#that I didn't even know was still sailing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andreafmn · 12 hours ago

Text

Requite | Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: When everything seems to fall into place in Forks, Washington, a string of mysterious deaths call the attention of both vampires and werewolves in town. As the redheaded vampire returns with her mind set on revenge, (Y/N) and Bella Swan find themselves in the center of danger once again. With secrets still lingering between them about their past best friend, they will find themselves stuck in a whirlwind of love, betrayal, and the hardest choices they’ll have to make. But one thing is certain: no one will go a day without a taste for vengeance.

<- Previous

“I transferred some money into your account,” Charlie said as he fussed over his daughter's jacket. “I also put some cash in your purse in case you guys get too hungry.”

“Dad, I’m not five,” (Y/N) chuckled. “And we're just gonna go out to find a dress. We'll be back in time for the party.”

“Well, I know. I just want to make sure you girls have everything you need,” he said. “And I want to make sure you're feeling okay about the talk you're gonna have with your sister.”

Right. The talk. The week had come and gone faster than (Y/N) could have anticipated, and somehow the weekend had arrived. (Y/N) was ready to tell Bella everything, but she wasn’t quite ready for the aftermath. She wasn’t ready for pity, sadness, or concern. Hell, she didn't even want anger. All she wanted was to be done with the situation. “I think I'm good,” she smiled, trying her best to calm her father's worries. “After talking to you and Billy, I'm ready.”

“Well, I'm glad, sweetheart,” Charlie sighed, hugging his daughter tightly.

“You ready to go, (Y/N)?” Bella asked as she sauntered down the last stairs. “We got a bit of a drive.”

“Yeah, just done.”

“Alright,” she said. “We'll call when we're done, dad.”

“Be safe, girls,” he said before placing a kiss on the top of both their heads. "And grab some breakfast, alright? Make sure you eat.”

“Yes, dad,” Bella chuckled. “We'll see you later.”

“Alright, see you soon,” he said as they walked toward the door. “Love you, girls.”

“Love you, too,” they yelled back.

The dynamic between the three Swans had shifted for the better. For the first time in a long time, they were vocal about their appreciation for each other. They had become a unit and less of three ships navigating the same sea. Finally, they were sailing together. Even if it was only for a short amount of time, they were a unit.

“I'm thinking we could grab a bite at Granny's Diner,” Bella said halfway into the drive. They had been sitting in comfortable silence. Biding their time to see who would speak first. “They have some outside dining, and it might be the best place to talk. Unless, you know, you wanna do it now.”

“I'll wait for the restaurant,” (Y/N) answered. “Don't really feel like talking about life before I've gotten some food in my stomach.”

“It won't change the story,” her sister shrugged. “We could save ourselves an hour of coffee sipping.”

Truthfully, (Y/N) wanted to wait until they were in a public space to avoid Bella turning the car around and killing Jacob herself. She could sense her sister was itching for the truth, unravelling under the weight of all the theories her mind was coming up with, and none of it would ever compare to reality. The moment she found out, there was no telling how she would react. “I just need the time to compose myself,” she said. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” her sister smiled, reaching over to take her hand in his. “I just don’t want any more secrets between us, (Y/N). I want the rest of this year to be better. For you. For me. For us.”

“I want that, too, Bella,” she replied. “We deserve calm for a while.”

Quiet and calm were, of course, a mirage in Forks. It never lasted long, and it normally meant something big was lurking around the corner. But for a few more hours, even a few more days, they could pretend or believe it could be their future. A world where they were simply two girls, one on her way to college and the other buying her first prom dress.

Thirty more minutes of background music, and the odd nod-off from (Y/N), and Bella was parking across the little diner. There was only one table outside, as though the very universe had conspired to make everything just right. Truth was making its way into the light, and after that day, nothing would ever be the same.

The sisters took a seat and ordered promptly, nursing two mugs neither girl seemed too interested in. Procrastination ran in Swan veins, and they were experts at beating around the bush instead of getting to the point. But that morning, Bella would not tolerate it.

“Okay then,” she said, finally taking a small sip of her tea, “what did Jacob really do?”

(Y/N) sighed deeply, spinning the spoon inside her coffee with too much milk as she braced herself to tell the story. Hopefully, for the last time. “Where do you want me to start?” the girl asked. “From the very beginning, or what Edward and Paul were talking about?”

“From the start,” Bella responded. “I need to know everything he's done to you, (Y/N).”

And, once more, the younger Swan detailed the horrendous couple of months she spent alongside Jacob Black. She started with the good things. Because there were some, even if she could count them in one hand. There had been the crush she had harbored since she was a kid—the fluttering in her chest when she heard his name, the heat that rushed through her body when she was able to be near him, the happiness the idea of being with him brought her. There was the moment she saw him when she came back to Forks—the moment everything had rushed back, the joy and excitement of being in his arms for even a second. And there was their first kiss. Everything was so small in retrospect, but they were moments that had meant the world to her in the past. They were part of her history. She could never deny that.

Still, there was an evil that undermined any of the sweet words, the warm kisses, and the fulfillment of a lifelong wish. And it didn't take long for that dark side to take over. (Y/N) told her sister about the sly and insulting comments he would throw her way, and how good he was at making her feel like she deserved to hear them. Told her about his misconstrued concern for Bella, how he could derail every single one of their conversations with her. She spoke of his belittlement, of his gaslighting, and his unachievable ultimatum.

During all of this, Bella remained quiet, her grip on her mug getting tighter the more her sister talked. She wanted to give (Y/N) the space and time to let everything out, scared that if she spoke up, her sister would close up and hide the rest. As hard as it was, she had to bite her tongue to get the truth. The whole truth.

“After I couldn't get Embry out of the pack, he stopped calling and coming over,” (Y/N) continued. “That's when you and he started hanging out again. Well, you already know that part. When we went to his house, and everything went down, he wanted us to get back together, but I wasn't sure I wanted that—not anymore. Still, he kissed me, and I didn't know how to say no.”

Bella's jaw clenched, but instead of talking, she nodded to her sister to keep going. “He was different then, but so was I,” she sighed. “I didn't feel anything for him, and still, I tried to find what I felt for him in the past. But it was gone, and everyone was telling me to leave him. “I tried many times, but something always happened that didn't let me,” she chuckled dryly. “Until the night after we almost drowned. I was telling him the truth, that I didn't feel the same about him, and I had to let him go. He didn't like that.”

She told Bella how Jacob had only wanted to get close to (Y/N) just so he could get closer to her, how he only tried to fix things with her because Bella had wanted that. Then, he told her how Paul was still keeping things from her, that he was lying right to her face. “I couldn't handle it, and I took off running,” (Y/N) sniffled, feeling tears welling in her eyes as she remembered the moment. “I don't know how long I was running, I just knew I had to get as far away as I could from his house. My legs were burning, and I could barely breathe when I suddenly tripped over a raised root and fell. “I was all alone in the forest. Until I wasn't,” she said. Her hands trembled around her cup, the liquid inside rippling as her nerves took over her body. “Victoria found me.”

“What?!” Bella exclaimed, unable to contain her worry. It dripped from her words and splattered on her face, her hand reaching for her sister's instinctively. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't know how without telling you the whole thing,” (Y/N) replied, her voice cracking as the tears started to fall. “She was close to killing me. She said she wanted to kill me to hurt you, that somehow my death would hurt you and make it better when she killed you. “I was sure that was it. Victoria had her hands around my throat, even slicing into my skin.” She raised her head slowly, revealing the scar that still remained at the top of her neck. “I passed out before I could see anything else, but Paul found me. Sam and Embry joined him later, and they helped him run her out of town. I was asleep until after Harry's funeral.”

“Oh, (Y/N).”

“That's not the worst part, Bells,” she sighed, squeezing her hand to ground herself. “When I was ready to go home, Embry came around and told us something we didn't notice. While Victoria was attacking me, Jake was there.”

“W-what are you saying, (Y/N)?”

“While Jacob was on patrol with Embry, he let visions slip from the night before,” she recounted, her chin trembling with every word. “He was running to the woods after he left you at home. He was angry, Embry said. That's when he happened upon Victoria attacking me. He could have stopped her. At least, scare her long enough for reinforcements to come. Instead, he stayed hidden, watching as she took my life. He'd said it was because he thought if I died, your grief would push you to find comfort in him.”

The older girl remained silent, anger building inside her like a volcano about to erupt. She could see why (Y/N) had decided to talk in a public space rather than in the car. Her veins itched with the need to get back in the car and yell at Jake until her voice was hoarse, hit him until her hands shattered into a million pieces. She wanted him to hurt for all the pain he had put her sister through.

"I wanted to tell you right after it happened, but Alice was there,” the girl sobbed. “You had something more important to get to, and I couldn't stop you. After that, I couldn't find the courage to tell you the truth. I spent days stewing in what I allowed to be done to me, and I felt like an idiot. Something inside me kept telling me that telling the truth would make me look stupid, so I just kept quiet. “And then I found out how everyone had turned on Jake, and I couldn't help but feel responsible,” she continued. “I didn't want to ruin the last relationship he had by telling you the truth, too. So, I kept it to myself and hoped he didn't say anything.”

“(Y/N), there is no one more important in my life than you,” Bella croaked, her throat feeling tighter as her sister continued to talk. “I'm sorry I couldn't see how much you were hurting. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm just sorry for not being the sister you deserve.”

“No, Bells, you have nothing to be sorry for,” the girl said. “I made the decision not to tell you, okay? And I wasn't alone. I had Paul to help me, and dad and uncle Billy. You had your own problems to deal with. I mean, just with the whole vampire thing...”

“(Y/N), you almost died, and I had no idea,” Bella said, tears falling from her eyes. “I could have lost you, and I didn't know. My friend left you for dead, and I didn't know. You came out all this way for me, you almost died, and still you were looking out for me.”

“It's not like I really helped you,” (Y/N) chuckled softly. “I mostly complained to dad about you. If anything, it's Jacob that got you out of this rut.”

“You're wrong,” Bella smiled. “It was you.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm serious,” she said. “Jacob and I mostly talked about you, (Y/N). You knew that going back to Florida would kill me, and instead of letting mom drag me back, you left your life behind and came here for me. I know I haven't said it, and I didn't quite show it when you first came here, but I was so relieved when dad said you were coming to Forks. You're the reason I pulled myself out, (Y/N). Not Jacob. Not Edward. You.”

(Y/N) wanted to argue, but Bella stopped her before a word could leave her mouth. “I know you don't believe me, and you find it difficult to take a compliment,” she chuckled. “But even if you did complain at the start—which I don't really mind—you still showed me that I would be okay without Edward. There are other people out there who love me enough to drop everything and be there for me. You're why it stopped being hard to be here.”

“You're giving me too much credit, Bells,” (Y/N) said, feeling her face grow warmer as the seconds passed. “But I'll take it, nonetheless. I'm glad you're better.”

“And I'm glad you're alive,” she smiled. “And when we get back, I'm killing Jacob.”

The younger girl choked on her coffee at her words, scaring the waitress who had just arrived with their plates. The poor woman left with a red face and a heart that was probably hammering against her chest. Laughter erupted between the Swan sisters, hoping the server didn't hear the last bit of their conversation.

“You can't kill Jake, by the way,” (Y/N) whispered as they started on their food. “I told you everything so we could lay it all to rest. I don't want anyone to go after him to get revenge or whatever. I just want that nightmare to be over. He's had a reckoning of his own creation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Sam's been giving him extra patrols,” she said. Part of her was debating telling Bella what had occurred the weekend before, knowing it would only make her sister's anger grow. But she had promised the whole truth, and Bella was the only person she didn't want to keep things from—not anymore. “He's been sleeping in his garage, too. Billy barely talks to him. And, well, Paul is always just one word away from killing him.”

“How do you know he's sleeping in the garage?”

“Uh, well, when I dropped off Paul last weekend, I went by Billy's to talk to him,” she explained, her eyes focusing on anything but Bella. “As I was leaving, Jake showed up and asked me to talk.”

"(Y/N),” Bella reprimanded.

“He was basically trying to convince me not to talk to you, and he got a bit forceful.” Before Bella could complain or react much, (Y/N) shut her down. What she wanted most was to show her sister that she could handle herself. That the girl she was now was stronger than the one who had arrived to help mend her sister's broken heart. “He just grabbed my wrists, but I freed myself. He was trying to make everything my fault again, but I shut it down. And I am 100% sure he won't even come near me ever again.”

Bella kept quiet for a second, thoughts flashing across her eyes like a blazing fire. “You know, I could probably get Edward to kill him,” she whispered. “Get him out of the state, and poof.”

“Bells!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “You can't joke about something like that. And you can't leave Paul out of it either.”

Both sisters erupted into a chorus of laughter once more, pretending the plan was only a funny quip to pass the time. Maybe she was imagining it, but (Y/N) felt the air around them get lighter. Now that everything was on the table, the dark cloud that seemed to hang above them dispersed and only bright and sunny skies were forecasted ahead—as sunny as it could get. It had been years since either Swan had been hopeful for the future, but at that moment, anything they dreamed of was possible.

But they forgot about the world they lived in.

Once they were done with their food and had apologized to the waitress with a hefty tip, the girls started their walk toward the dress shop. “So,” Bella said, linking her arm with (Y/N)'s, "what color were you thinking for the dress?”

“Well, Paul's favorite color is red,” she said, trying to keep her smile small. “I was thinking of something in that realm.”

“That's a good start,” Bella laughed. “Are you gonna go short or long?”

“Long, I think is best. It is his senior prom.”

“I wouldn't know,” she sighed dramatically. “I didn't go to mine.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't have gone to Italy to rescue your vampire boyfriend,” (Y/N) teased. “Thankfully, mine is more into fistfights than dramatic spectacles.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bella chuckled sarcastically. “He's my ex, by the way. Better get that clear.”

“And is he gonna stay that way?”

“Oh, look,” Bella exclaimed. “We're here!”

The shop was smaller than other stores (Y/N) had been to, but compared to anything in Forks, it had quite the selection. As soon as they stepped inside, they were inundated with sequins and satin, beads and lace, and rows upon rows of fabric. It was slightly overwhelming, and they were completely underqualified for the task, but they had to start somewhere.

Twenty minutes in, and (Y/N) was ready to throw in the towel. There were many red dresses—long, short, slim, puffy. It was more than she could ask for. But none of them called to her. Bella pulled dress after dress, sticking her arm into the overflowing racks and showing her sister options, but none seemed to be the one. They knew neither of them was particularly adept in the fashion department, but the girl at least knew what she liked, and nothing quite fit the bill.

“You have to pick something, (Y/N),” Bella sighed, her arms growing sore from the gowns she had been holding. “At least, try them on. They might look different.”

“They’re just not right,” she complained. “I want to look good.”

“I know, but…” Bella’s words died in her mouth as her eyes fell on a figure across the street. They were unmistakable and stood out like a sore thumb. “What is Alice doing here?”

(Y/N) swiftly turned around, her eyes falling on the vampire who sat on a bench on the other side of the store. She held a newspaper over half of her face in a failed attempt at concealing her identity, but she couldn’t hide everything else. From the clothes to the hair, to the big designer sunglasses that hung on her nose. It was Alice Cullen, and it could be no one else. “Is she following us?” the girl whispered. “Did she hear about our plans?”

“I don’t know,” she answered as she put the dresses back on the rack. “But I intend to find out.”

A/N: in my head, Bella at least lands a good punch on Jacob that doesn't break her hand. but finally she gets to know everything, hopefully nothing else happens. hahaha... right? 🫣 If you’d like to be tagged in this or any other story: click here Make sure you have my notifications on so you know every time I post!

Taglist: @lepetitlu @galactict3a @eddiefrickenmunson@stvrrlighttt@gh0stgurl@g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r @nj01 @damnedangel98 @eneywey @estherr80 @sl-ut @jesperwolfly @cupidisdeadworld @ricekrisbris @hannie-kim2109 @awakwardnesshabitat @emberowl @kytthenluiza @supersillywilly @eir964 @beau0-0 @jemssafespace @luxurvitae @midnightheat @alixxhere

25 notes · View notes

artificial-absinthe · 11 months ago

Note

Crazy, how you ask for understanding and end up being slightly vilified by the entitled ppl who are too lazy to litteraly tag a post...

Btw great point with ooc tag. I'd also love it. I'm just scared of rebloging your post as it seems whenever you want personalization, you may be seen as queer fobic and the worst evil, while it's just a preference to see the canon. Like litteraly ppl don't get that if they'd start making Megatron in green colours just because they like it, the ooc tag would be nice too.

But of course it's a gender thing so ppl will get offended... and I'm saying this, being in favour of your post, and being fuken queer... It's just sad, cause it's always going to the "oh consider xyz because we feel offended" while the op requesting this may be the nicest ally or queer themselves. But because their bubble is touched, they can't understand that they pierce your bubble as well, in the end turning into the conservative thinking of "I'd not tag my post, cause my idea is more important, or it makes me happy, so fuck you I'm free citizen, and allowed to do what I want"... and then they try to say, they are the opened, inclusive ones... while their thinking is litteraly the same as those, they oppose. It's just funny to me... how ppl just can't take a simple, kind request... they need to go balistic on both sides over it, as I'm also disapointed with those who just ran to harras the person... they are also guilty of asshole type of thinking... It's just sad how even in seemingly progressive place, there are still so many "conservative thinking" assholes...

Eh sorry for the long ramble. Just wanted to tell you, that you're not alone with this thinking. Just wanted to let u know, even that I know you'd say you don't care if someone agrees or not. But still, thank u for this post. Maybe it will change something for the better despite countless idiots who can't take a request like a civilised human beings...

