#🎶…accents

[pjjays]

˗ˏˋ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚓𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 ;; 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟸𝟶, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟸 ;; 𝟷𝟾𝟶 𝚌𝚖 ´ˎ˗

✎…single ;; interested ;; mono ;; music major au·˚ ༘

✧˖*°࿐ “you want to hear my sick riff? okay… 사랑해요” ✮

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯ | ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ | ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

[saetoru]

being on blue lock tik tok means watching rin speak english in that one episode and then going to the comments and watching all the white people laugh about the way he speaks 😒

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of the people I worked with at the sex shop was a lady in her early forties. She had the most deranged sex stories and to be honest I could never tell how much was real.

I think probably all of it was true? But when someone tells you that a man showed up at her door with a sheet cake he wanted her to sit on so he could eat it off her ass it’s fair to be somewhat skeptical. Like I know cake sitting is real but did it really happen to her?

Aaaanyway. She hooked up a lot and ended up on a casual date with this guy. She was really stoked to be wearing a button up shirt with snaps, so later when they got to his place she could rip the shirt open like in the movies.

Now, it's worth noting she was a bigger gal, and her cleavage could have suffocated a grown man, it was substantial. There was a lot of boob real estate, okay?

So they get back to his place, and she finally gets to have her moment. She rips her shirt open dramatically, displaying the wealth of her cleavage. At first her dates face was excited and delighted. But as his eyes trailed down he began to slowly frown, which I think we can all agree is not what anyone wants when you've just laid yourself bare in a literal fashion.

She looked down to check herself, and there, nestled like a little baby bird in a nest of boob, was a single dorito.

When she told me this story she admitted, "I knew I had a choice. I could get laid, or I could eat the chip."

She ate the chip.

Her date looked repulsed, but she wanted to take one last crack at riding that man, so she did jazz hands and sang in a silly vaudevillian accent, "🎶You should probably put yer meat in me! You should probably put yer meat in me!🎶"

He drove her home shortly afterward, the coward.

[clanoffelidae]

Headcanon that The Doctor is fluent in human languages and how they’re heard is actually how they’re speaking, no translation necessary, they Speak Human Good

The Master, meanwhile, is fluent in the languages yes; they’re human languages it’s not like they’re complicated; but hasn’t bothered to ‘go native’ and perfect their pronunciation because it’s such a waste of time to lower themself to that drivel when they can use their superior Time Lord technology to translate for them and make them sound however they need

Which means that The Master has a ridiculously thick High Gallifreyan accent

And since we always describe High Gallifreyan as being song-like…

-TARDIS breaks down and translation circuit is no longer functional-

Master: -speaks in high gallifreyan to the doctor-

Doctor: no, come on, we can’t do this all by ourselves, you have to include the others in the conversation as well

Master: -starts scribbling out their words on a piece of paper-

Doctor: no, we don’t have time for that! we need to figure out what we’re going to do now and don’t have time for you to sit there writing everything down; come on, i know you speak english, just say what you need to say

Master: >:(

Doctor: come on :)

Master: …

Master: -through gritted teeth-🕺🎶I’m going to fucking stab you🎶💃

[snowseasonmademe]

Further, Faster, Harder.

word count: 7,747

warning ‼️: a LOT of smut (multiple positions), biiiigggggg age gap (20 years)

paring: boyfriend lewis x black female reader

summary: Lewis wanted to make you feel extra special on your (shared) special day.

note: this is a long one yall, but lewis and i are the same zodiac so i wrote a little 🎶birthday sex🎶 fic. he just so happens to be almost exactly 20 years older than me and apparently i like old men so i couldn’t pass this up! i hope you all enjoy, and ofc tell me what you think ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The low, throaty purr of an all-black Ferrari SF90 Stradale echoed through the crisp January evening as you glanced out the passenger window. The car felt alive beneath you, its engine a symphony of power that hummed through the leather seats. The London skyline shimmered ahead, a sea of lights that seemed to stretch endlessly, while the glow of the dashboard bathed the sleek interior in an ambient red hue. Despite the chill in the air outside, warmth bubbled in your chest. It was your birthday—your mutual birthday—a twist of fate that had felt oddly serendipitous from the moment you and Lewis first discovered it.

