you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him anymore. You wanted him and he was totally into you.

Plus your body responded to his touch in ways you didn’t expect it to, it was incredibly in tune with his wants. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as he continued his assault on both your body and mind.

Suddenly, Adam pulled away, his breathing heavy and short. "Good girl," he praised, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now, spread those legs for me."

While being aroused, you still reluctantly spread your legs wide apart, letting him take off your shorts and exposing your wet panties. "Please, Adam," you whimpered, unable to resist his advances any longer.

With a growl of lust, he ripped off your remaining clothes, revealing your naked body to him. His eyes devoured every inch of you—your stomach, to your hips and obviously your beautiful pussy. Without further ado, he leaned forward, his mouth descending upon your navel, tracing slow, hot lines with his tongue before moving lower still. "Mmmm, you smell so fucking good toots," he murmured against your sensitive flesh.

His hands trailed downwards too, cupping your thighs in his palms, squeezing and kneading them. Soon switching to one free hand and one holding down your legs, inching his face to your then and lapping at your heat.

“Adam, what in the heavens are you doing!?"

“Uh, trying to eating you out, pretty obvious babes”

"Yeah, I get that, but like, why?? You always complain about 'bitches being annoying for demanding you go down on them.' when you mentioned passed relationships"

"Oh yeah, I did say that lmao. Honestly, I just feel like it. You look so pathetically adorable; I couldn’t help myself."

“Did— did you just lmao out loud?”

“Do you want me to stop eating you out with all your interruptions.” He threatens.

"No! I mean, I'm alright. Please continue."

"That’s what I thought too, babes," he grinned around your wet folds, sucking and licking at your sensitive spots. His tongue traced along your cunt, flicking against your clit before returning to tease your entrance again.

You moaned softly, your hands grasping tightly onto Adam's horns as he continued to pleasure you. You arched into him, letting out a soft whimper when his long tongue brushed against your G-spot. "Mmmhmmm... More please..." you managed to mutter between heavy breaths.

He chuckled lightly against your sensitive flesh before pulling away slightly. "Alright, alright." With renewed vigor, he returned to his task with even more enthusiasm, sucking harder and faster on your clit while his fingers teased her opening. He could feel your wetness increasing rapidly, seeping down onto his hand.

Your body trembled and shook in response to the intense sensations assaulting every inch of your being; you were close now—very close. Your breathing became increasingly shallow as she fought the impending orgasm building up inside of her. Then finally you reached sweet climax.

Adam momentarily let go of you to undress himself, now cock in hand."Tell me you want it," he demanded between kisses to neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin.

"I... I do," you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible above your heavy breathing.

"That's my girl," he purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction. Without warning, he thrust his cock deep inside you, filling you completely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as the unfamiliar yet familiar feeling washed over you. His thrusts were fast and hard, pounding into you relentlessly. Each powerful stroke brought forth a moan from your throat, mixing with his growls of pleasure.

Your body adjusted quickly to his size, accommodating him easily despite initial discomfort. You arched your back against him, meeting his rhythmic thrusts. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—it hurt, but in the best possible way. Your chest bounced with each powerful thrust.

As Adam continued to ravish you, his fingers found their way between your legs, rubbing and massaging your sensitive folds. He teased and tormented your clit mercilessly, causing waves of intense pleasure to ripple through your core. After staring at your lower half for a minute, “I should totally get my name tatted on you, like a crotch tattoo or some shit.” he tells you in his usual goofy tone, yet the look behind his eyes seem to say that he wasn’t completely joking. You on the other could only cry out his name between ragged breaths, begging for more.

“That's it, you filthy little whore," he murmured between labored breaths. "Tell me how much you love this, slut." His pace picked up even more, slamming into you harder and faster than before. Your moans echoed around the room as he relentlessly claimed your body.

In response to his demand, you managed to choke out, "I... I love it!" Your voice cracking with desire, filled with honesty despite yourself.

"Good girl." He growled, picking up speed. His hips slammed against yours in a brutal rhythm that left you gasping for air. His fingers continued their relentless assault on your sensitive spots, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. As a reflex you grabbed at his back, well in this case, his wings.

And that action fucked with him so bad. So Adam bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark that would later turn into a pretty obvious hickey. Blood trickled down your skin, but it only served to heighten your arousal. "Cum for me, babe," he groaned, his voice hoarse with lust. "Let go, don’t think too hard about it"

You were close, so close to the brink of orgasm. The constant barrage of stimulation was too much for your body to handle, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "A-Adam... I'm..."

"That's it, baby," he encouraged you, his words thick with desire. He increased the pace even more, pounding into you relentlessly.

With a loud cry, you release around him, your pussy contracting tightly around his cock as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over you. Your entire body shook with the force of your climax, and sweat trickled down your body, mixing with his saliva and cum.

Adam groaned in satisfaction, following suit moments later, filling you up with his hot seed. Panting heavily, he lifted his head to stare into your eyes, his gaze filled with lust and satisfaction. "That was fucking amazing, shit, that’s why your my fav."

After momentarily going inside to get cleaned up, you had returned to the balcony.

“Shit my burger is cold!” Adam bitches.

“Well what did you expect it was left on a table while being outdoors— Oh, shit, did someone-?” You begin, than the realization of the what just happened hits Locke a truck.

“-Hear us? Yeah most likely, but doesn’t really matter, they won’t do shit about it, well probably.” He says followed by a laugh.

Sometimes you wondered why you were dating someone so irresponsible, but after today, you did have another bullet point to add to your pros list. ‘The dick was good’

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