No need to apologize at all. You absolutely understand it all and make very accurate and relevant points, and I totally agree with you.

I didn't even knew that this was still going. I figured some people had, though begrudgingly, accepted to use a tag, and some others would flood the Megatron tag with their occ content without a tag to filter out of spite (exactly with the mindset that you described), because people speaking ill of me doesn't even come to tell me directly, perhaps because they know I genuinely won't be affected by their hate and misplaced adjectives, and so I only know of this when someone else tells me.

On the other hand, while I do not crave for understanding, it's very nice that the people who agree with me voice it, because this request and pointing out is not only for me, but also for everyone else who is tired of the OCC thing flooding the content about a character.

Indeed, you are not the only one who has said this to me, and even before I made that request I had held conversations about how people was tired of it, but also feared voicing it because they, like yourself, were wary about getting the "queerfobic" hate. Which is no more than a shield that people abuse of whenever someone disagrees with their headcanons or anything else. That way they make themselves to be "on the right" and rally sympathizers to share their grudge with and attack the ones disagreeing with them. Which is a very unbecoming thing to do, and I wish they just acknowledged the reasons for what they are. (In this case, not everyone likes mischaracterization/Occ content. Period)

Thus, I decided to be the one to voice it, but it would be good that all the anons and people agreeing with me in private would do it publicly, without being haters themselves as some had been (which was counterproductive, actually), because that way it could be taken seriously and only for what it is... Perhaps... hopefully.

Of course I'm not saying that I don't appreciate that you say it also like this, since I understand that not everyone can be as cold as myself.

#Absinthe replies #About the...#Megatron #Tfp Megatron #Request for a tag in cases (or any other character)#that I didn't even know was still sailing #Thanks anon

4 notes · View notes

featheredframingdevice · 3 months ago

Text

*slams hands on desk* paintings of saints staring at their mortal peers with passive aggressive judgement WHEN

enough paintings of saints where they're looking heavenward in ecstatic agony or down with love and mercy on their onlookers as they ascend. we need more paintings where the martyr is looking accusatorily directly at the viewer.

#the internal conflict #like the emotional kind rather than the schism kind #but that too i guess #inherent in the entire concept of saints fascinates the fuck out of me #there's the bet-hedging of 'yeah obviously god loves us and whatever but just to be safe we'll pray to a specialist'#that alone has so much resentment and fear wrapped up in it that it's WILD #then there's the way that sainthood kind of undermines what makes jesus special #like yeah he's on a different level and all but it turns out a TON of people can perform miracles #and you have to pull off three to even be a saint!#like okay this is for the sake of buying into the bit rhetorically #but the idea that there could be people who pulled off one or two legit divine miracles but didn't quite hit the mark as saints #is such a brain-breakingly huge fuck you to normal people while simultaneously taking the wind out of jesus' sails??#like yeah if you tried harder you could be inhumanly special too but even buying into the core conceit it's a functionally impossible bar #i know the point isn't that people should seek sainthood #but you KNOOOOWWWW that's the vibe for so fucking many people #and even if it weren't! that's STILL the goalpost that people will set for other people!#idk i lost the plot somewhere along the way here but man the whole idea that there's this huuuuge gray area #between entirely divine and entirely mortal #and you'll never know where you are on that scale and you're worse off for prideful speculation but also for not pushing for divinity #is some practically calvinist damned if you do damned if you don't shit #and it's hilarious to me to picture saints as people who nailed the balance between full-throated piety and tacit holier than thou vibes #like the idea that someone is surrounded by people who are like 'yeah peaseblossom over here--'#i had to use a shakespearean fae name because it was the only way to be sure i wasn't naming a real saint #'--is sooo devout. rubbing our noses in it all the time.' a #nd someone else is like 'omg mustardseed stfu; we all know she's literally going to be a saint someday.'#and peaseblossom walks by like 'oh hey ladies i didn't see you at 5am mass today' with her i'm not like other girls vibe fully on display #idk man it's just funny to me #ffd comments #ffd tags #religion

15K notes · View notes

itmightrain · 3 months ago

Text

The thing about gay sailors in the Victorian era is that England and America had totally different takes on it. In the british navy they could, and did, literally kill men for having consensual relationships with other men. But in the US navy, even tho John Adams literally copied England's naval regulations when making America's version, he chose to leave out every proscription against sodomy. And no one knows why!!! England was like hmm yes the death penalty and America was like i dont really see how thats my business. And like gay American sailors could still be charged with things like "uncleanliness" or "indecency" (charges that were vague enough to cover a lot of different things) but bc it wasnt specifically forbidden in the regulations "the commanding officers [were given] wide discretion to prosecute, punish, or ignore."*

And by and large US officers seem to have ignored it. We literally have the records of every flogging (the most extreme form of punishment allowed during these specific years) onboard a naval vessel for the years of 1846-1848 and almost all of the cases that involved homosexual activity "unambiguously refer to male/male homosexual activity involving attempted assaults on children, not consensual couplings between adults."* There are also multiple recorded instances throughout the Victorian Era of an American sailor coming forward with a charge of sexual assault and pulling in other sailors or even officers as witnesses who tell their captain yeah i totally saw them and didn't say anything until this sailor told me it was nonconsensual. There are even records recorded by naval recruitment officers of men with extremely explicit gay tattoos being allowed to join the navy. Why did the US navy not care enough to even include it in the regulations while the British navy literally hanged men for it??? Were we so hard up for sailors that John Adams was like bitch we need every gay sailor we can get????

And weirdly enough this was true on American Whaling ships too! In the recorded cases where homosexual activity led to sailors being disciplined (in some cases punishment so mild as just being dropped off their ship at the next port) it was usually in situations where rape was involved and/or there was a high degree of ship disruption related to it (guys getting into a public knife fight for example). Idk I just think thats so interesting especially when America and England were so similar to be so different in this particular area is fascinating

*quotes from Unruly Desires: American Sailors and Homosexualities in the Age of Sail by William Benemann

#why did john adams think sodomy in the navy was a-okay???? did he not think americans capable of sodomy? did he have gay sailor friends????#us history #queer history #naval history #the terror #william benemann

5K notes · View notes

killerplink · 3 months ago

Text

DEVOTION

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Plot: A fight with Jason gets heated—sharp words, stubborn tempers, neither of you backing down. But when the tension snaps, it turns into something else entirely. Something raw, desperate, and messy.

Words: 10k

The apartment door slams behind you both, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet space. Your heels clack against the hardwood as you stalk toward the bedroom, too pissed to even look at him right now. Jason follows, his heavy boots thudding after you, that cocky swagger in every step even though you're very clearly fuming.

"Are you really gonna be mad all night?" he asks, tone half lazy, half exasperated.

You whip around so fast your hair flies over your shoulder, finger already pointed at his chest. "Yes! Jason, I swear to God, you're fucking impossible!"

His brows shoot up, that infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth. "What'd I do now, doll?"

"What'd you do? Are you serious?" You step closer, eyes flashing, and jab a finger into his chest. "You almost started a fight at the restaurant! Over nothing! Just—someone bumped into me, and suddenly you're ready to crack skulls like you're still some street kid with nothing to lose, except you have everything to lose, Jason! I have everything to lose!"

That softens his smirk, just a little. But it doesn't disappear, not entirely. "Baby, I had it under control."

"No, you didn't!" Your voice breaks on the words, frustration and fear tangled up too tight in your chest. "You never have it under control when you get like that. You stop thinking. It's like you don't even care what happens to you."

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You're bein' dramatic."

"Oh, fuck you." You turn away, arms crossed tight, nails digging into your own skin like you can hold yourself together if you just squeeze hard enough. "I'm not being dramatic, Jay. I'm scared. Every time you act like your life doesn't matter, it scares the shit out of me because your life does matter. To me."

That knocks some of the wind out of his cocky sails, but true to form, Jason Todd never backs down that easily. "I can handle myself, baby. I've been in worse fights before you even knew me."

"And maybe that's the problem!" You spin around again, hands flung wide. "You're so used to throwing yourself into danger like you've got a death wish, you don't even think about the people who love you, who have to watch you do it. Who have to fucking wait and hope you come home in one piece."

His jaw clenches, that sharp edge of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. "I came home tonight, didn't I?"

"Barely! If Dick hadn't dragged you out of there—"

"—I would've walked out just fine on my own," he cuts in, voice hard, like he's this close to losing his temper too.

You both stand there, breathing hard, anger seeping through every pore. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, anger and fear and love all tangled into a knot you can't untie. And goddamn him, even now, with his blood still running hot from almost throwing down, with that cocky little glint still in his eye—he looks good. Messy hair, jaw clenched tight, that black shirt stretched over his broad chest, his hands flexing like he still has adrenaline to burn.

You want to shake him. You want to kiss him. You want to scream until your throat hurts.

Jason exhales, slow and heavy, like he's trying to ease some of that heat out of his chest before you both say something you can't take back.

"Baby," he says, quieter now, "I'm fine."

Your throat closes up. "For now."

He takes a step closer, hands sliding to your waist, fingers curling into your dress. "I'm not goin' anywhere, pretty girl."

You shake your head, eyes stinging. "You can't promise that."

Jason sighs as he leans down, forehead tipping against yours. "What do you want me to say, huh? That I'll never lose my temper again? That I'll play nice and walk away every time some asshole gets in my face? That's not who I am."

"I know," you whisper. "But it's who I wish you could be. Just for me."

That hits somewhere deep, somewhere tender he doesn't let many people see. But instead of softening, Jason leans into the heat instead because that's how he knows to handle fear, with fire.

"C'mere," he mutters, dragging you into him, arms wrapping tight around your waist. "You wanna fight with me? Do it right here, baby. Get it out of your system."

You shove at his chest, and he catches your wrist, twisting you into him like a dance, his breath warm against your ear.

"Or," he says low, voice all gravel and heat, "you can find a better way to work out all that attitude."

"Fuck off," you snap, but it's weaker now, your anger unraveling into something messier, hotter.

He chuckles, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "C'mon, pretty girl. You're pissed, I'm pissed, and you're standin' here looking like that." His hands slide down, grabbing your ass hard through your dress. "We both know exactly how this night's gonna end."

Your breath catches, nails curling into his chest again, not pushing this time, just holding on.

"Still mad at me, baby?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He grins against your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. "Let me make it up to you."

Your hands land flat on his chest, shoving him back, catching him off guard enough that he stumbles two steps out of the bedroom. And before he can say a damn word, you slam the door right in his stupid, handsome, reckless face. Not locked, just shut, because locking it feels too final, too mean, and you're pissed, but not that pissed.

Jason stares at the door for half a second, then his forehead drops against it with a low thud, and he knocks his head against it once, twice, just hard enough to feel it.

"Fuck."

He didn't mean to ruin the night. He never means to ruin shit when it comes to you. But the moment that asshole's hand brushed against your ass—innocent or not—it flipped a fucking switch in him. And maybe that's fucked up, maybe he's got a million unresolved issues tied to losing everyone he's ever given a shit about, but you?

You're his. His girl, his future, his everything, and seeing someone else's hand anywhere near you sends him spiraling into that ugly, possessive part of himself that only you've ever managed to soften.

And yeah, maybe the guy didn't mean it, maybe it was just a crowded restaurant and accidents happen, but Jason's not the kind of man who plays it cool. Not when it comes to you. Not when he loves you so much it hurts sometimes, sitting right there under his ribs like a bruise he can't stop poking.

He presses his palms to the door, wishing he could just rewind the whole night—go back to you looking so pretty at the restaurant, all smiles and soft touches, letting him steal kisses between courses. You'd been happy. And then he fucked it up. Again.

Inside the bedroom, you sit on the edge of the bed, fingers curled into the sheets, trying to hold back the sting in your eyes. You won't cry—you won't—but your throat's tight, and your chest aches, and the night feels like it's unraveling right between your fingers.

Tonight was supposed to be fun. It's Tim's fucking birthday, for God's sake. The restaurant had been beautiful, the food actually good for once, the atmosphere soft and warm with all your friends laughing and talking and teasing each other.

And then some random guy brushed past you on his way to the bathroom, bumping your hip, and Jason went feral. You love that he's protective—God, you do—but Gotham is full of crazy assholes, and you don't want him starting a fight with someone who might pull out a gun and blow his brains out over a misunderstanding.

The thought makes your stomach churn, fear sliding ice cold down your spine, and you have to shake it off before it eats you alive. You stand, fingers reaching behind you to unzip your dress, and it slides off your body in a whisper of fabric, pooling at your feet. And that's when you catch your reflection in the mirror, and yeah, no wonder he couldn't keep his hands off you all night.

The lingerie underneath? It's not the kind you wear every day. This is the good shit—black lace and thin straps, sheer panels teasing the curves of your tits, a matching thong barely covering anything, thin enough to show just how wet you already are.

Because for all the shit he's pulling tonight, Jason's still your hot ass, broad shouldered, cocky as hell boyfriend, and your pussy? She does not hold grudges.

You're still mad. You still wanna shake him until his teeth rattle. But you also want him to fuck you so hard you forget why you were even mad to begin with.

You sigh, tug open the bedroom door, and march straight into the living room, chin high, steps confident even though your knees are still a little weak from all that adrenaline. And, yeah, maybe from how fucking good he made you cum this morning.

Jason's slouched on the couch, head tipped back, hands dragging down his face, and when he hears your footsteps, he looks up, and freezes.

His eyes rake over you, slow and dark, tongue darting out to wet his lips like his mouth's gone dry. "Jesus Christ."

You cross your arms under your tits, pushing them up just a little higher. "What? Cat got your tongue, big guy?"

His gaze flicks from your face to your tits to the sheer lace stretched over your hips, and the way the thin strip of fabric between your legs is already dark with how wet you are.

"You're tryin' to fuckin' kill me," he mutters, half to himself, half to you.

You cock a hip, all attitude, even though your pulse is hammering. "Thought you liked a challenge."

Jason pushes up from the couch, moving slow, shoulders broad and tense, every line of him saying he's holding himself back—barely. "You're still mad at me."

"Furious," you agree.

"And you're standin' there looking like that."

You glance down at yourself, trailing a finger over the top of your bra, down the center of your stomach. "Yeah. What are you gonna do about it?"

He's on you in two steps, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other grabbing a handful of your ass, yanking you flush against him. "Gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, baby."

"Promises, promises."

He kisses you hard enough to steal your breath, hands already roaming, already tugging at the straps of your bra, already ready to tear you apart and put you back together again, but you're faster. You grab two handfuls of his shirt, spinning him around and shoving him back onto the couch. He goes down without a fight, grinning like the cocky bastard he is, because you both know you can't actually budge him unless he lets you.

But fuck, does it turn him on when you try.

Jason sprawls into the cushions, legs spread, hands braced on his thighs like he's daring you to climb on top of him, but instead, you drop to your knees between his legs. His whole body tenses, chest rising slower, breath catching because you—all pissed off, all attitude, all tits spilling out of that black lace bra—are kneeling right there, looking up at him like you're about to ruin his fucking life.

And for once, Jason Todd has nothing to say.

You reach for his belt, slow and deliberate, dragging the leather free of the loops with a sharp tug, and you swear you see his fingers twitch. He's already getting hard, already pressing against the front of his jeans, already so fucking easy for you.

The buckle clinks as you undo it, popping the button next, tugging the zipper down with a sound that seems louder than it should be. And then you pull his jeans and boxers down just far enough to free his dick, and—fuck.

He's so fucking big, already thick and flushed, veins standing out along his length, and a bead of precum clings to the slit, catching the low light. Your pussy throbs on sight alone, clenching around nothing, still sore from the last time he was inside you.

Jason's hand lifts, fingers reaching for the back of your head—because of course he wants to grab your hair, guide your mouth, fuck your throat—but you slap his hand away, sharp and quick.

"No touching."

He freezes like you've just short-circuited every thought in his head. "What?"

"No. Touching." You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, giving him one slow, punishing stroke, twisting your wrist just the way he likes. "You wanna act reckless? You wanna scare the shit outta me? You wanna start fights over shit that doesn't matter? Then you can sit there with your hands to yourself while I handle this."

Jason's jaw clenches, shoulders tight, every muscle in his thighs twitching, but he obeys. Barely. His hands grip the edge of the couch so tight his knuckles go white.

You lean in, licking up the underside of his cock in one slow, wet drag, ending with a kiss to the tip that leaves your lips shiny with precum. "You're such a fucking idiot, you know that?"

"Yeah, baby," he rasps, voice already rougher. "I know."

You pump him slow, fingers squeezing just right, thumb swiping through the slick at his tip before you slide down again.

"What if you got yourself shot tonight, huh? What the fuck am I supposed to do if you get yourself killed because you can't stand someone breathing in my direction?"

"Fuck." His head tips back, throat flexing, cock leaking even more into your palm.

"Who's gonna love me the way you do? Who's gonna fuck me if you're dead, Jason?" You squeeze his dick just to see his hips jerk. "Who else knows how to ruin me like you do?"

"Baby—"

"No. Don't talk." You flick your tongue against the tip, barely a taste, before you sit back on your heels, jerking him slow and mean. "You don't get to talk, you reckless, possessive, stupid fucking man."

His abs tighten, hands still white-knuckling the couch, and his cock twitches in your grip, a fresh bead of precum sliding down the side. "You love that I'm possessive."

You glare up at him, lips curling. "I do. But not when it puts you in danger, asshole." You kiss the tip again, softer this time. "Not when it makes me scared I'm gonna lose you."

Jason's breath stutters, and you see it. That crack in his tough guy armor, the one only you ever get to see. But you don't let him soften.