He shifted gears with practiced ease, his hand briefly brushing the edge of your thigh. “So” he began, his voice smooth and teasing, “did you really think I’d let us spend our day any other way?”

You snorted, pulling the caramel-hued coat tighter around you, not for warmth but because his presence always seemed to steal the air. “Oh, absolutely not. I fully expected flashy cars, a private dinner, and you trying—very unsuccessfully, might I add—to outshine my birthday with yours.”

Lewis let out a low, rich laugh that filled the car, his dimple appearing in the dim light as he stole a quick glance at you. “Please. Let’s not pretend it’s a competition. Everyone knows the better Capricorn here its obvious.”

You raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “Obvious? That’s a bold claim for someone who just hit 40. You’re practically ancient now.”

He shot you a mock-offended look, his British accent sharpening with playfulness. “Ancient? Forty’s the peak of my prime. Haven’t you heard? I’m like fine wine.”

“Yeah, fine wine that’s been aged a bit too long” you teased, your laughter dancing through the space between you.

“Chill” he warned, a wicked smile tugging at his lips as he smoothly turned a corner, the Ferrari responding like a predator stalking the night. “This ancient man just might leave you walking home.”

“Walking home? In this coat?” You gestured dramatically at your outfit. “You’d be doing London a favor. People need to see me.”

“True” he admitted, his grin widening. “You do look stunning. But I think we both know you’d rather freeze than miss this ride.”

You leaned back in the plush seat, letting your fingers trail over the soft leather armrest. “I don’t know. Your little Ferrari phase might’ve won me over. For now.”

He let out a sharp laugh. “Little Ferrari phase? Tell that to the team—they’d love that description.”

The playful banter carried you through the streets until the car finally pulled to a stop in front of a riverside restaurant that practically screamed elegance.

Inside, the restaurant felt like stepping into another world. The glow of candlelight flickered against the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting shadows that danced on the polished hardwood floors. The Thames flowed serenely outside, its reflection catching the city’s twinkling lights.

The maître d’ greeted you both with warmth, though his polite smile lingered on Lewis just a little too long for your liking. You shot him a knowing glance, which Lewis met with a raised brow and an amused smirk, as if to say, You’re jealous.

“Only the best for the birthday queen” Lewis declared as he pulled out your chair, his voice dipped in that velvety British lilt that always made your stomach flutter.

You tilted your head at him, feigning disappointment. “And here I was thinking you’d forgotten the tiara.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “Not forgotten. Just saving the best for later.”

The dinner unfolded like a dream. Each dish was a masterpiece, from the perfectly seared scallops to the rich, velvety dessert that melted on your tongue. The wine was as smooth as the conversation, which flowed effortlessly between the two of you, laced with wit and the kind of intimacy that could only come from two people who knew each other down to the smallest detail.

“Seriously, though” you said, swirling the last of your wine in the glass. “How does it feel being forty? Do you get senior discounts now?”

Lewis set down his fork, leaning back in his chair with an amused glint in his eye. “I’ll have you know I’m still younger at heart than you. But if senior discounts include free wine, I might consider it.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Free wine or not, you’re officially in ‘bee keeper’ territory now.”

“And yet here you are” he shot back, his tone sly as he rested his chin on his hand, “celebrating your big 2-0 with me. What does that say about your taste, love?”

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh. “That I have a thing for men with ridiculous levels of confidence.”

“Ridiculous confidence is just another way of saying I’ve got good reason.”

Somewhere between dessert and the end of the second bottle of wine, Lewis leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, I’ve never spent a birthday like this before.”

You raised a brow. “What, you mean being roasted by someone half your age?”

“No” he said with a soft laugh, his gaze locking with yours. “I mean, spending it with someone who makes it unforgettable.”

Heat crept up your neck as the words settled over you. For once, you were grateful for the low lighting, knowing he’d catch the blush on your face if the room were any brighter. “You’ve got good lines, Hamilton. I’ll give you that.”

He smirked, his dimple reappearing. “And here you thought I was ancient.”

The drive back to his place was quieter now, the low hum of the Ferrari’s engine filling the silence as the city lights smeared into a kaleidoscope of golds and whites against the window. You watched the world rush by, your cheek pressed lightly against the cool glass, your mind swirling with the events of the evening. Lewis’s hand rested on the gear shift, his thumb occasionally brushing against your knee, a small but grounding gesture that sent tiny sparks up your spine.