Not yet. Instead, you drag your tongue along the underside of his cock again, pumping him faster, twisting your wrist just right, watching his thighs tense and his hips fight not to thrust up into your mouth.

"Keep your hands there," you murmur, voice all sweet and mean at once. "And maybe—maybe—I'll let you cum down my throat."

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

His head falls back, a bead of sweat sliding down his neck, and you know you've got him right where you want him.

Jason yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, not even bothering with unbuttoning it, because if you're gonna make him suffer, the least he can do is give you something to look at. And fuck, do you look.

Your hands rest on his thick thighs for a second, gaze dragging over every inked inch of him—the dark ink across his chest, the jagged lines along his ribs, the script down his arms that you've traced with your tongue a hundred times before. He's so fucking hot, all muscle and attitude, sprawled out, dick rock hard in your grip, glistening with spit and precum.

"Enjoyin' the view?"

His voice is pure gravel, but there's a waver in it, like he's already hanging by a thread.

"Shut up."

You lean in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock again, tracing that thick vein with the tip of your tongue until you reach the head, circling it slowly before you take him into your mouth, lips stretching, jaw aching already, but you don't stop. You never stop.

He's too fucking big, he always is, but you try anyway, sinking lower, feeling the weight of him press against your tongue, the blunt head nudging the back of your throat.

"Greedy little thing," Jason mutters, hands twitching, and you see it. The instinct, the need to grab your hair and fuck your throat until you're crying.

But you slap his thigh sharply. "I said no touching."

"Baby—"

"No."

You sink back down, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him deep until your throat spasms around the fat tip, gagging. Tears prick your eyes, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, but you fucking love it. Love the way his thighs tense, love the way his dick jumps on your tongue, love how fucking desperate he looks.

Jason's chest heaves, fingers curling into fists at his sides. "You're evil."

You hum around him, the vibration making him swear under his breath, and you pull off with a filthy pop, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his cock before you drag your tongue up the side again.

"Yeah? And what's that make you for loving it?"

"Completely fucked."

You grin, all teeth, and take him back into your mouth, bobbing your head faster, sucking him down until you gag again, drool dripping down your chin, slicking his cock even more. Your thighs press together, your pussy throbbing, panties soaked through. You can feel it, the sticky mess between your legs, the ache in your cunt, the way your body needs him, no matter how mad you are.

Jason groans, deep and low, and you glance up at him through wet lashes, seeing the flush on his chest, the tension in his jaw, the muscles jumping in his stomach. He's so fucking close already, you can tell, and every time he tries to lift a hand, you slap it back down, keeping him helpless beneath you, all that strength and power completely useless unless you let him use it.

"Baby, please." His voice cracks, and it's the hottest fucking thing you've ever heard.

You pull off one more time, stroking him fast and messy, your spit slick hand gliding easily along his length. "Please what?"

"Please lemme touch you."

You shake your head, licking up the underside again, tongue teasing his slit before you suck the head back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks until his hips buck, just once, just enough to choke you again. You swallow hard, tears sliding down your cheeks, and his dick throbs so hard you can feel it on your tongue.

"Be good," you murmur around him, voice muffled and obscene, "and I'll let you cum."

Jason's head falls back, a broken groan ripping from his throat, and you know you've got him. You sink back down, taking him as deep as you can, lips stretched tight around the fat width of his cock, spit and precum slicking your chin as you work him with all the devotion you can muster. What you can't fit—and there's always part of him you can't fit—you stroke with your hand, fingers gliding over the thick base, your palm sticky with drool and his slick.

Your tongue works the head, lapping up every drop of precum he leaks, tasting that salty, addictive tease of what's coming, and you fucking love it. You flick your tongue against his slit, suck gently on the sensitive tip before you sink down again, sucking hard, cheeks hollowed so tight your jaw aches, but you don't fucking care.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Jason groans, his voice wrecked, head tipped back against the couch, muscles tight like he's holding himself together with sheer fucking will. "You're perfect, baby. Mouth so goddamn good—fuck, you always know how to suck me just right."

The praise makes your pussy clench hard, heat flooding your belly, and you double down, bobbing your head faster, working him with both your mouth and hand until your throat burns and your jaw trembles. Every time you pull back, you leave a messy trail of spit and precum glistening along his length, but you dive right back in, tongue swirling around the head before you take him deep again.

"Look at you," Jason breathes, his voice low and rough. "So fuckin' pretty like this. My perfect girl. You love this dick, don't you?"

You hum around him, the vibration making his whole body twitch, and he groans so low it vibrates in your chest. You pull back just enough to gasp, "Love it, Jay. Best fucking dick I've ever had."

"Yeah?" His grin is sharp, dangerous. "Then show me, baby. Show me how much you love it."

Challenge fucking accepted. You take him deep again, swallowing around the head, ignoring the gag reflex that flares up as you press lower, working him into your throat until your nose brushes the skin at the base of his cock. You gag again, spit bubbling past your lips, but you don't stop. You fucking love how heavy he feels on your tongue, how thick and hot and perfect he is, filling your mouth like he was made for it.

Jason's fists clench at his sides, his whole body trembling with restraint. "So good for me, baby," he mutters, voice cracking with it. "So fuckin' good. My pretty, filthy fucking girl. Takin' me so deep—fuck, 'm gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill that perfect mouth."

You moan around him, and that's it. His hips jerk, cock swelling, and then he's cumming, thick ropes of cum spilling across your tongue, hot and salty and so much, it makes you whimper as you swallow, throat working hard to take it all.

He always cums a lot, his balls emptying in pulse after pulse, and you keep sucking, milking him through it, letting every drop slide down your throat until your belly feels warm with it. His cock throbs against your tongue, so sensitive it makes his hips twitch every time your tongue flicks over the head, but you don't stop until you know he's completely spent.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, voice rough and almost shaky. "Gonna kill me one of these days."

You pull back slowly, licking your swollen lips, wiping the mess from your chin with the back of your hand, and grin up at him, all fucked-out satisfaction. Jason pulls you right into his lap, and you gasp, hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself.

His hands slide down to grab your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, grinding you down against his cock, still hard and slick with your spit, and you moan when you feel the thick length press up against your soaked lace panties.

"Fuck," Jason mutters, dragging you along his cock again, feeling how drenched you are even through the lace. "That pretty pussy misses me already, huh?"

"Jay," you murmur, voice soft, needy, and when you lean in, he catches your mouth in a kiss—hot, messy, all tongue and teeth, licking into you like he's starving for your taste.

He groans low when he tastes himself on your tongue, dirty and possessive, and you whimper into his mouth, hips moving on their own, grinding down against him, chasing friction.

You break the kiss to breathe, forehead resting against his, and your fingers stroke the hair at the nape of his neck as you whisper, "Do you love me?"

Jason's hands flex on your ass, holding you tighter, and his voice is low, earnest when he says, "You know I do, baby. Love you so fuckin' much."

You lick your lips, eyes dark with want. "Then fuck me like you mean it."

His eyes flash—something feral, something wild, and before you can say anything else, he's moving, standing up with you in his arms like you weigh nothing before he lays you down on the couch, his jeans and boxers kicked off in one rough move. He kneels over you, hands already tugging your bra down until your tits spill out, and he doesn't even bother unclasping it before he's on you.

"Love these tits," he mutters between kisses, licking over one nipple, sucking it into his mouth before letting it go with a wet pop. His tongue flicks over the other, sharp and teasing, before he closes his lips around it, sucking hard until you gasp and arch into him. "So fuckin' pretty, baby. Could spend all day suckin' on these."

You tug at his hair, breathless, moaning when he drags his teeth over your nipple, just the right amount of rough. He leaves a trail of messy hickeys down the curve of your tits, marking you like the possessive asshole he is, and you swear your pussy gets even wetter from it.

He kisses down your stomach, hands already hooking into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down just enough to get access to you. "Love this body," he murmurs, licking over the waistband before kissing your hipbone. "Love this pussy. Love you, baby."

You whimper, spreading your legs instinctively, and he groans at the sight of your panties clinging to your soaked folds, the lace darkened with how wet you are. His fingers trace along the edge of the fabric, barely touching you, just enough to make your thighs twitch in frustration.

Then his tongue flicks out, teasing you through the fabric, just the lightest drag of warmth over your clit, and you jolt, hips twitching up, chasing more.

Jason hums, amused, as he pulls back, blowing cool air against the damp spot where his tongue just was. "So fuckin' wet for me already," he mutters, voice wrecked, his breath hot against your cunt.

His fingers slide down, pressing against the soaked lace, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit, just enough to make you ache but not enough to satisfy.

Your hips stutter, desperate for more friction, but he doesn't give it to you. He presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his scruff scratching at your sensitive skin, and then, another flick of his tongue, this time firmer, tracing over your clit through the thin barrier of lace.

"Jay—" Your fingers tighten in his hair, trying to pull him closer, but he only chuckles, the vibrations making you tremble.

"You love this, don't you?" His voice is thick with hunger, fingers still rubbing slow, teasing circles over your clit. "Love bein' all messy for me, panties soaked, beggin' for my mouth..."

He leans in again, dragging his tongue over you, pressing the fabric against your cunt, making it cling to every swollen, aching inch of you. Then his teeth close around the lace, tugging just enough to make you feel it before letting go.

Your thighs tremble, your body desperate for more, but he just keeps playing with you, running his tongue along the slick fabric, soaking it even more, his fingers pressing right against your entrance, but never giving you what you need.

"Jason—" you whimper, pushing up against his mouth, but he only smirks, pressing another teasing, barely-there kiss over your clit.

"Patience, pretty girl," he murmurs, eyes dark, voice rough.

He finally hooks a finger into the crotch of your panties, pulling them aside to bare you to him, and then his mouth is on you. Hot, wet, tongue sliding through your folds before fucking into you, slow and deep, licking you open like he's savoring every drop.

You moan his name, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his big hands grab your thighs and hold you open, spreading you wide like he's got all the time in the world to devour you.

"Keep 'em open, baby," he growls, voice muffled between your thighs. "Wanna see this pussy when I eat you."

He fucks you with his tongue, nose brushing against your clit, and every time you try to roll your hips or squirm away from the intensity, he holds you down and just keeps going, messy and obscene, spit and slick dripping down to the couch beneath you.

Jason groans into your pussy, the sound vibrating against your clit, and he sucks. Soft at first, just enough to make you gasp, before he latches on and really sucks, lips wrapped around that sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue flicking against it, over and over, relentless.

"F-Fuck—Jay—" Your voice is all breathy, wrecked, your fingers pulling at his hair, but it only spurs him on.

He hums again, mouth still latched to your clit, and then drags his tongue down, lapping at your folds, hot and messy and so deep you feel it in your gut. He groans like he's starving for you, like he could live off this alone, tongue pushing inside again, fucking you slow and deep before dragging up to swirl around your clit.

And then he does it again. And again. And again.

His hands squeeze at your thighs, holding you open, keeping you spread, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into your trembling skin, soothing even as his mouth drives you insane.

"You taste so fuckin' good, pretty girl," he rasps against your soaked cunt, his lips slick, his chin glistening with your arousal. "Could eat you for hours."

He presses a soft kiss right against your clit before flattening his tongue, licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy, gathering every drop of slick before pushing his tongue back inside you.

You keen, legs twitching, and he groans into you, hands tightening, like he can feel you dripping for him.

"Goddamn, look at you," he mutters, breath hot against your cunt as he pulls back just enough to admire the mess he's making of you. "Drippin' down my fuckin' chin, baby—"

The wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on you echo in the room, filthy and desperate, and all you can do is whimper and take it.

When he pulls back just enough to suck your clit into his mouth again your whole body jolts, and he hums in satisfaction, eyes locked on you as your mouth falls open on a gasp.

"C'mon, baby," he murmurs against you, every word vibrating against your skin. "Cum for me. Wanna taste you."

It hits you hard, your back arching, thighs trembling in his grip as you cry out, body clenching tight before it melts into pleasure. You swear you see stars, the intensity making your head spin, and he groans low in his throat as he licks you through it, sucking every drop you give him, cleaning you up with his tongue like a man fucking starving.

He doesn't stop until you're trembling, oversensitive and gasping for breath, your hands tugging weakly at his hair, begging for a break. When he finally pulls back, his mouth and chin are glistening, and he wipes his face with the back of his hand, grinning down at you like the devil himself.

"Goddamn, baby," he mutters. "Tastes even better when you're mad at me."

Jason flips you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing, handling you exactly the way you love—rough enough to remind you how much stronger he is, gentle enough to show he'll never actually hurt you. And you already know what he wants, so you arch your back, pushing up onto your hands and knees, glancing over your shoulder with a bratty little smirk that makes his jaw clench.

His hands slide down your sides, slow, deliberate, before they settle on your hips, fingers digging in just to hear you gasp. Then he grabs the lace of your panties, tugging them down over your ass, baring your soaked cunt and the mess he already made between your thighs.

"Fuck," he mutters, palming your ass, squeezing and spreading you open to get a better look. "Always so fuckin' pretty back here."

The first slap lands sharp, making you jolt forward, your slick thighs trembling. The sting blooms hot across your skin, and you whimper, but it only makes you arch deeper, pushing your hips back toward him.

Jason watches, transfixed, as your pussy clenches around nothing, dripping slick onto his cock when he presses the thick head between your legs. He's still hard, precum leaking from the swollen tip, and you rock your hips, rubbing your soaked folds against him until he curses under his breath.

"Needy little thing," he grits out, guiding his cock to your entrance. "Can't even pretend you're not desperate for me."

He starts pushing in, splitting you open slow, and the stretch knocks the air from your lungs, leaving you trembling under him. "Oh, fuck—"

"Always so fuckin' tight for me," Jason groans, one hand stroking down your stomach, feeling the way your body stretches to take him. His fingers slip lower, over your clit, slick and swollen, and you shiver all over when he rubs slow circles over it. "Goddamn, baby."

You rock back, taking him deeper, moaning as your pussy clenches down hard around him. He curses, leaning over you, chest pressed to your back, and murmurs low in your ear, "You want me to fuck you like I mean it, huh?"

You nod frantically, words catching in your throat, and Jason groans, pulling back just enough to grab your hips, steadying you before sliding in deeper, bottoming out with one slow, brutal thrust.

He gives you a second, like he always does, letting you adjust because he knows he's big, knows he's a lot, and he loves you too much to hurt you.

But you're impatient, your body burning with need, so you glance back over your shoulder, panting, "Thought you said you loved me."

His jaw tightens, a flush spreading down his chest, and he growls, "I do."

"Then fucking prove it," you challenge, and that's it, the last frayed thread of his self-control snaps.

Jason's hips slam into yours, driving his cock so deep you see stars, and you cry out, fingers scrambling for purchase against the cushions. His hands grip your waist, holding you still so all you can do is take it, body jerking with each brutal thrust, wet sounds filling the room every time his cock splits you open.

Your cunt grips him like a vice, soaked and clenching around him, dragging him back in every time he pulls out, and the slick slide is so obscene, so messy, it only makes him fuck you harder. His hips snap against your ass, the slap of skin on skin echoing, and you bury your face in your arms, moaning his name like a prayer.

"Still wanna fucking die, you idiot?" you gasp between moans, glaring at him over your shoulder, and Jason groans, dropping one hand to slap your ass again.

"Shut up," he pants, driving in deep enough to knock the air out of you. "God, baby—you're so fuckin' wet for me."

"Because you're—you're so fucking stupid," you sob, half-scolding, half-moan. "What if—what if you get yourself killed, and who the fuck's gonna fuck me like this?"

"Jesus Christ," Jason groans, the filthy confession sending a sharp pulse of heat straight to his cock, making it throb inside you. "No one, baby, no one else is ever gonna touch this pussy."

He fucks you harder, deeper, grinding into you until you're shaking under him, toes curling, nails clawing at the couch. Every thrust punches little gasps from your throat, and you can't stop talking, can't stop scolding him even as he's fucking you stupid.

"You love me?" you pant, voice high and breathless.

"Love you so much, baby," he groans, leaning over you, lips against your ear. "Love you, love this body, love this perfect fuckin' pussy. All mine, baby. All fuckin' mine."

"Show me," you whisper, voice shaking. "Show me how much."

Jason's hips snap forward, hard enough to drive you into the couch, and you moan his name, cunt squeezing tight around him. "I'll show you, doll," he pants, sweat dripping down his back. "I'll show you exactly how much."

His hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, spreading your ass, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks tomorrow, and you'll love every fucking one of them. Each thrust is brutal, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, so slick with arousal and his precum that it drips down your thighs, making a mess.

"Look at this greedy fuckin' pussy," he groans, thumbs spreading you open wider just so he can watch. "Suckin' me in like you missed this dick."

"I did," you gasp, fingers clutching at the couch cushions. "But you're still a fucking idiot."

Jason grits his teeth, hips snapping forward hard enough to shove you up the couch, your knees scraping against the fabric. Your slick little cunt grips him tight, soft and warm and soaked inside, milking his cock every time he drags back just to slam back in. Precum leaks from the swollen tip, mixing with your slick, and every thrust pushes it deeper, making you feel so full you can barely breathe.

The couch creaks under both of you, the whole thing rocking with the force of his thrusts, and Jason can't tear his eyes away from the way your ass bounces every time his hips smack into you. Your skin glows, sweat-slick and gorgeous, and he can see the way his dick stretches you open, disappearing into your perfect pussy over and over again.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, almost to himself. "You're perfect. This pussy's fuckin' perfect."

"Damn right it is," you pant, pushing back against him until you're stuffed full all over again. "And if you get yourself killed, who the fuck is supposed to fuck me like this?"

That ticks him off just right this time. His hand shoots out, grabbing the back of your neck, not to hurt, but to hold, to control, and he hauls you upright, your back pressed flush to his broad chest. You gasp, legs shaking, the stretch of his cock inside you deeper, hitting that sweet spot that makes you cry out.

"Who said I was goin' anywhere?" he growls against your ear, hand sliding up from your neck to wrap gently around your throat. "You think I'd leave you, baby? Fuck no."

His other hand finds your tits, fingers tugging at the bra you still hadn't taken off, yanking the cups down completely so your soft skin spills into his hand. He palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, and you moan loud, head tipping back onto his shoulder.

"You love me?" you whisper, breath hitching with every thrust.

"You know I do," he pants, fucking up into you, hips rolling slow but deep, stuffing you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Then fucking show me," you challenge, rocking your hips down to meet him.

Jason groans, fingers tightening on your throat just a little, enough to make your cunt flutter around him. "I am," he mutters, mouth hot on your neck. "Fuckin' you so good no one else could ever touch you— no one else could make you this wet, this fuckin' messy."

He shoves you back down, face to the cushions, ass in the air, spreading you wide so he can see everything. Especially the way your slick pussy stretches around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls out, shiny with your wetness and his precum.

"Fuckin' shit, baby," he groans, watching his cock slide in and out of your perfect little pussy. "You're fuckin' drippin'."

"Because you're that good, asshole," you snap back, voice muffled by the cushions.

Jason slaps your ass hard enough to make you jolt, cunt squeezing down on him so tight his vision blurs for a second. "Yeah? Then why the fuck you talkin' so much?"

"Because you're a fucking idiot," you sob, back arching when he drives in deep. "You don't—you don't need to start shit every time someone looks at me, Jay. You're the only one who gets to fuck me like this, don't you know that?"

Jason groans, hands tightening on your hips as he slams into you harder, hips snapping, driving you into the couch so deep your knees nearly buckle.

"I know, doll," he pants, voice wrecked. "I know, fuck—I just love you so much, I can't stand anyone else even lookin' at you."

"Then—then fuck me harder," you gasp, tears in your eyes from how good he feels, how perfectly his thick cock fills you up, dragging against every sweet spot inside you. "Fuck me so good I can't even think about anyone else."

Jason yanks you up again, your back flush to his sweat-slick chest, his cock buried so deep you swear you feel him in your fucking lungs. His big hand cups your jaw, turning your face toward him, and he kisses you messy, tongue sliding between your parted lips like he's starving for the taste of you. It's sloppy, wet, both of you panting into each other's mouths, sucking on tongues, biting at lips.

You moan into his mouth when his free hand finds your clit, two fingers rubbing sharp, relentless circles over the sensitive little bud. It's too much, too fast, your cunt already stretched wide and soaked around him, every rub of his fingers making you clench down tighter.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, breath hot against your cheek, hips snapping up into you so hard you bounce. "You're so fuckin' wet—you're drippin' all over my dick."

His fingers don't slow down, and you can't do anything but take it, legs shaking, cunt squeezing around him, your swollen clit throbbing under his ruthless touch. The heat coils low in your belly, sharp and fast, climbing so high so fast it almost scares you.

"Jay—fuck—wait, I—"

Your hand flies down, grabbing at his wrist, trying to ease him off your overstimulated clit, but he's not budging, the muscle in his forearm flexing as he presses down harder.

"No," he growls into your ear, voice wrecked. "You wanted me to fuck you like I mean it? This is what that fuckin' means, baby."

His dick pounds into you mercilessly, every thrust dragging against your sweetest spot, thick and hot and leaking inside you, smearing precum along your fluttering walls. You're soaking him, so slick you can hear the obscene squelch every time he sinks in to the hilt as he rubs your puffy little clit.

Your whole body locks up, spine arching, mouth falling open as you cum so hard it knocks the breath out of you, that sharp edge of pleasure tipping you into freefall. Your pussy clamps down on his cock, tight and trembling, and Jason fucking moans, jaw clenched, hips stuttering as you soak his dick with wave after wave of hot, slick arousal.

But he doesn't stop.

"Gimme more," he pants, fingers ruthless on your clit. "C'mon, baby, you can do it, show me how messy you can get."

"Jason, I—fuck—fuck—"

Your thighs quake, eyes rolling back, and when he starts to slap over your clit lightly, it hits like a live wire—your whole body seizes, cunt pulsing around him, and then it happens.

You fucking squirt, hot and sudden, a slick rush spilling from your cunt, drenching both of you in a messy gush that soaks the couch, his thighs, your thighs—every inch of skin that's pressed together—leaving your pussy glistening, clenching around his dick as your juices drip down to the cushions. It's a mess you didn't even know you could make, and Jason loses it.

You both knew you could squirt when you were drunk off your ass, but this? This was all him. And you're both wrecked with it—you, boneless and trembling, him, harder than fucking steel inside you, completely gone for you.

"Holy fuck, baby," he groans, voice somewhere between awe and pure hunger.

Your whole body shakes, tears spilling down your cheeks from the sheer intensity, overstimulated to the point of pain-tinged pleasure, and Jason kisses you through it, swallowing your sobs and moans right from your tongue.

It's still so messy—hot, wet, open-mouthed, tongues licking into each other's mouths, tasting sweat and spit and you, and he groans deep in his chest like you're the best thing he's ever had.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked, fluttering cunt, so slick it's almost effortless, but you're still so tight, sucking him in greedily. His fingers finally ease off your clit, stroking instead of circling, soothing instead of torturing, but his kiss stays just as hungry. Desperate like he's trying to memorize your taste, the way you moan into his mouth when you can barely even catch your breath.

"Baby," he murmurs between kisses, breathless and tender and filthy all at once. "You're so fuckin' good for me. Love this pussy—love you."

Jason's lips break from yours, sliding down your jaw, over the curve of your throat, hot breath ghosting over your pulse before his mouth seals against your neck. He sucks hard, tongue flicking over the skin, leaving a bruising, sloppy mark.

And the whole time, his hips keep working, dragging his thick cock in and out of your soaked, swollen cunt, slow but deep, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl.

"Fuck, Jay—" you whimper, head tilting to give him more of your neck, hands clutching at his wrists, his arms, anywhere you can reach to steady yourself.

He hums low in his throat, all smug and wicked, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. "You want my cum, baby?"

You moan loud, nodding so fast it makes him chuckle.

"Of course you do," he murmurs, voice low and gravelly, kissing his way up to your ear. "This needy little pussy loves my cum, huh?"

"Yes," you gasp, writhing against him, trying to push back and take him deeper, to make him give it to you.

But he just teases, slowing his thrusts, dragging every inch out before pushing back in so slowly, letting you feel just how thick and hot he is inside you. "Thought you were mad at me, pretty girl."

"I am," you snap, but it's breathless, your earlier fire softened by the way he's fucking you so deep and slow, pulling every sound he loves right out of your throat.

"Yeah?" he smirks, tongue licking over your racing pulse. "Then why should I cum inside this perfect little pussy if you're still so fuckin' mad?"

"Jason—" you whine, pushing back harder, but his hand holds you steady, thumb pressing into your hip, controlling the pace no matter how desperate you are.

"Gotta convince me, baby," he taunts, voice all low and syrupy-sweet, fingers sliding down to your clit just to flick it, making you jolt and clench down hard on his cock. "Why should I fill you up, huh? Gimme one good reason."

"Because I need it," you gasp, fingers clawing at the couch cushions. "Need you to cum inside me, need to feel it—fuck—please, Jay."

"Need it?" He grins against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you yelp. "Sounds like my girl's not so mad after all."

"I am—"

"No, you're not," he cuts you off, fucking into you a little faster, just to hear the pitch of your voice climb. "You just like actin' tough until you're full of my dick, huh?"

You nod frantically, pride shredded, nothing left but raw, aching need. "Yes—yes—God, yes—please, Jay."

"Please, what?" His cock drags against your sweet spot with every thrust, his fingers circling your clit again, faster this time. "Say it, baby. Tell me exactly what you want."

"Want you to cum inside me," you sob, back arching, thighs trembling. "Want to feel it dripping out—want to be so fucking full of you, Jay, please—"

That does it. His grip tightens as he snaps his hips forward, fucking you deep, no more teasing, just hard, filthy thrusts, skin slapping skin, his cock driving into your slick little cunt until the wet noises echo louder than your breathless moans.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Gonna give it to you— gonna fill this perfect pussy up."

You moan his name like a prayer, clenching down so hard it makes him stutter, and then he's gone, hips jerking, cock throbbing deep inside you as he spills, hot and thick, cum flooding your pussy in pulse after pulse after pulse.

It's so much—the heat of it, the way his dick twitches inside you with every spurt, and fuck, you feel everything. The way his cock pulses, the way his cum paints your insides, so deep, so full, your body reacts before you even realize, pleasure slamming through you again, white-hot and all-consuming.

"Oh—fuck—fuck—"

Your whole body trembles, seizing up as you arch, as your walls clamp down hard around his dick, the overstimulation pushing you over the edge again, even sharper this time.

Jason groans, choked and wrecked, because he feels it. The way your pussy flutters, grips him like a vice, milking him, dragging out his orgasm as another thick pulse of cum spurts deep inside you.

"Shit, pretty girl—fuck—"

His voice is hoarse, breathless, hands locking onto your hips as he bucks up, rutting into you with slow, desperate rolls, like he's trying to fuck his cum deeper.

You're soaking him, your release gushing around his dick, slick dripping down to his balls, making everything filthy as you keen, breath hitching, body trembling. The pleasure is so much you can't stop shaking, can't stop gasping, every little twitch of his cock sending more sparks crackling through your limbs.

Jason groans again, deep and raw, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you right where he wants you, his cock still buried inside, still throbbing, even as his hips slow, his whole body shuddering against yours.

"Jesus Christ, baby—" He swallows hard, head falling forward against your shoulder, voice thick, half-slurred. "Damn near killed me."

But he doesn't let go. He won't. His arms curl around you, holding you close, keeping you locked against him, cock still nestled deep, even as his cum drips out, thick and hot, making a mess between your thighs.

You both shudder, your pussy milking him for everything, his cock twitching, still so sensitive it makes him groan low in his throat as he grinds against you, lazy and slow. You're so full you leak around him, creamy slick dripping down his balls, sticky and hot, smearing where your thighs press together.

It's messy, obscene, perfect, and he loves every second of it.

He kisses your shoulder, still panting, his hand sliding up your stomach to cup your tits, lazy fingers playing with one nipple. "Still mad, baby?"

"Maybe," you mumble, face buried in the crook of his neck, completely fucked stupid.

Jason's laugh rumbles low in his chest, warm and rough and just so him, his lips pressing to your temple in a lazy, affectionate kiss. "You're a terrible liar, doll."

His cock slips free from your fluttering cunt with a slick, obscene noise, your pussy clenching reflexively at the sudden emptiness, already missing him even with his cum still leaking from your swollen slit. It smears down your inner thighs, dripping onto the couch cushion below, and Jason watches it like a man obsessed, fingers tracing over the slick mess he made of you before finally easing you down against him.

You whine, soft and spent, but you don't fight it when he turns you gently, pulling your smaller body right on top of his, the perfect little puzzle piece to his broad, muscular frame. Your skin feels like it's buzzing, every inch of you overstimulated and tender, but his hands are so gentle.

Big palms soothing up and down your back, warm fingers tracing lazy circles along your spine. His lips find your temple again, softer this time, and the two of you just breathe, hearts still pounding, somehow falling into the same steady rhythm.

You nuzzle into his neck, breath warm against his skin, and for a while, the only sound is both of you catching your breath, bodies molding together.

After a long, quiet moment, Jason's voice breaks the silence—rough, hesitant. "I'm sorry."

You blink up at him, your face blissed-out and sleepy, limbs heavy, but you still reach up, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing gently over the scar there. His hand comes up to cover yours, his palm dwarfing yours as he lifts it to his mouth, kissing your palm, his lips warm and soft.

"I'm sorry too," you murmur, voice soft, but Jason just shakes his head.

"Nah," he says, eyes flicking up to the ceiling like it's easier to talk to that than to you. "It was my fault. I just..." he trails off, breath hitching slightly, and for a rare moment, Jason Todd looks nervous.

You wait, patient and quiet, until he finally sighs, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit. "I never had this kind of love before," he says, voice so low you almost miss it. "Ever."

Your heart aches, and you squeeze his hand back, silently urging him to keep going.

"And yeah, I don't—I don't know how to behave sometimes," he admits, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. "I know it's wrong to be so fuckin' possessive. To assume you're mine just because I want you to be."

"Baby," you whisper, brow furrowing, but he keeps talking, like he has to get it all out before he loses his nerve.

"It's selfish and stupid," he says, frustrated with himself. "But I just... I never felt this way about anyone before. And it's fuckin' terrifyin', but it's also the best goddamn thing that's ever happened to me."

Your chest aches, soft and warm and so full of love for this man who's only ever known how to fight for what he wants, and now he's fighting himself, just to figure out how to love you right.

You tilt his chin until he's looking at you again, your eyes wide and soft and just a little stunned, because yeah, Jason's softer with you, you know that. But this? This vulnerability, this naked honesty, this is rare. This is the part of him no one gets to see.

"What are you talking about, baby?" you whisper, thumb tracing his lower lip. "I'm yours. You don't have to doubt that."

His eyes darken, something vulnerable flickering beneath the heat. "Yeah, but—"

"No 'but'," you cut him off, leaning down to kiss him—soft, sweet, no heat this time, just love. "I am yours, Jay. You don't own me, but I belong to you. And that's my choice."

His arms tighten around you, almost crushing you to his chest, but you don't complain. You just melt into it, letting him hold you like he's afraid you'll slip through his fingers if he lets go.

And yeah, maybe your pussy's still throbbing, and there's cum dripping down your thighs, and you both reek of sweat and sex, but right now? Right now, all that matters is this.

You shift slightly on top of him, just enough to press your lips to his chest—soft, lingering, right over his heart. It's steady beneath your mouth, a quiet, strong beat that reminds you he's here. And you hold onto that, breathing him in as you kiss him again, even softer this time.

Jason's hand slides up your back, fingers weaving into your hair as he cups the back of your head, guiding you up just enough to press a kiss to your forehead. It's so gentle, so sweet, and your chest aches all over again, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

"I'm sorry I said I want you to change for me," you murmur, voice quiet and a little hoarse. "I didn't mean it like that. I just..." you sigh, fingers tracing idle patterns over his ribs. "I knew what I was getting into when we first met. I knew. And I thought that over time, it would be easier to just... I don't know... get used to the idea that one day you might not come home."

His hand tightens slightly in your hair, not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he's listening.

"But it's not," you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

"I know," he says softly, his lips finding your temple again.

You exhale, shaky and uneven, and your voice wavers when you say, "I just want you to promise you'll always come back to me. I can't lose you, Jason. You're the only person in my life I've ever loved like this, and I just... I can't—"

The words catch in your throat, and you almost sniffle, but Jason's already there, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze. And fuck, the way he looks at you—like you're everything, like you hung the goddamn moon—it almost breaks you.

He can't stand seeing you cry. Not like this. Crying because he fucks you stupid? Sure, any day of the week. But crying because you're scared of losing him? That kills him a little.

His thumb strokes along your cheek, brushing away the tears threatening to spill. "I promise, doll," he says, voice low and steady and so fucking sincere it hurts. "I'll always come back to you."

You nod, swallowing hard before you nuzzle back into the crook of his neck, letting his warmth wrap around you like a shield. His arms tighten around you again, holding you like you're his lifeline. And maybe you are.

And yeah, there's still mess between your thighs, and the couch probably needs to be burned after what you just did to it, but none of that matters right now. All that matters is this. Just you and Jason, skin to skin, hearts pounding in sync, holding onto each other like the world outside doesn't exist.

After a quick cleanup—you both do what you can with the poor couch, but honestly, there's only so much scrubbing that'll save it—you end up in the shower together, lazily soaping each other up with that vanilla body wash you love. Jason grumbles about how it's too sweet and not him, but the second you press your slick, warm body against his under the spray, he shuts up real fast.

Wrapped in clean clothes, smelling like dessert, you curl up on the couch, freshly dressed in one of his worn-out t-shirts that hangs off your shoulder and a pair of cotton panties. Jason settles next to you in his sweats, bare chested, all warm skin and ink as you tangle yourself around him like the needy gremlin you are.

A box of shitty pizza rests between you—a sad, greasy excuse for a meal, but somehow perfect for tonight—and some trash reality show plays in the background, the kind that makes you both question humanity.

Jason glances at you, his arm stretched around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. "So... we good?"

You roll your eyes, groaning dramatically, before leaning over to chomp a massive bite out of his slice, despite the fact you're already holding your own.

"You little brat," he mutters, shaking his head, but there's no real heat in it. If anything, the way he smiles at you—soft, warm, a little exasperated—makes your chest feel too small for your heart.

You just flash him a smug grin, mouth full of stolen pizza, and lean your head on his shoulder, sighing happily. "We're good, Jay."

And yeah, the couch will never be the same, and the pizza's objectively terrible, and the show's giving you both secondhand embarrassment. But with you curled into him, his arm wrapped around your waist, and your bare leg hooked over his thigh, Jason figures he might just be the luckiest motherfucker in Gotham.

1K notes · View notes

inkandapex · 3 months ago

Text

you're worth it

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Lando Norris and Y/N share an undeniable connection, but the pressures of F1 and personal hesitation have kept them in the "just friends" zone. Despite their close bond, an unspoken tension hangs between them, each moment charged with what-ifs. With a little nudge from fate, aka, their best friend Max, the two are pushed to give things another shot. Will Lando find the courage to make his move, or will Y/N slip through his fingers, forever just out of reach?