Lewis had a way of making silence feel intimate, like you were sharing a secret only the two of you could understand. He’d crack the occasional joke, his British accent wrapping around his words in that smooth, teasing way of his, but he also seemed content to just be with you, letting the moment stretch without feeling the need to fill it.

“I’m just saying” you broke the silence, a playful lilt in your voice, “you’ve got way too much energy for someone turning 40. Should I be worried you’re one of those guys who lies about his age?”

He glanced at you, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Love, if I were lying, don’t you think I’d say I’m younger? What kind of idiot would round up to 40?”

You bit back a laugh. “Fair point. Still, you’ve got that youthful glow. Should I be looking for a fountain of youth around here?”

“Funny. I was going to say the same about you,” he quipped, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning to the road. “Though I think the real secret is being around me. I have that effect, you know.”

“Ah, yes” you teased, your voice dripping with mock sincerity. “Sir Lewis Hamilton, F1 driver, philanthropist, anti-aging elixir. Truly a man of many talents.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and effortless. “Don’t forget humble. That’s the most important one.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. The kind of banter you shared felt as natural as breathing, a testament to how far you’d come in the past year. Last year, you’d been strangers, exchanging polite birthday messages in a group chat. Now, almost a year into your relationship, celebrating this day together felt nothing short of surreal.

When the car finally pulled into his building’s private garage, you followed him up to his penthouse. As soon as you stepped inside, the soft scent of amber and cedarwood and cinnamon greeted you, enveloping you like a warm hug. The space was immaculate but still inviting, every detail reflecting Lewis’s refined yet cozy taste. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering London skyline, but your attention was drawn to the setup near the fireplace: a nest of plush blankets and pillows, their edges catching the soft glow of the flames, and a small black box wrapped neatly with a satin ribbon sitting in the center.

“Planning to smother me with luxury tonight?” you teased, slipping off your coat and draping it over a nearby chair.

He shot you a sidelong glance, his lips curling into that signature dimpled smile. “Only if you let me.”

Crossing the room, he picked up the box and handed it to you with both hands, his tone softening. “Happy birthday.”

You sank down onto the blankets, crossing your legs as you carefully untied the ribbon. The room seemed to hold its breath as you lifted the lid, revealing a delicate gold necklace nestled inside. The pendant was sleek and minimalist, the numbers 2040 shimmering in the firelight—your ages this year, intertwined in a way that felt both simple and profound.

You ran your fingers over the numbers, the cool metal warming under your touch. “Lewis…” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you looked up at him, emotions you couldn’t quite name rising in your chest.

He knelt in front of you, his hands steady as he unclasped the necklace. “I wanted you to have something to remember this year by” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “Our first birthday together. The first of many, hopefully.”

The necklace was cool against your skin as he fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing against the nape of your neck in a way that sent a shiver through you.

“Cheesy” you managed to say, though your voice wavered slightly. “Really cheesy.”

He leaned back, a slow, confident smile spreading across his face. “You love it.”

“Maybe” you admitted, your lips curving into a soft smile. “You’re still ridiculous, though. You know that, right?”

He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Only for you, love. Only for you.”

And in that moment, as the firelight danced across his features and the weight of the necklace settled warmly against your chest, you knew this was a birthday you’d never forget.

The crackle of the fire filled the space as silence stretched between you, comfortable and unspoken. He reached out, his fingers brushing along your cheek with a tenderness that made your breath catch. The air between you felt charged, thick with something unnameable yet impossible to ignore. He didn’t speak, but his gaze said everything. It was the kind of look that promised a night you’d carry with you long after the embers of the fire died out.

Wordlessly, he offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. Your bodies moved in sync, a slow dance as he guided you away from the cozy setup near the fireplace. The city lights spilled across the polished floors of the penthouse, casting soft, flickering reflections. The world outside felt miles away, as if time had bent itself around the two of you, creating a space that existed only for this moment.

When you reached the edge of the couch, he paused, his hand slipping from yours to settle lightly on your waist. The tension between you buzzed like a live wire, your breaths shallow and synchronized as you stood inches apart. He reached up, his thumb brushing against the gold pendant resting at your collarbone.

“This suits you” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, deep and velvety.

You tilted your head, meeting his eyes. “You’re biased” you teased softly, though the words came out shakier than you’d intended.

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Damn right I am” he said, his fingers trailing from the necklace to the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

And then, finally, he kissed you

The first kiss was thoughtful, like he was savoring every second of you. His lips were warm, soft, yet firm in their intent, coaxing a response that set your nerves alight. The faint taste of wine lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck while the other settled firmly on your waist.

When he pulled back just enough to look at you, your lips tingled from the contact. The smirk that spread across your face was full of mischief, your eyes glittering in the dim light. “You know” you began, your voice sultry but teasing, “I’ve never had birthday sex with an old man before.”

Lewis stilled for half a second, then let out a deep, throaty chuckle, his dimple flashing in a way that made your pulse skip. “Old man?” he repeated, his voice dripping with mock indignation. “You’re really leaning into this, aren’t you?”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “I mean, forty’s practically dinosaur age. Should I grab your reading glasses before we get started?”

The laugh that followed was low and dangerous, his grip on your waist tightening as he tugged you flush against him. “Keep that up y/n” he murmured, his tone dropping to a husky rasp that sent a shiver down your spine, “this so-called old man is about to ruin you.”

Your grin widened, your fingers trailing along the line of his jaw. “Bold words for someone who’s practically collecting a pension.”

He responded without hesitation, his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dipped even lower. “You’re about to love this ‘old man dick’ sweetheart.”

You laughed a bit then your breath hitched in your throat, your teasing façade faltering for a split second. Before you could come up with a retort, he claimed your mouth again, the kiss harder this time, more insistent. His hands explored your body with a practiced precision that made your skin hum in anticipation.

When he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. “Pretty strong for a grandpa” you teased breathlessly, but your voice cracked with laughter as he spun you around, his mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the curve of your neck.

“You talk a big game” he shot back, his words muffled against your skin, “but let’s see if you can handle me”

By the time he carried you into the bedroom, the world beyond those walls didn’t exist. The room was bathed in soft streaks of silver light from the city below, the faint hum of life outside muffled by the thick glass of the windows. But the only thing you were aware of was him—the heat radiating from his body, the controlled strength in his movements, the way his touch left trails of fire wherever his hands and lips explored.

The bed was impossibly soft beneath you, though you barely noticed as he leaned over you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His hands moved with a tantalizing slowness, fingers skimming along the hem of your dress before sliding it up, inch by inch, until you felt the cool air against your skin.

“You look stunning” he murmured, his voice reverent but laced with heat as his eyes roamed over you. “Better than I deserve, really.”

You arched a brow, your lips curving into a smirk. “Glad you’re finally admitting it.”

He let out another low chuckle, the sound vibrating through you as his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Smart mouth” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing. “Let’s see how long you can keep that up.”

And just like that, words became irrelevant. The moments following were a blur of heat and sensation, a symphony of whispered confessions and breathless laughter that gave way to moans and the sound of tangled sheets. You both lay on the bed bare and craving each other beyond measure. His fingers traced a feather-light path down your collarbone, causing you to shiver despite the lingering warmth between you. He followed that trail with his lips, kissing each spot softly before moving lower. You arched into him, your nails raking gently across his back as his mouth found the sensitive curve of your breast.

His touch was both commanding and tender, guiding you with a confidence that left no doubt he knew exactly how to unravel you. His tongue swirled around your nipple, the teasing flick a jolt of electricity straight to your core. A gasp escaped you, your fingers tangling in his braided hair as he lavished the tender bud with attention. His hand mirrored the action on your other breast, kneading with just the right amount of pressure.

As he continued his sensual care on your breasts, his other hand wandered lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. His fingers parted your folds, stroking through your slick heat with agonizing slowness. You moan in relief as you finally felt the touch in the place you’ve been wanting all night.

"Shit y/n you’re so wet for me already” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. His fingers continued their teasing rhythm, circling your clit but never quite touching it directly. The taunting motion had your hips lifting helplessly, searching for more contact. “Gotta give my best for my birthday boy” you say with a teasing smile on your face

"Mmm, seems like someone's eager tonight" he teased breathlessly, your fingers tightening their grip in his hair. Arching again, you pressed harder against his teasing fingertips, desperate for relief. "Well stop teasing and fuck me already" you demanded, your voice thick with desire.