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: swearing, light angst, mentions of anxiety.

Lando’s season had been anything but smooth sailing. Sure, the car was leagues ahead of where it had been, delivering near-constant podiums and even his long-awaited first race win. He was sitting second in the championship, closer to the title than he’d ever been. On paper, it was a dream season. But pressure had a funny way of twisting even the sweetest moments into something suffocating.

Lando had always been good at managing the weight of the sport—keeping his mind sharp, his body stronger. But even the best-built machines showed signs of wear. His friends saw it in the way his laughter didn’t reach his eyes. His team noticed the uncharacteristic silence between debriefs. His fans, ever watchful, caught glimpses of something heavier behind the usual smiles.

Now, with a rare break in the chaos, it was clear that he didn’t just need rest. He needed reinforcements.

“The food I ordered half an hour ago? Yeah… they just told me the restaurant’s actually closed now,” Lando muttered

Max blinked, mouth slightly open. “So… they told you there’s no food, and you died on Tarkov? That’s a double fucking shitter, my jeez.” He dragged a hand down his face, visibly pained for his best mate.

Lando let out a defeated laugh. “Hasn’t exactly been the best couple of months for me, really.”

Max exhaled. “Mate, you need a personal chef or something. You’ve got too much on your plate.”

“I actually have nothing on my plate right now, funnily enough.”

“Right, well—eating weeks-old frozen food from your fridge isn’t exactly the fix, is it?” Max sighed, already knowing that’s exactly what Lando was about to do.

"Don't really have much of a choice now don't I mate?"

"Chat's saying you need a girlfriend" Max states rather matter of factly

"You could say that again"

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

A series of persistent knocks, followed by the sharp buzz of his phone vibrating against the nightstand, dragged Lando from the depths of sleep. He groaned, squinting against the soft morning light that seeped through the curtains, his brain sluggish as he reached for his phone.

A slight frown tugged at his face when he saw the caller—one of his closest friends. A couple of missed calls from both them and Max F. only deepened his confusion. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pulled his hoodie over his head and shuffled toward the door, answering the call as he went.

“Y/N? I just woke up—sorry, could you give me a minute? I’ll call you back, someone’s at the—” He stopped mid-sentence, mid-step.

Because standing on the other side of the door, phone still pressed to their ear, was Y/N. Bags in hand.

"Hey… Max told me you knew I was coming. Him and P just dropped me off. They’re out running a couple of errands," Y/N said, ending the call and slipping her phone into her pocket.

Lando blinked at her, still processing. "No, actually, he didn't. I didn’t even know he was coming here. Did you just get here, or?"

"I landed about two hours ago," she said with a soft laugh. "Been standing here for the past twenty minutes, though."

"Shit, my bad, Y/N. I really didn’t know." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair, his brain scrambling to recall any moment where Max might have maybe mentioned this.

"Hey, it’s all good! Sorry for dropping by all of a sudden—I really should’ve reached out beforehand anyway. I just thought you and Max had already sorted it out."

"What? No, Y/N, don’t apologize, silly." Lando finally snapped out of his trance and stepped aside. "Come in—fuck, I mean, the apartment’s a mess, but make yourself at home." He quickly reached for some of her bags, ushering her inside before shutting the door behind them.

"What exactly did Max say?" Lando finally asked, still scrambling to pick up the mess scattered across his living room. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to see you, but this is just so... out of the blue."

"Honestly? He was worried," Y/N admitted, grabbing a few stray items to help. "Said you didn’t seem to be doing too well. Thought maybe you could use some company during the break. Listen, Lando, I came here thinking you knew about this. I completely understand if you’d rather be alone right now—I know you’re busy and all—"

"No!" Lando cut in, pausing mid-cleanup. His expression softened, and for the first time since opening the door, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease. "I'm… I'm really glad you're here. Max is right. It hasn’t been easy." He exhaled, offering her a small, tight-lipped smile. "Thank you. For being here. I really appreciate it."

Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he spread his arms. "You gonna hug me, or are you just gonna stand there?"

Y/N let out a small laugh, relief washing over her as she finally saw that familiar spark in his eyes. Taking a few steps forward, she let Lando wrap her in a tight hug, his hold warm, grounding. Exactly what he hadn’t realized he needed.

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

The first day of Y/N being there was more housekeeping than anything else. Between cleaning up Lando’s apartment, clearing out the fridge, and fixing up the guest room, the day passed in a blur of chores. By the time Max and P finally arrived, the boys volunteered to head out and pick up some late lunch—partly because there was absolutely nothing to eat at Lando’s place, and partly so Max could finally discuss the sly plan he had cooked up.

A heavy silence filled the car as Lando gripped the wheel, his knuckles tightening against the leather.

"You’re awfully quiet," Max finally said, side-eyeing his best friend from the passenger seat.

"Oh yeah? Wonder why," Lando bit back. "Maybe ‘cause my best friend decided to go behind my back and plan shit without telling me. The fuck were you thinking not mentioning she was coming over to stay?"

"Mate, it was all in good conscience," Max said with an exaggerated sigh. "Plus, what happened between you two… it was months ago—"

"Exactly!" Lando snapped. "I haven’t even been back home to talk about it since. Fuck’s sake, Max… it’s weird enough I haven’t seen her in ages, but springing this on me? That’s insane, even for you."

Max groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why can’t the two of you just admit you like each other like the grown, mature adults you supposedly are and get on with it? It’s honestly exhausting."

"You know why."

"I actually don’t. Please, do explain. I’d love to hear whatever shit excuse you’ve got lined up. Go on then."

Lando let out a slow, tired sigh. "I’m busy, she’s busy. I can’t just drag her along with me and make her leave everything behind so we can be together. And you know how the media is, Max. I don’t want her dealing with all that hate. You’ve seen how bad it gets."

Max scoffed. "And what do you think she just did? She dropped everything to be with you when you needed her, yeah? Her choice. She’s already doing work at Quadrant—her own volition, might I add—on top of her own career. And might I remind you, you were the one who didn’t want to go through with it. From what I heard, she was willing to make it work."

"Yeah?" Lando let out a dry laugh. "From what you heard?"

Max smirked. "Fine. P told me."

"Lando, mate. If it all goes to shit—not that I think it will—I’m sure you’ll sort it out. She cares about you. And I know you feel the same way about her."

Lando sighed, pulling into the parking lot and turning off the engine. He leaned back against the seat for a moment before finally looking over at Max.

"I know you have good intentions," he admitted. "And despite how insane this is, I do appreciate it. I’ll… see where it goes." Then, with a smirk, he nodded toward the door. "Now go pick up the food, ‘cause I’m fucking starving."

Max narrowed his eyes, pointing a finger at him as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "This conversation is not over, by the way."

Lando just laughed, shaking his head as Max climbed out of the car.

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

Lando woke up to the unfamiliar yet oddly comforting sounds of pots clanking and the scent of food filling his apartment. It was so foreign that, for a second, he thought he was dreaming. Rubbing his eyes, he stumbled out of his room, hair a complete mess, barely awake.

"Morning," Y/N greeted, smiling as she wiped her hands on a tea towel. "There’s breakfast on the counter. I’ve got meals sorted out for the rest of the week—followed your diet, so don’t worry."

Lando blinked at her, then at the kitchen, which now looked like a fully stocked catering service. "It’s 9 in the fucking morning, Y/N. What time did you get up for all this?"

"Like… 6:30?"

"Y/N"

"What? I have jet lag."

Lando squinted at her. "We’re in Monaco. London is one hour behind."

"Okay, fine," she sighed. "I wanted to make sure I had it ready for you. It’s nothing, really—it didn’t take me too long."

"Nothing?" Lando gestured at the sea of neatly packed containers. "My kitchen looks like McLaren hospitality right now."

"It’s not a big deal, Lan, really, I—"

Lando didn’t let her finish. He reached out, gently grabbing her hand and stopping her from cleaning. "Could you—please slow down for a sec?" His voice was softer now, his brows furrowing as he tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. "Y/N, you don’t have to do all this. You don’t have to take care of me."

Lando sighed deeply, his arms instinctively pulling Y/N into a tight hug. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his heart heavy. "I don't deserve you."

Y/N’s arms wrapped around him, her voice soft as she spoke, her thumbs tracing gentle circles on his back. "You have me, either way"

Lando pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression clouded. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. "Look, Y/N... we can't. I can't do this right now. What I said about us—about this, months ago... that's still how I feel. I like you... a lot, trust me, I do. But this is too much, and I can't possibly ask you to—"

He couldn’t keep eye contact, his gaze drifting as if the weight of everything was too much to bear.

Y/N took a step back but stayed close, her eyes searching his. She offered a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I get it, Lan. I’m here for you. As a friend." She took a deep breath. "What I said, about me wanting to be here... to do this with you... I meant that too. I still feel that way. I told you I can wait. You’re worth it."

"You two done being sappy, or should I give you a couple more minutes?" Max's voice echoed through the apartment, making both Lando and Y/N jump and scramble to step away from each other in a panic.

"You little shit, how long have you been stood there listening? You fucking weirdo." In a swift motion, Lando grabbed the nearest object, a spatula, and tossed it across the room. It flew past Max’s head, narrowly missing him as he stood frozen in the middle of the living room.

"So sorry, guys. I told him not to come in without knocking." P finally steps into the apartment, giving Max a pinch on his side. Max let out an exaggerated yelp, squirming away from her with a pained expression.

"Ow! Everyone’s so violent this morning," Max groaned, rubbing his side as P smirked, clearly satisfied with herself.

"You're ridiculous. Just gonna run to the bathroom real quick then we can have breakfast and plan the rest of our day" Lando shook his head with a groan, but a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaves the room

Max took the chance to walk over to Y/N, who was quietly setting the table for breakfast. "You good?" he asked, his voice low, careful not to let Lando hear.

Y/N glanced up at him with a soft, knowing smile. "Take a wild guess, Max. Bet you heard enough to figure out how I'm doing right now." She let out a quiet laugh, but it was tinged with something he couldn’t quite place, defeat, maybe?

Max took a breath, his tone shifting to something gentler, more understanding. "Look, he... you know how he is. As much as I want this for the two of you, you don’t have to wait for him. He can’t just expect you to be there until he’s finally ready. No one’s gonna hold it against you." His voice dropped.

Y/N shook her head slightly, her smile softening. "You’re really sweet, Max, but I’m okay. I promise." She was careful, though, making sure her words felt sincere.

Max gave her a small, thoughtful nod. "Just trying to look out for the two of you is all."

"I know," Y/N replied. She didn’t need Max’s concern to know what was best for her, but it was comforting, knowing that someone understood.

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

Several races had passed since Y/N was last at Lando's apartment. Despite the distance, they’d kept in close contact—calls, texts, little check-ins whenever they could steal a moment. Lando was clearly doing better, each conversation revealing just how much he’d grown over the past few weeks.

Now, it was the Singapore Grand Prix weekend, and Y/N had finally managed to take some time off work. She’d been counting down the days until she could see Lando again, her excitement mingled with the kind of nervous energy that had been building up ever since she booked her flight. The anticipation was almost unbearable, especially when she considered how much her feelings for him had grown since their last conversation.

Despite the distance, despite all the unsaid things, she found herself thinking about him more and more, how his laugh had sounded over the phone, how his presence felt like a comfort when they’d been together. But now, standing outside of Mclaren's hospitality, waiting for Lando to step out his driver room after finishing free practice, everything felt good.

"Y/N! Hey, haven’t seen you around in a while. How have you been?" Zach, a close friend of Oscar Piastri, and someone Y/N had become friends with, walked over with a smile.

"Zach, it’s good to see you. I’m great, just been busy with work is all. The car seems good, Lando and Oscar are driving really well too" Y/N replied with a warm smile, happy to see a familiar face in the paddock.

"Things are looking great. We’re doing really well in the constructors, too. You waiting for Lando?" Zach asked, leaning against the railing casually.

"Mhmm, I’m catching a ride with him back to the hotel. He texted me, he’d be out in a bit." Y/N explained, glancing down at her phone to check for any updates from Lando.

"Right... listen. Are you free any time this weekend? Maybe even after the race? I was thinking—"

"Ready to go?" Lando's voice cut in, and he walked over to the pair, bag slung over his shoulder and phone in hand. "Oh, hey man, sorry, we gotta go. Got some friends waiting for us."

Zach smiled, stepping back. "Oh, don’t let me hold you back. I’ll see you around, Y/N. You still got my number, right?"

"Yep, I’ll catch up with you next time," Y/N said, giving Zach a friendly nod.

"Perfect. Hope you enjoy the weekend. It’s great having you back in the paddock," Zach said with a grin, stepping in to give Y/N a quick hug before patting Lando’s arm as he walked past. "Great stuff today, man. See you around."

Lando raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with slight bitterness as they walked toward the parking lot. "Didn’t know you two were close like that."

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Yes, hello to you too, Lando. So great to see you after months, feels fantastic to finally be here with you."

Lando chuckled, though it was clear there was a hint of jealousy in his voice, "I didn’t mean it like that, just... you two seemed pretty chummy." He smirked at her, trying to play it off.

Y/N leaned back in the passenger seat, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Don't know, I actually think he's pretty cute."

Lando almost slammed the door shut in frustration, his face twisting into a scoff. "Cute? Right."

"What? You jealous?" Y/N teased, barely able to suppress the grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I'm not," Lando grumbled, eyes focused on the road but his jaw clenched slightly.

"You so are. Your ears are red."

"I'm not" he repeated, his voice tinged with defensiveness.

"So you don't mind if I go out for dinner with him after the race then?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone light but with a little edge, just to push his buttons. It was playful, but they both knew the boundaries—they weren’t together, not officially.

"No."

"No, you don't mind?" Y/N repeated, pressing him further.

"No, you can't" Lando snapped back, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

"Why?" she asked innocently, though a knowing smile played at her lips.

"Cause then you'll miss my victory party," Lando replied with a sly smirk, glancing over at her briefly.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "Oh wow, cocky now, are we?" She let out a laugh, though deep down, she couldn't ignore how his confidence was somehow making him all the more attractive.

"Wow" Lando gasped dramatically, glancing over at her with exaggerated disbelief. "You don't think I'll win this weekend? You're breaking my heart, darling."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Don't get too cocky, Norris. The race isn't over until it's over."

"True," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I like to think I’ve got this in the bag. You better be there to celebrate my win, Y/N."

She met his gaze, her playful teasing giving way to something softer, something more real. "We'll see," she replied, a small but genuine smile on her face. "But if you win, I'll begin to think I'm your lucky charm."

Lando nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. "You just might be."

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

"We’ve got this in the bag, Lando. Stick to Plan A, do what you do best, and we’ll take care of the rest. Focus on the drive, and if anything shifts, we’ll adjust. We’re counting on maximum points from you two tonight." Will, Lando's race engineer, pauses, his eyes locking with Lando's, waiting for confirmation after his brief but crucial words.

"Lando."

"Yeah yeah. Maximum points, drive fast, got it." Lando mutters, his response flat, his attention half there. As important as this race is, his mind keeps drifting back to Y/N. She’s in the garage, talking with Zach. His Y/N. The thought pulls at him in a way he can’t shake.

Will’s voice cuts through the haze. "I need 100% of your focus, Lando. The race starts in 30." He hands him his earplugs, but Lando’s gaze is distant.

"Yep, heard." Lando mutters again, his tone quieter, his mind still elsewhere as he turns to leave, the weight of his thoughts lingering like an anchor.

Y/N and Zach were in the middle of an easy, lighthearted conversation. Lando, across the garage, could only watch, his gaze sharpening as he noticed how comfortable Y/N and Zach looked together. The laughter between them, the way they stood too close, it ate at him.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Lando’s voice cut through the air, direct and intense, as he strode toward them.

Y/N looked up at him, surprised but giving him a warm smile. "Yeah, what’s up? You nervous?" She didn’t get up from her seat, still in that calm, relaxed mood.

"Alone" Lando said, his tone sharper now, as the urgency in his words broke through.

"Oh—yeah, of course." She rose to follow him, a furrow crossing her brow, concerned by the intensity in his eyes. They walked towards a quieter corner of the garage, far enough from prying eyes and cameras.

As soon as they were alone, she looked at him. "Is everything okay? Do you need me to call Max or—"

Lando didn’t give her a chance to finish. "I don’t like this. You and him, talking... being all flirty. I don’t like it." The words spilled out of him faster than he could stop them, relief and frustration flooding his chest. It was all coming out at once.

Y/N blinked, trying to keep her voice steady. "I’m not flirting, Lando. He’s just a friend."

Lando’s frustration reached its peak. "I’m just a friend, Y/N! Fuck’s sake... I can’t get in the car like this, not with this on my mind. Not like this." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated.

She stepped closer, her voice soft but firm. "Hey, Lan. What’s going on? You wanted this—actually, no, you didn’t want anything right now, did you? You said so yourself. I’m not doing this to make you jealous or get back at you, He's just a friend. That’s it."

But Lando shook his head, his voice shaking with vulnerability. "I don’t know what I want, okay! But seeing you... with him? I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I can’t lose you."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, though it held a touch of sadness. She gently took his hands in hers, stopping him from messing up his hair further. "You’re not gonna lose me, you silly boy."

Lando looked at her, searching her eyes for some sign that she understood, that she felt the same pull. "One kiss. Give me one kiss. Let’s pretend nothing else matters. Just right now, right here, with you. One kiss before I go." His voice was a whisper, full of longing and desperation.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze, her eyes softening. She cupped his face, her thumb brushing across his jawline as she spoke quietly, almost to herself. "Nothing else matters... I don’t have to pretend. You’re all I want, Lando. Why can’t you see that?"

Lando exhales quietly, his fingers grazing her cheek as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. They stand close, the world around them fading into the background, neither in a rush to break the moment. Their eyes meet, lingering, only flickering downward for the briefest second before finding each other again.

"You take corners faster than this—are you gonna kiss me, or should I send in a request for DRS?" Y/N teases, tilting her head with a smirk.

Lando leans in, closing the small space between them, his lips pressing firmly against hers. It’s not their first kiss, there had been fleeting moments before, small pecks here and there, brief touches exchanged in passing, but this is different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. Their movements are unhurried, deliberate. It’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken, deep and certain, carrying the weight of something that had been waiting to happen.

She’s the first to pull away, though neither of them really want to. But reality tugs at Lando, he has somewhere to be.

Before stepping back, he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, another lighter one at the corner of her mouth. His lips brush her cheek, then her forehead, a quiet farewell without words. When he finally pulls away, he catches the flush creeping up her neck and smirks.

"I'm quick when it matters," he murmurs. "But some things are worth taking my time on."

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

It was the kind of weekend that felt almost predestined, Lando wins in Singapore, by a massive 20-second gap to Verstappen in P2. But even with the trophy in his hands and the roar of the crowd in his ears, his eyes searched for only one thing.

And there she was.

Among the sea of faces, hers stood out effortlessly, beaming with pride, hands clapping in celebration. The victory was unforgettable, but this moment, seeing her there, cheering for him, was the one he’d carry with him forever.

Lando could hardly sit still. He’d been rocking on the balls of his feet, barely paying attention to the post-race interviews with Oscar, his mind already somewhere else. The second the cameras cut off, he was up, grabbing his things in record time, making Oscar chuckle at his urgency.

"Word in my garage is you’ve got yourself a little lucky charm now," Oscar smirked, watching as Lando fumbled with his phone, already dialing Y/N.

"Word spreads fast, huh?"

"Finally made a move?"

"Yeah, took me long enough," Lando laughed, giving his teammate a quick pat on the back as he pressed his phone to his ear.

The call barely rang before her teasing voice filled his speaker. "Why hello there, champ. Miss me already?"

A grin stretched across Lando’s face, warmth creeping up his chest. "Always, baby. Where are you? Need my post-race kiss, like, now."

"On your left."

Lando spun around, immediately spotting her seated outside the motorhome with Max and P. He didn’t even bother ending the call properly, just stuffed his phone in his pocket and made a beeline for her.

"There he is! Mr. 20-second lead. Mate, you were proper flying—"

Max didn’t even get to finish before Lando stopped behind Y/N’s chair, tilting her chin up and leaning down to kiss her. This one deeper, lingering, completely unbothered by the fact that they had company.

"Shit—when did this happen?" Max gaped, his arm tightening around P as if he needed something to ground him.

"Just before the race. Can’t believe you’re only finding out now, thought the whole paddock knew by now," Lando chuckled, hands rubbing Y/N’s shoulders as she sat there, visibly flustered, still adjusting to the attention.

"Well, damn. About time."

Y/N glanced up at Lando, still a little dazed, but the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her forget about everything else. He pressed one last kiss to the top of her head before leaning down, voice just for her.

“You’re my good luck charm.”

She laughed softly, squeezing his hand. “Guess that means I have to stick around then, huh?”

Lando grinned, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “Oh, baby, you’re not going anywhere.”

2K notes · View notes

five-one-two-station · 6 months ago

Text

At this point I am convinced some people are watching this show solely via the subtitle files, because that's the only thing that explains drastically misunderstanding everything that's not spelled out in dialogue to this extent.

Honestly some of the most embarrassing mass failure of media literacy I've ever seen. It's not even complicated stuff, it's basic text comprehension and story fluency.

- No, Caitlyn's "I know!" is not anger at being called out; she's saying she is very, very painfully aware of what she's done wrong. Watch it again.

- No she didn't take the guards away or go to the cell to have sex with Vi. TF?!?

It was Vi who initiated; Caitlyn was surprised she did.

She pulled the guards away to help Vi if/when she chose to do what she knows her well enough to know she probably would. Vi makes her choice - Caitlyn doesn't "let" her, she just supports it, because it's Vi's choice to make.

Vi has no idea she's done this until after, it doesn't affect her "agency" at all. That's not what any of those words mean!

- She did this as a direct acknowledgement of and response to Vi's previous criticisms.

You are supposed to be able to make the very, very minimal leap of imagination required to understand what the show is telling you here; that she is genuinely sorry, genuinely committed to getting her shit together, and that she has heard and received every word that Vi has told her.

The reason this gesture is so important is that it demonstrates she's now going out on a limb to put herself, her resources, and her privilege to work for the greater good.

And the reason Vi reacts the way she does is that she understands all of this immediately.

You should not need the show to sit you down and spell this out to you step by step Barney the Dinosaur style.

- She works very hard and sacrifices quite a lot to try to do right by people after fucking up so badly before, but not before very explicitly acknowledging that she can't undo the harm she's already done. And this isn't even an inference thing, she actually even says this bit out loud twice, and you still somehow missed it.

- For $5, what do you think the show was suggesting by having Sevika take up her seat, her final costume have no Enforcer uniform elements, and having her allude to an ongoing struggle. Come on, guess.

I am loathe to call people stupid just because some tv show stuff sailed over their heads, but... y'all are legitimately testing that. This is not exactly The Holy Mountain or something, it is very straightforward storytelling.

And just... I mean why would you be this loud about anything without making sure you didn't have it ass backways first?!? In public!?!? 💀

You guys, you have to watch shows to know what is happening in them.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #caitlyn #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane

2K notes · View notes

bumblebeesfromvenus · 5 months ago

Text

Soft Feathers, Softer Kisses 🦉

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I'm soooo excited for y'all to see this!!!!

My first time writing for Telemachus and EPIC in general so please go easy on me 🥲

This was born from my need to smooch Tele. He's so cute 🥹

*the art is not mine, I got it from pinterest, if anyone knows the artists lmk pls!*

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You're betrothed to the prince of Ithaca. His father is lost at sea and 108 suitors are pushing his mother to choose a new king. When one of them insults the queen, a fight breaks loose, and you end up fiercely defending your lover with a determined owl at your side.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The sound of your sandals on the smooth palace floor echoed off the marble walls, the fabric of your chiton that wasn't bunched up in your hands was brushing against your legs while you hurried towards the hall.

The commotion had managed to make its way through the entire building like a breeze of the salty sea air.

Still, the news reached you later than you'd have liked.

Worry and anger twisted in your chest, a feeling like countless arrows piercing your heart. Your lungs were burning, no breath managing to get enough oxygen in your blood.

You had to hurry.

They would eat him alive.

You were well aware of the suitors. The 108 men who'd grown stubborn roots in the palace and refused to leave without getting a chance.

The king had been gone for so long, leaving his throne empty and his family behind. It had been two decades since he sailed off to war.

Not many believed he was even still among the living, instead thinking he was slaving away in his place in the Underworld.

The queen managed to keep the kingdom from ruin for years, ever since her beloved left, and yet they insisted on a new a king, a new man to wear the crown and sit upon the throne.

A new man to take Penelope as his wife.

The moment they showed up at the gates you'd stared at them with disgust, boring into them with your sharp gaze.

None of them were fit to lead, let alone rule an entire kingdom.

The queen stalled and stalled, the hope of her husband's return heavy on her heart.

However, the suitors soon grew impatient. Causing havoc within the walls of the palace, pounding on Penelope's doors, threatening bloodshed if she didn't choose a new king.

And now, your betrothed, the prince of Ithaca, was caught in the middle of it all because he was cursed with a heart too big for his body.

When you turned the corner of the hallway, you were met with a sight that made your heart shatter and wrath boil in your veins.

The suitors had circled Telemachus, leaving him trapped with no way out while Antinous stood over him, broad shoulders throwing shadows on the face of your beloved.

He was beaten and bloodied, heaving while trying to fight back.

Although a small, proud smile cracked on your face when you saw some of the men limping or nursing their bruised eyes.

Even Antinous was left with crimson streaks dripping from his mouth, staining his teeth. Your feet were carrying you further in their direction, a mindless action.

Panic struck you when Antinous raised his hand to deliver another blow.

Without thinking, you called out to him, rage tinting your voice accompanied by the angry grinding of your teeth.

"Antinous!" You yelled, a scowl on your face as you forced your way through the ocean of suitors.

"Get away from him!"

The giant man lowered his hand with a deep chuckle and turned to face you with a smirk that made the previously boiling blood to freeze.

"If it isn't the little princess. Come to save your prince, have you? I swear it's the other way around."

The grin that sat on his face, his bloodstained teeth exposed, made bile rise up your throat.

The men chuckled, making Telemachus' head fall forward in shame.

You payed them no mind, rushing to your lover.

Giving Antinous a look that could kill, you kneeled down next to Telemachus and cupped his face, a worried crease forming between your brows while you gently brushed your thumb over the blooming bruise on his cheek to soothe it.

"Look at you.. you're bleeding!" You gasped, quickly using your chiton to wipe away the blood on his face.

"I'm fine, I promise."

Telemachus gave you an unconvincing smile, followed by a wince. The worried look on your face tugged at his heart.

You looked like you were about to cry, and he hated to think that he was the reason.

"You're not fine. You're bruised and-and what if you broke a bone? How did this even happen? They knew there'd be consequences if they-"

the words just spilled out of you, the concern for your lover was something you could no longer contain.

He cupped your cheek and smiled weakly.

"My love, please. I assure you, I'm alright-"

He was cut off by Antinous, a scoff falling from his split lips. You scowled again and rose from your knees, a panicked expression appearing on your beloved's face.

"No, don't-"

Telemachus grasped at your hand, only for you to gently tug it from his grip as you approached Antinous.

Only when you made your way over to the grinning man did you notice a big owl circling the suitors, flying high towards the tall ceiling.

You spared it a glance, noting the magnificent coloring of its feathers and the bright eyes filled with something you could only describe as a sense of justice.

Not once had you see such determination in an animal, but it managed to put your mind at ease a little.

"You filthy dog! Who do you think you are?! He is your prince, whether you like it or not. And you have no right-" you snarled, raising your hand to point a finger at him.

He quickly caught your wrist in his fierce grip, a deep frown sitting on his face.

Antinous glanced at Telemachus, who was holding his aching side trying to pull himself off the ground, before averting his eyes back to you.

"He doesn't look very princely to me."

The smirk he sported was enough to make the fire in your chest spread even more.

"You-" you sneered only to be interrupted by Antinous again.

"What? Hm? What will you do?"

"Stop." Telemachus heaved, supporting himself on a marble pillar.

You didn't let yourself be intimidated by him and rivaled him with a look just as sharp.

"There's a special place in Tarturus for you, Antinous. If he'd even allow it." You spoke quietly but firmly, feeling satisfaction bloom in your heart at his reaction.

Antinous scowled, tightening his grip around your wrist.

"He," he began, "is dead."

You smirked, a scoff making its way past your lips.

"You better pray to the gods. Lady Tyche is not on your side. You'll be lucky enough if he even grants you a way to the Underworld. I hope you have enough gold on hand. Because the only way you're getting across the Styx is in pieces." You spat at him, venom dripping from your tongue.

Antinous bared his teeth, fury blazing in his eyes as he raised his other hand in the air, presumably to strike you.

"Get."

Telemachus' voice boomed through the hall, a scorned look on his face.

"Your hands. Off of her." He sneered, pushing himself away from the pillar.

"Do you want another beating, boy?" The giant man roared, almost crushing your wrist in his hand.

Down came your feathered friend, swooping in with its sharp claws and a chilling screech, successfully tearing open a new scar across Antinous' eye. He cried out and dropped your wrist, clutching his face instead.

The other men quickly drew their swords, swinging at the bird, only to miss and receive a peck from its beak against any vulnerable spot.

The owl evaded the suitors' weapons with such grace and struck back with such vigor that you were almost mesmerized.

"Αγάπη μου." *(my love)

Telemachus' gentle call for you snapped you out of your haze.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, worried Antinous had caused you any harm. You stared at him, your lips parted.

"I... no. No, I'm alright. We should leave." You said hurried, supporting his weight while you dragged him down an opposite corridor.

You spared the suitors and the mysterious owl a last glance, a smirk tugging at your lips at the sight of 108 men being defeated by a bird.

Antinous caught your gaze, and he snarled at you, still holding his eye.

"Next time.." he called out after you, "you're dead."

The threat sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but he was quickly put back in line by the owl, who promptly delivered a peck to the top of his head.

With a small smile playing on your face, you led your beloved back to his rooms to take care of his wounds.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Back in your chambers, you knelt in front of Telemachus, a worried crease between your brows while you gently held a damp linen cloth to his swollen and split knuckles.

The pure white fabric was stained with the crimson blood of your lover, a sting in your heart.

Telemachus sighed and took your chin in his hand, tilting your head to look him in the eyes.

"Λουλούδι μου, your expression pains me. I'd rather see your heartwarming smile." He spoke with a small grin, hissing when his busted lip reopnend and the blood began pouring once more. *(my flower)

Quickly, you pressed the cloth to his mouth, a deep frown on your face.

"And your state pains me. You-... You could've died. These are vicious, feral men, and as much as I don't doubt your ability to stand your ground, 108 against 1.... the odds weren't on your side." You replied, such sadness in your eyes it made Telemachus' heart ache.

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if..." you sighed deeply, tears threatening to fall from your lashline while your head fell forward.

His gentle hands cupped your face, the rag in your grasp long forgotten.

"But I'm okay. I promise you, my love, it's barely a scratch." A smile cracked on his face and you couldn't help but chuckle, followed by a sniffle.

"You have a larger heart than all those men combined." You whispered, pressing your palm right above his beating heart.

Telemachus cupped your hand and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fell shut at the sensation as you melted further into his touch.

"Besides," he broke the silence, a smirk on his lips, "I had help."

He glanced towards his balcony and you followed his line of sight, being met with the owl resting contently on the railing, curiosity in its bright eyes.

"Yes," you chuckled, rising to your feet and walking towards the creature, gently dragging Telemachus behind you by his hand, "your mysterious feathered friend. Care to introduce me?"

"Right. Her name's Ath-"

he was cut off when the owl screeched at him and furiously flapped her wings. He startled and chuckled nervously, clearing his throat.

"I-I meant A... Alena. Yes. Her name's Alena."

If an owl had shoulders and they could sag, this is what you'd imagine it'd look like.

You laughed softly, watching as the bird narrowed her sharp eyes at Telemachus. He swallowed thickly and gave her an awkward smile.

"Well, Thank you." You said sincerely, smiling when the owl bowed her head at you.

What a curious creature.

"We should get you some ointments for those cuts and bruises."

You turned back to your beloved.

"I told you, I'm totally fi- ow."

He winced, holding his side that would undoubtedly bloom with purples and blues come evening. You sighed softly and shook your head at him.

"You're too sweet for your own good sometimes."

You caressed his cheekbone and pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss, minding his injuries. He hummed into the kiss, resting his hands on your waist.

Lost in your embrace, the owl made another sound, something closer to the typical hoot, averting your attention to her.

She ruffled her feathers and with a last glance at the both of you she took off into sky. With a content expression you watched her glisten in the afternoon sun.

Telemachus had a bright smile on his face and waved after her, watching as she flew into the sunset, disappearing behind the horizon.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Please let me know what you thought! <3

More of my stuff -> 💫

I think you wanna see this @withonly-sweetheart @allysunny 👀

Thank you so so so much to @vampkennedy for assisting me with the translations 🩷

#bumblebeesfromvenus #telemachus #telemachus x reader #prince of ithaca #telemachus of ithaca #epic x reader #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic antinous #epic athena #epic penelope #telemachus of ithaca x reader #prince of ithaca x reader

2K notes · View notes

ofstarsandvibranium · 11 days ago

Text

Maternal Advice

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Dr. Robby x F!Reader

Summary: You're joining Robby and his colleagues for dinner and provide some love advice to the group.

Mom of the ER | The Pitt Masterlist

You sat beside Robby at the restaurant. It was a local place, similar to an Applebee's or Chili's, but more mom and pop.

You and Robby liked to frequent the place, even knowing the owners by name. It was a chill, neutral place, that closed late, which was perfect for a dinner with the day shift PTMC team.

After their shift, everyone had gone home to change and met at the restaurant. Robby still donned a hoodie, but with joggers and a t-shirt this time. You were dressed in some leggings, a t-shirt, and cardigan for the cool breeze.

Everyone sat around the large tables, eating and chatting away. You're resting your head on Robby's shoulder, listening to him chat with Heather. You knew they had dated years ago, but both have made it very clear that ship has sailed. Especially since you and Robby are married, and you were never the jealous type anyway. Heather is a great woman and friend to you and Robby.

"I just don't have time for dating. I don't know how the hell you two manage it," she says nodding to you two.

You smile at her, "It was hard in the beginning. I can admit that I was super clingy, so I had trouble adjusting at first. But I got used to it. Michael still made efforts to see me after grueling hours at work, so I knew he still wanted to be with me."

"She dealt with a lot too, cancelled dates, only being able to talk on the phone a few times over a course of a few days. I didn't make things easy, but she still stuck around," he looks fondly at you and you look at him with a matching expression.

Trinity groans, "Dating fucking sucks nowadays. Don't get me started on the apps."

Mateo chimes in, "Finding people in-person isn't any better."

"So we're all just doomed to loneliness?" Trinity scowls and takes a swig from her beer.

You hum, "Is it too cliche to say that you'll find someone someday?"

"Yes," the group replies in unison.

Frank scoffs, "I met my wife in person. Things are great. We got a kid and a dog-"

"Which you got without discussing with her first," Heather chimes in.

You grimace, "How pissed was she?"

"...very. But she caved when she saw how happy it made the kid. So...still a win?"

You and Heather give each other a look and Robby shakes his head, "You still have much to learn, Langdon," he says and then sips from his beer.

Everyone goes off into their own conversations again. Frank and Robby talk about sports and you just sit there watching everyone around the table.

Towards the end, you see Victoria, the youngest of the residents, talking with Mateo. You see she's a little frazzled, stuttering over her words as she speaks with him. You can't help but giggle, which catches the attention of Robby.

"What's funny?"

You lean in and whisper in his ear, "Victoria's got a crush on Mateo."

Robby cocks a brow at you and looks in the direction of the aforementioned. He furrows his brows and you explain, "She keeps tucking her hair behind her ears, she's hanging onto his every word. She's agreeing with everything he's saying. Crush behavior."

"You never did that stuff with me," he mumbles.

"Michael, I wasn't a young twenty year old woman when we started dating. I was a seasoned veteran in the dating game by then."

Your husband chuckles, "Seasoned, huh?"

You roll your eyes, "Shut up. This isn't about me. This is about Victoria."

"Let her be. Javadi doesn't need to be coddled."

Mateo seems to say something funny because Victoria laughs, but then she makes a snort and she freezes. She quickly excuses herself and rushes to the bathroom.

"I'm gonna check on her."

"ER mom to the rescue," Robby says and you swat at his shoulder as you pass him.

When you enter the bathroom, Victoria is lightly banging her head against a bathroom stall.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

She looks at you with worry in her eyes, "Did you see that? God, that was so embarrassing!"

You chuckle, "It was cute."

She shakes her head and starts to pace, "I don't want to be considered cute. I want to be seen as serious and mature and worth dating." You can tell she's frustrated and you approach her, moving some strands of hair out of her face.

"Don't try to be someone else just so someone will like you, honey. That never goes the way that you want. It gets exhausting and you end up losing yourself in the process. If you like someone, just be yourself. And if they like you, then they like you as you are. Don't go changing yourself just because you think it's what they want."

Victoria's shoulders deflate in defeat and you sigh, "If things don't work out with Mateo, it'll be okay. It's not the end of the world. You have an entire lifetime to find someone. I mean, look at me and Robby. We found each other later in life and so unexpectedly. You'll be okay."

The young woman lets out a deep breath and nods, "Okay. Thank you, Y/N."

"Anytime."

You turn to exit, but she stops, "Wait."

"Yeah?" you answer, facing her.

"Is it..okay if I hug you?"

You softly smile at her, "Of course." She rushes forward and wraps her arms around you and you do the same to her. You squeeze her tight, "You know if you're ever having boy trouble or just wanna chat, you can text or call me."

"Really? I don't want to bother-"

"You won't. I promise. Where's your phone?" she pulls it out of her back pocket and you type in your number with your name. You hand it back to her, "There."

"Thanks," she murmurs, "You really are such a mom."

You laugh, "So I've been told. Come on," you lead her out of the bathroom and you two head back to the table.

When you settle beside Robby once more, he asks, "Everything okay?"

You nod, "Just girl talk."

"And another kid adopted into the Robby Family," Heather states with a smirk and you roll your eyes at her.

#dr robby x reader #dr robinavitch x reader #the pitt #the pitt fic #the pitt imagine #dr robby fic #dr robby imagine #dr michael robby robinavitch #dr michael robby robinavitch x reader

476 notes · View notes

hellsquills · 4 months ago

Text

Something about the "don't come back until you've made millions" and Ford's resentment.

There's no way Stan could actually make millions by himself. Ford knows this, because it's, well... obvious. The way he sees it, their father kicked Stan so he'd learn to "get it together" and fend for himself.

What Ford fails to understand (and will not understand until they're sailing together) is that 1. Filbrick wasn't teaching Stan any lesson, he simply wanted to get rid of a child he didn't deem worthy of his family; and 2. Stan DID take the "making millions" part literally.

So Ford goes on with his life telling himself that Stan will be fine, because this warning is enough for him to get it together and grow up. He's charming, he's resourceful, he's good with people. He'll find a job in no time. He might not get rich, but he'll finally become an adult and stop acting like a selfish kid. Maybe he'll even reflect on what he did and will finally stop making excuses. He'll apologize, and maybe then Ford will forgive him.

So when Stan shows up at his cabin all dirty and unkempt, Ford is decidedly disappointed: his brother didn't even bother trying bettering himself! And now that he has the chance of doing something good, he's still being selfish!

Meanwhile, Stan, who's given up on "making millions" and is just trying to survive with his guilt and the decisions he made to try and make it up to his family, is furious. Ford knew from the start that Stan would never make it, and yet he sided with their dad! And he didn't even fucking miss him!

Something about the many layers of miscommunication and misunderstanding these two had between them. It wasn't just "you were being selfish/you betrayed me/you left me". Things are never that simple.

Also I want to kick Filbrick with a steel chair.

#my silly little headcanons #gravity falls #stan twins #stanley pines #stanford pines #hells originals #this ain't news obviously but sometimes i reflect on these guys and i come to conclusions i hadn't thought before

817 notes · View notes

thedarkermelody · 8 months ago

Text

Cale Henituse is the funniest bastard to have as an MC, he's a unreliable narrator and everyone sees it. He wants to slack off and says world peace needed first before that.

Hates cats yet adopts two and plans to make a third king, scams people constantly, the most skewed perception of how to be a trashy man. Says he isn't a good person, does things that help people constantly, justifies it saying cause he didn't have pure motives for doing it it's not a good deed so he's still a bad person. Adopts a dragon even though he said he didn't want it near him cause he'd be in the middle of crazy situations, said by the guy who puts himself in situations constantly all the time. "I don't care about this old man assassin and want him to leave as soon as possible' several chapters later when said assassin comes back hurt and dying "What the fuck i'm going to blow up an island the bastards behind this are on" Yeah he blows up an island, says 'well the ships can just sail a bit further so it can go no biggie.' Said explosion is several times bigger then it should be, cause of his chronic inability to communicate with anyone ever. Stop saying shit exclusively in your head dumbass! He coughs up blood constantly from rebound his powers cause, fails to understand why anyone is upset by this sight when he's 'fine'. Has a healing power, fails to disclose that too to anyone. "I'm weak." Says this fucking idiot, while blasting his charisma aura that makes you feel like your going to die at people who have no idea it's a buff and take it seriously. While using a giant fuck off shield to block bombs. While blasting people with a thunderbolt that can blow up a forest. He's so stupid /aff I want to bite him like a chew toy and shake some sense but we all know he'll never get any.

#trash of the count's family #tcf #lout of the count's family #lcf #cale henituse #melody word blahs

2K notes · View notes

pix-writes · 9 months ago

Text

Stanford Pines relationship HCs

(ford pines x reader) there will be smut so, 18+ below... Some angst, mainly fluff, I HC that most if not all of the pines family are neurodivergent in some way.

A/N: I had a long journey last week and all I could think about was the stans, so this will become specific... 😅 Will do the same for Stanley too in the future.

Ford has a lot to catch up on when he comes back through the portal, but he won't jump into a relationship immediately, it will still take a little time, he's got a lot to adjust to in his home dimension and being with someone has not been his forte.

But once he does he's surprisingly clingy, will want to cuddle up to you, in bed, on the couch, wherever you both are. Not one for real PDA, but will be close to you and call you terms of endearment out in public, just a little less than he does at home. I HC that he'd call his partner "dear" "darling" "honey", looooves your hips and putting his arm around your waist (it's a great way to pull you in to snuggle).

Doesn't hold your hand at first but since you like him to hold your hand and give him assurance over the fact that you like his six fingers, he does. It loosens his insecurities around his hands a lot.

Gets addicted to kissing you, doesn't care whether it leads to more or not, Stanford simply loves kissing whether it's brief or a good long make out session. But he does prefer to take his time over it.

Stanford is very logical, good at patching himself up from decades of portal hopping and therefore will do the same for you if you need it, is meticulous if you get hurt in any way but also has an appalling bedside manner! Doesn't tell you if he's going to do something that will sting and tells you not to be overdramatic if you react negatively to it (you know how people can get a little angry when someone they love gets potentially seriously hurt?). And yet you know him to be a gentle man, generally touches you softly like you're made of glass (unless it's to pull you away from something dangerous), so having him take care of you can also be comforting, he'll never do something painful unless it's necessary. (Don't worry though, his brother will make you stan cakes to cheer you both up.)

Speaking of food, Ford definitely prefers his home universe food to what he had in the other dimensions, tried lots of different unusual dishes, some he even liked, but none of it can compare to his homely comforts. When not sailing and adventuring, he puts on a few pounds. Satiates his sweet tooth and caffeine addiction with mabel juice (is the only other one of the pines to like it), prefers it to coffee. Stanley swears his tastebuds must've been affected during his time away. Doesn't like it with as much edible glitter as mabel does, but this is the only deviation from the original recipe he has.

Excellent teacher, you want to learn how he does something? More than eager to teach you with a steady hand and clear pace. Will teach you regardless how to shoot his laser and magnetic guns, how to defend yourself and how to meditate (if you didn't know these already). Can get into the information and ramble like you know about a topic and then realise (eventually) that he needs to break down or explain what he means.

Despite this he also has a romantic streak, whilst he can forget everything aside from his work or adventures, including important dates, he can also be a very considerate and supportive partner and post-portal wants to include you as much as possible in his life and conversations. You can talk for hours about any and all topics and he loves to be mentally stimulated in a relationship, however that may be.

Does sometimes have nightmares and deep guilt over Stanley and is dealing with it as best as he can, likes to know he can count on you for comfort and guidance, makes him feel less panicked or paranoid after Bill. He and his brother talk things out too and these talks can go on all night into the early morning and it's best for them to have space, Ford is grateful for your patience and willingness to be involved in his life, especially as he knows he wasn't good at opening up to you when you were starting to become friends let alone a relationship.

Ford would be shy at first, but once he gets comfortable with how to pleasure you, expect this man to be kind of obsessed. That absorbing focus he can have on his projects and studies? Yeah that can be transferred to you just as easily, which can be a little intense!

You off-handendly mention something about sexual experiences, perhaps even a joke about things you haven't tried, catching his perplexed look afterwards, you say it's simply fantasy and not really something you need to experience. However what you took for confusion or slight insecurity was actually Ford processing what you said. In fact, it doesn't leave his mind and so he does something he's good at: he does some research 😏

One night you might even wake up from sleep to find him sitting upright, lightly snoring, bedside lamp on, clearly fallen asleep whilst writing on his portable writing desk (it's either a gift from you or the twins, not sure which to choose!), when curiosity gets the better of you and you sneak a page out into your hands, you're faced with his attempts at organising fantasies, what he thinks you would want to try, how would you react to different stimuli or some of his own fantasies... Mainly figuring out how many orgasms he could coax out of you or how long he thinks he could edge you over time, what positions or rp you might like: he's worked it all out in a haphazard kind of way, like he's brainstorming the best approaches.

It's so plan-sexual scientific it's frank but... attractive, because it's so... him.

Whether he wakes up on his own or you wake him up, he ends up blushing, though he's not really sorry that you've found it. He's looking at you with this mix of nerves for how you'll react and new found smugness when he sees that you've been affected by what you've read... And yeah, neither of you are leaving that bed for a long time.

Basically, like a true scientist, he is down to experiment! 😄 He's willing to try anything as long as it's not going to seriously hurt you or it's something he wouldn't try on himself first, this is a boundary he's never willing to cross. Trust and open communication is an important thing for him post-weirdmaggeddon especially, and he's getting better at it as he goes along, so even though he often doesn't feel confident, he is infuriatingly good at aftercare and all the rest!

This means when he's not tripping over his words or flustered by you himself -he can be a damn tease at times and will chuckle to himself when you curse him out for the subtle touches he'll give you over the course of the day before pulling away. Sometimes he doesn't even know he's done it, which is evil.

Stanley will make grumbly jokes about how "you two lovebirds need to get a room!" Or about needing to move out 😅 but honestly he's truly happy his brother is happy and if you get married he will sob the whole time, even through his roasting joke filled best man speech! (Cracks a joke more than once to you that you need to make Ford an "honest man" and then laughs at it himself before whispering to you that he can get the rings if you really want to.)

Will and does suffer in the warmer months because he will wear long sleeves, full length pants and or a turtle neck for the comfort aesthetic

Personality wise him and Stan are different as can be but they often sync up physically in their mannerisms or what they say, as freaky as it is cute in a way, when you are tired/drunk you can swear you're seeing double, which amuses both of them.

His favourite shared past time with you is any kind of board or card game, some of them the rest of the family will join in for, but will also love someone to play d&d&md with if you're willing! Loves to get into the details of the rules of whatever you're playing together and it can get quite heated (secretly finds your frustrated side quite attractive, as long as you're not actually angry at him).

I feel like Stanford would get into videogames as soon as he becomes more adept at technology in this dimension, likely it's dipper who is the one to introduce it to him and he loves it (nerd). Will marathon catch ups on all the movies and shows he's missed; especially the series he was into that got continued after the portal incident. You lose him to Star Wars prequels etc for at least a couple weeks of him getting his head round all the lore and how it works, may have controversial opinions and needs to work it all out, may need to contact dipper about this.

Regularly has calls with the family (mainly the twins) over video chat (and will always call it 'video calling' no matter what platform they're using), so once you're together that includes you too and be prepared to be bombarded with questions from them (your their new graunty or grunkle after all) ❤️

#stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls hcs #stanford pines hcs #stanford pines imagines #gravity falls imagine #pix writes stuff #more random hcs than specifically relationship I think but some of it is spicy! lol #I keep the nd diagnosis ambiguous for them tho because it's really up to the reader but I #want to take my hcs into account when talking about them/writing them

1K notes · View notes

onepieceisreeeeaaalll · 2 months ago

Note

may I request another Luffy x fem reader please. Where Luffy is always picking up y/n like anywhere and everywhere they go (they aren’t dating or anything yet either) and he’s just always carrying her. Maybe even one day she’s wearing a skirt and so she freaks out when Luffy goes to grab her but Luffy holds her skirt down while carrying her. I don’t know I feel like it would be cute. Thank you!

Carried Away - Luffy x Fem!Reader

Hey! This was SO FUN to write! I spent too long trying to avoid it because I was overthinking, but it's been sitting in my drafts just haunting me. Here it is! Hope you like it!

Tags: SFW, use of y/n, platonic, pre-relationship, gunshot, Marine shenanigans

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this!

~1.7k

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident One - The Thousand Sunny, noon

“Luffy, you can't be serious.” Nami sighs.

The ship has been sailing a course towards - well, you can't remember. Nami's the one who handles the navigation, and quite honestly, you didn't hear where she said you'd be going. Something about the logpose, needing to restock - the usual. The point is that it's meant to be an easy journey.

So, everyone's a little surprised to see a random, abandoned dingy in the middle of the ocean. With a treasure chest in it, no less.

“Yeah - duh! We can't just leave that there!” Luffy whines, gesticulating his hands at Nami. “We're pirates - remember? That's treasure!”

“We don't know that, idiot!” Nami snaps, reaching a hand up to smack at Luffy's head. “It could be explosive, like that barrel was forever ago! Remember that?”

He's already barreling near the edge of the ship, though, eyes widen with excitement. You can't help but giggle at the energy he has.

“Aw, come on! Let me go over and take a look! I'll be real quick. Besides, what if it is treasure? Don't you want the money?”

Nami seems to pause at Luffy's comment. Everyone looks between her and Luffy, before she lets out a very long sigh. If you look closely enough, you're sure you can see berrie signs in her eyes.

“Fine. But seriously, only real quick. And bring someone along with you so you don't get stuck in the water. Like Zo-”

“Alright! Let's go!”

Your eyes widen the moment Luffy's arm snakes around your waist, rotating around it over and over again in rubbery fashion. You weren't even close to him, but for some reason, you're the one he's selected.

“Wait!” You screech, your hands grasping at his arm, but it's too late.

Laughing wildly, Luffy backs up, rearing his other arm before launching you against his side and sending you both over the edge of the Sunny.

“Luffy!” You scream, but the sound of the wind passing by is too loud in your ears. And so is Luffy's laugh.

You land on the dingy with a thud, your arms still grasping onto Luffy tightly. His arm retracts from the rotation around your waist, and while you breathe heavily to calm your racing heart, Luffy is already marching towards the treasure chest in the small space.

“What the-” You start, but Luffy's quick to wave you over.

“Nami said I needed someone to come with. Here, check this out with me!”

Your head aches, and all you can do is stare at him as a groan slips past your lips. Well, you can't argue with that logic.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Two - A Nearby Island, morning

Yesterday, that treasure chest proved to not have treasure itself, but some kind of treasure map. The crew was mixed. On the one hand, it seems like an obvious trap. On the other hand, money. Money won out.

Much to everyone's relief, the map has led to a nearby island. The one the crew was headed to, anyway, so it was really of no inconvenience. There's the opportunity to restock, to fix gear, to get a bite to eat. It's a much needed respite after the long journey everyone's just had, so why not add a treasure hunt?

No one is more excited about this than Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp.

“Treasure hunt!” They gleefully cheer, leading the charge down the gangplank.

The ship is docked off the shore, hidden away by large trees and surrounding cliff sides. So long as everyone is careful, there's no reason to believe there should be any danger.

You're gathering your things, sorting through them on the deck. Getting a free day with some berries in your pocket is rare enough as is. It'd be preferable to make the most of it. Maybe some new boots? Oh, or something to take up your free time! Knitting?

It’s while you're lost in your thought bubble that you feel something grab at you. Looking down, your wrist is clamped by - is that a hand? Attached to-

The rubber arm is long, outstretched from the bottom of the gang plank, and you let out a gasp as it reels you quickly away from where you're standing.

“Luffy!” You whine, as exasperated now as you were yesterday.

You're snapped to Luffy's side, pulled with such a force that your feet fly off the ground until you crash into his body. Luffy beams, moving his hands to straighten you up properly. You blow some hair from your face, jerking forcibly from his grasp. Even though he's strong, it seems to have taken him off-guard.

“Seriously, what was that for?!”

“Didn't want you to get left behind! We're treasure hunting!” Luffy grins.

“You can't just-!” You start to argue, but you're too flustered to really finish your statement. He's beaming at you too brightly, and that smile is too damn infectious.

With a sigh, you pull away, walking down the hill ahead of the group.

“I'm going clothes shopping!” You exclaim.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Three - Town, noon

This is getting out of hand. You're aware of how much Luffy likes to grab at the crew, throw them around, and it's no secret that he prefers it to finding another route to having people do as he says. Luffy's impatient. Impulsive. Reckless. It's grown on you, sure, but there's something about the way your stomach lurches every time you're tossed around that leaves you uneasy.

But you've planned for this. It was a decision made out of necessity, nothing more. A cute skirt purchased in town, too short to really significantly cover anything if you were moved around. Sure, Luffy is…well, Luffy, but he's still a guy. At the end of the day, there's no way he'd risk your modesty. Right? He could respect that.

That's the idea, anyway.

Your shopping trip has ended, and you're sporting your new skirt, holding a bag of clothes casually in one hand. It's a beautiful day. The sun is shining brightly on the town, birds are chirping, and there's an arm around your waist.

Wait.

Your eyes widen as you're pulled back forcefully, soaring several feet backwards into the air. A scream rips from your throat as you're pulled into Luffy's arms, and the rubber man is running with impressive speed through town. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly to hang on, and everything is whirring by so fast that you can't figure out what's happening immediately. All that you know is you're moving, you've lost your bag of clothes, and Luffy is the culprit.

“Hey, (Y/N), good thing I found ya! I lost Chopper and Usopp, but they'll catch up. We're gettin’ outta here!”

“Monkey D. Luffy, what the hell are you-?!”

Gunshots. You screech, scrambling as you shift in his arms. Luffy groans with mild irritation, adjusting his hold on you tightly as he sends an arm onto a nearby pole. He launches you both up, and you bury your face in his neck.

“Marines?! How did that happen?!” You exclaim, and your face turns red as your skirt flies up. An arm moves from his neck, quickly scrambling to pull the fabric down.

“Oh - yeah! Turns out that treasure map was left by them! Funny, right?”

“Funny?!”

"Well, kinda." He shrugs, before turning his head out to the Marines. "Stupid jerks! We wanted our treasure!"

"There's Straw Hat!" A Marine yells, followed by several loud bangs from their guns.

You gasp as he jumps between buildings, and bullets are ricocheting off of stone structures you both pass, nearly grazing you. You're pretty sure some hit Luffy, bouncing off of his rubber legs and sending them off every which way. But your skirt keeps threatening to creep up, and you're not sure how tightly you can hang onto him with just one arm. Luffy can feel you bouncing in his grasp, and he glances down at you with a look.

“What's wrong? Put both arms around me or you're gonna fall!”

“I can't, my skirt!” You whine. “I'm gonna flash everyone!”

“Hm?” Luffy tilts his head, furrowing his brows as he looks down at your lap. Noticing your hand pinning your skirt down, he doesn't think twice. He reaches to grab your hand, pulling it around his neck.

“Luffy!”

“Stop whining, just hold on!” Luffy groans, and one of his hands moves to the fabric of your skirt before it can fly up any further. He holds it down, one hand on your skirt and the other wrapped around you tightly.

Your face flushes, and you gasp as he jumps from the roof of a building down to a tree, and then to the ground. You jostle with every move, but your arms have secured you to his body. You're safely nestled against him, and you don't think twice about moving.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Incident Four - The Thousand Sunny, evening

The ship lurches as it lands in the ocean far from the island the crew was on. You all let out a collective sigh of relief as the sails carry you far, far away from that Marine trap. By the time you and Luffy had arrived on the ship earlier, everyone else had barely made it, and Franky had already loaded up the cola to coup de burst the crew to safety.

It's only now, in the aftermath of the fight, that Luffy's grasp on you loosens. He had been too caught up in punching and tossing Marines away to even think about letting you go. Your feet touch the deck carefully, and Luffy's rubber limbs retract as they snap back into place.

Your hands immediately move to straighten out your skirt, and you hear a huff from your Captain beside you. Glancing up, you take notice of the way he adjusts his hat, looking at you with a tilted head and a confused expression.

“Why're you wearin’ somethin’ like that, anyway? Makes it harder to fight, right?” He asks, and his tone is genuinely dumbfounded.

Your face flushes, and words die in your throat. What explanation is there? I didn't want you to toss me around? Clearly, that didn't work, and it feels a little embarrassing to say as much. You're not sure why, but telling Luffy you bought a skirt because of him feels weird. So, you clear your throat, leaning back against the railing of the ship behind you.

“Oh, um…just thought it was cute.” You lie, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I didn't think we'd be running from Marines today.”

Luffy's quiet for a moment, and his eyes flicker to your skirt only briefly. He still looks dumbfounded.

“Huh. M'kay. Just don't complain when I grab ya next time that your skirt’s goin’ up.” He responds with a grin, a playful chuckle sounding from his chest.

This son of a-

"Sanjiiii! I'm hungry! Whadda ya got?” Luffy exclaims, turning away from you decisively.

“Can it, Luffy, we just got out of port! I need to unload the groceries!” Sanji shouts from across the deck.

Even though you're still annoyed, and your skirt is still riding up, you find yourself laughing. Maybe the Captain grabbing you for adventures isn't the worst thing in the world.

#one piece #op #luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #monkey d luffy fluff #luffy fluff #luffy x reader fluff #nami #cat burglar nami #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece fanfiction #op fanfiction

462 notes · View notes

alonetimelover · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: Ginger Spice's daughter!reader x Max Verstappen (ex-Harry Styles)

fc: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: After getting over her fear of getting into a relationship, YN started to 'soft launch' her new partner. Of course everybody knew who it was, but she wanted her fun. Harry didn't like it and still was petty. Max had had enough.

warnings: swearing, some suggestive comments, talk about verbal assault and not-so-great fist fight

masterlist part 1

——————————————————————————————

maxverstappen1 and yourinstagram added to their IG story!

——————————————————————————————

formula1gossip

liked by formula1fan84 and 200 383 others

formula1gossip With the one week break between Italian and Singapore Grand Prix, the two-time World Champion - Max Verstappen - was seen cozing up with a mysterious woman on his yacht near the Amalfi Coast. Any ideas who could that be?

view all 10 394 comments

maxfan94 my man is gone

maxfan958 making out on a yacht in a bright day? who is this man?

landofan48 not to be bold but i think i know exactly who that is

ynsmymama GUYS GUYS GUYS Ma'x story from yesterday and YN's were definitely one photo!

⤷ maxfan67 how?

⤷ ynsmybestie YN's story was the cropped version of Max's

ynsmybestie this is YN YSN, no thank you, i don't need confirmation - I KNOW

landonorris interesting

⤷ landofan49 WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ?!

⤷ landonorris I LIKE GOSSIP

⤷ danielricciardo he's gonna kill you! prepare to end up in the wall on sunday, lando! nice knowing you!

⤷ landonorris mclaren i need new insurance

⤷ mclaren Fight your wars, Lando. Fight your own wars.

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 3 011 393 others

yourinstagram life lately has been exciting 💛

view all 99 202 comments

landonorris you rehearsing???

⤷ yourinstagram shhh, im making new music

landonorris will you be my photographer forever??

⤷ yourinstagram you only like the photo cause it's a thirst trap

⤷ landonorris shhhh, don't tell people

danielricciardo was the restaurant worth it?

⤷ yourinstagram you know it, dan

maxverstappen1 💛💛

carlossainz55 i like the fourth photo

⤷ yourinstagram I LIKE YOUUUUUUU

ynsmybestie WHAT IS THIS

ynsmybestie lando thirst trap???????

⤷ user84 he's not without a shirt though?

⤷ ynsmybestie HE DOESN'T NEED TO, HE'S STILL HOT

ynsmymama not only showing us that she's making new music but SOFT LAUNCHING ??? like if we didn't know already who that is

⤷ ynshands let's just pretend and see what happens

comment liked by yourinstagram and maxverstappen1

ynxmax no way that my ship has sailed no way

ynupdates new music when???

⤷ yourinstagram sooner than you think 🫣

user92 she already has a new boyfriend?

⤷ ynsmybestie already? it's been 6 months since it was made public that yn and harry broke up. and considering all the interviews and songs, they'd been broken up longer than that

⤷ ynsmymama you can say that or just shut your mouth user92

ynshands i just know that the last photo was taken after Singapore... that man was furious

⤷ maxandyn don't even... i'm blushing

⤷ ynsmybestie they all said that lando would end up in the wall and here he was on the 2nd place

⤷ ynsmymama the way that YN was cheering for Lando, knowing that Max had no chance anymore. this is a true friendship. and her jumping up and down at the podium ceremony????? I LOVE HER

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, danielricciardo and 3 383 032 others

yourinstagram got a man and here's the aftermath... NONSENSE EP is all yours to listen right now!

view all 42 394 comments

landonorris no problem yn for contributing to your cover photo! i am very thankful for the credit!

⤷ yourinstagram you know damn well why that credit is not there

⤷ landonorris but he took the photo with MY camera!

⤷ yourinstagram so i guess it's not my album because my pen wrote down the words

⤷ landonorris well, when you put it like that...

maxverstappen1 💛💛

⤷ ynsmybestie love me some man that comments same thing under my posts

danielricciardo STREAMING IT RIGHT NOW - KEEP YOU UPDATED

⤷ danielricciardo call it what you want - fit like a daydream? build a fire? starry eyes? yeah, he has those. you already wear that necklace he got you, don't you?

⤷ danielricciardo slut! - tangerine? what were you doing in the mclaren paddock, hmm?

⤷ danielricciardo bad for business - you've gone crazy, that's right. i've never seen you this crazily happy.

⤷ danielricciardo you are in love - i'll never forget the look in his eyes when he said "you are my best friend". and the photo on the desk is absolutely adorable (i'm going to be sick)

⤷ danielricciardo i think he knows - boyish look??? did you hear his jokes? he IS a boy! 26 yo and still a child. you'll drive? if he trusts you with the car you might as well get married, no kidding.

⤷ danielricciardo nonsense - WHY WOULD YOU RELEASE IT? WHY WHY WHY... I NEED TO BLEACH MY EYES AND DO SOMETHING MY MEMORY AND FORGET THIS SONGS EXIST. I WON'T BE ABLE TO LOOK BOTH OF YOU IN THE EYES NOW.

⤷ yourinstagram have you consider a career in doing yt reaction videos? you'd be gold

ynupdates i can't wait for twitter to react to all of these...

——————————————————————————————

danielricciardo, landonorris and maxverstappen1 added to their IG story!

——————————————————————————————

www.dailymail.com/harry_styles_confronted_max_verstappen

Harry Styles confronted Max Verstappen

Just last night after YN YSN's secret concert in Las Vegas, her ex-boyfriend, Mr Treat People With Kindness (Harry Styles) decided to 'bump into' his ex-lover and 'talk'. According to the fans on scene - it was aggressive, blatant and simply sad how Harry supposedly treated YSN.

When the concert ended and the lights went out, fans started to exit the venue and making their way home. Some of them decided to move to the back and patiently wait for the VIP people leaving. VIP list for that concert consisted of two World Champions - Lewis Hamilton and apparent new boyfriend of YN's - Max Verstappen, plus some of other F1 drivers. In the attendance were also YN's mum - Geri Horner and step-dad - Christian Horner.

Finally, YN went out first, but no one could even start asking anything when from thin air appeared Harry Styles - drunk and rocky. The yelling match started, which caught the attention of more people, but especially the said VIPs.

"Max literally flew from the doors and stood between Harry and YN. By that time, YN was crying and shaking from all the insults and swears that were spoken to her. Harry tried to move past Max, but he held him in place, placing a hand on Harry's chest. The singer didn't like it and pushed the driver. Now, the other drivers had also gone out and surrounded the trio. Two of them took care of YN and others were in place to eventually stop the fight. They couldn't. Harry took the first swing, but considering that he was drunk, Max could easily duck and wait for his turn. At the end, Max just went up to Harry and said something - looking him directly in the eyes, knuckles white and all that. Finally, they all left, leaving Harry there, sitting by the door. Max was holding YN so she wouldn't fall from all the shaking," said one of the witnesses.

Do you think that YN or Max will report an assault?

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram added to her IG story!

——————————————————————————————

daniel3.jpg

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1 004 931 others

daniel3.jpg yn and her nonsense boy whenever they're within half a meter radius

view all 84 493 comments

yourinstagram DANIEL JOSEPH RICCIARDO

yourinstagram what in the hell are you doing??

⤷ danielricciardo i'm soft launching

⤷ yourinstagram my relationship?

⤷ danielricciardo YOU SAID YOURSELF THAT YOU WANTED TO DO IT

⤷ yourinstagram YEAH ME! and there's nothing 'soft' about it

⤷ danielricciardo maybe i chose some risky photos

⤷ yourinstagram too late. he just left to give you a visit :))

⤷ landonorris pray for daniel people! the man may have a boyish look but his a mad man!

⤷ yourinstagram and then he's visiting you, lan

ynupdates that is max verstappen. if i ever saw max verstappen that's him

ynsmymama nonsense making sense know

ynsmybestie I love that they still play the 'soft launching' game when just few days ago she was singing about Max's BDE

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram added to her IG story!

——————————————————————————————

yourinstagram

liked by maxvertsappen1, danielricciardo and 5 003 238 others

yourinstagram win, party, afterparty

SCREW SOFT LAUNCHING - MY BOYFRIEND IS A 3 TIME WORLD CHAMPION, WHAT ABOUT YOURS??

view all 339 492 comments

maxvertsappen1 MY GIRLFRIEND IS A NATIONAL TRESSURE

⤷ maxverstappen1 Did I do it right, yourinstagram?

⤷ yourinstagram YES YOU DID MY LOVE

maxverstappen1 I love you

⤷ yourinstagram I LOVE YOU

danielricciardo who are you and what have you done with yn?

⤷ yourinstagram that's the thing - I'm finally me, unapologetically

⤷ danielricciardo I couldn't be happier for my best friend for finding someone that makes her the best version of herself

⤷ yourinstagram you sap! love you, riccy ric

danielricciardo I thank heavens that Geri or Christian are not looking at you account

⤷ yourinstagram oh she does "dad's rethinking the christmas dinner invitation" was her text

landonorris got (love)sick all over my bed from this content

landonorris congratulations Max, you champ! and congrats yn for making it through the night

⤷ maxverstappen1 Thanks, Lando. And she did really good.

⤷ landonorris keep it in you pants, will you?

⤷ yourinstagram I'm done.

charles_leclerc Congratulations!

ynupdates daddy max??? what in the hell

ynsmymama all those photos scream: I HAD A NIGHT TO REMMEBER

⤷ yourinstagram i did.

maxfan49 i've never seen him happier

maxfan93 rue when was this?

⤷ maxverstappen1 Last night / this morning?

⤷ maxfan98 what. in. the. hell.

ynsfan49 they really said: i'm in love, i have great nights and i'm gonna make that everybody problem

liked by yourinstagram and maxverstappen1

ynsfan95 my boyfriend is graduating tomorrow with an engineer degree!

⤷ yourinstagram SLAYYY

——————————————————————————————

maxverstappen1

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2 002 182 others

maxverstappen1 You're my best friend. 💛💛

view all 200 385 comments

landonorris say thank you to the third wheel of the year, max

⤷ maxverstappen1 stop flirting with my girlfriend then

⤷ landonorris i know you're thankful

⤷ danielricciardo leave him, max. it's the only thing that was left for him - hopeless flirting

⤷ landonorris do you know the sentence that starts with f and ends with u and has uck yo in the middle?

danielricciardo mama y papa

⤷ yourinstagram someone take that phone away from you

⤷ maxverstappen1 You're older than us

yourinstagram got my heartbeat skipping down 16th avenue

⤷ danielricciardo are you quoting your own song?

⤷ yourinstagram no, i'm quoting words i said to him last night before falling asleep in his arms

liked by maxverstappen1 and 502 392 others

⤷ danielricciardo damn

charles_leclerc finally! i wouldn't be able to keep it a secret anymore

⤷ yourinstagram you spilled the beans to your engineers twenty minutes after we had told you

⤷ charles_leclerc but i didn't tell anybody else

⤷ pierregasly you told me!

⤷ georgerussell63 me too!

ynupdates SHE IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE TOO. YOU'RE NOT SPECIAL MAXIMUS

⤷ maxverstappen1 That's not my name!

⤷ yourinstagram Maximus??? i love it

ynsmybestie screw soft launching, leave it for Max to HARD launch

⤷ yourinstagram I thought I "hard" launched???

⤷ ynsmymama double meaning queen

——————————————————————————————

a/n: do we move on from this pair or crave some more drama?

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x singer!reader #max verstappen fic #harry styles x reader

3K notes · View notes