A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest as he broke away from your breasts, his eyes meeting yours with an intense, knowing gaze. "How dare you talk to the birthday boy like that?” he chuckled mocking you, finally pressing directly against your clit, making you gasp. "I have plans for you though. I can’t let you get away with making fun of all night baby.”

"And what plans would those be?" you managed to ask between panting breaths, your body winding tighter with each skilled movement of his fingers. He didn't answer with words, instead capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as his fingers continued their expert dance.

His tongue slid against yours in a mimicking what his fingers were doing below, making you moan into his mouth. Then, suddenly, he slid two of his thick, tattooed fingers deep inside you, his thumb still circling your clit.

The dual sensations had your back arching off the bed, breaking the kiss as you let out a loud moan. The feeling making you almost salivate "Oh god” you gasped, your body clenching around his fingers, desperate for more. "More…” you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need more..."

He complied with a wicked grin, pumping his fingers faster and harder, the wet sounds of your pussy filling the air as he drove you closer to the edge. "Like this baby?" he growled, his forehead pressed against yours.

"Yes” you exhaled, your body trembling as he hit that perfect spot inside you. The wet sounds of your arousal turing you on more, —if that was even possible — your body craved even more of him. "Uuh but It's not enough” you wailed, writhing beneath him. "I need you, not your fingers” you say grabbing his shoulder. He chuckled darkly, slowly pulling his fingers out.

He didn’t make you wait another second, his movements efficient as he stripped away the last barriers between your bodies. Each piece of clothing fell to the floor in a whisper, leaving him bare before you—a vision of strength and heat. His hands returned to your thighs, firm but tender as he guided them around his waist, his touch igniting sparks across your skin.

The anticipation was almost unbearable, the space between you charged with unspoken hunger. His body hovered over yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. He softly brushed his hands along your thighs, lined himself up with you, his thick length brushing against your dripping entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

When he finally thrusts forward, the world seemed to shift. One powerful motion had him burying himself inside you, stretching you in a way that stole your breath. Your back arched instinctively, your body surrendering to the sensation of being completely filled. The exquisite pressure was both overwhelming and perfect, a mix of fullness and connection that sent shockwaves rippling through you.

“This better?” he rasped, his voice thick and gravelly, the sound vibrating through your chest. His hands gripped your hips, grounding you as he pulled back just enough to make you ache for more, only to stroke back in with a slow pace that left you trembling.

A choked moan escaped your lips, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensation. “Oh yes” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, but the desperate edge in it said everything.

Lewis tilted his head, a smug grin curling at the corners of his lips as he watched your reaction. “You feel so good baby” he murmured, his hips setting a steady rhythm. Each thrust was felt like a piece of heaven, his movements slow enough to let you feel every inch of him, but powerful enough to leave you breathless.

The way he fucked you was relentless, the friction and heat building with every thrust. His body was pressed tightly to yours, his heavy, hot body brushing against your chest with each motion, his breath hot against your neck. The room seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, wrapped in a haze of heat, desire, and the raw, primal connection that tethered you together.

As he drove deeper, his grip on your hips tightened, his thumbs pressing into your soft skin as if anchoring himself in the moment. “Look at me” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you”

Your gaze locked with his, the intensity in his dark eyes making your pulse quicken. Every thrust sent ripples of pleasure through you, the rhythm building as he took you higher, each movement precise, unrelenting, and filled with purpose.

“Does that feel good?” he asked again, his voice rough and laced with amusement as he pushed deeper still, watching the way your body arched to meet his.

“Perfect” you managed to gasp, your nails raking down his back as he buried himself fully inside you once more.

Your voice broke into a raw, unrestrained scream, your nails carving crescents into the taut muscles of his back. Each thrust sent a wave of sensation through your body, igniting every nerve like a live wire. Lewis gripped you with unrelenting force, his fingers digging into your flesh as though he never wanted to let go. His pace was punishing and purposeful, each stroke a calculated attempt to claim every inch of you.

The slickness of your arousal coated his dick, allowing him to move in and out with sinful ease, his deep, guttural groans echoing your breathless cries. His chest brushed against yours, the heat of his skin matching the fire coursing through your veins. “Feel that?” he rasped into your ear, guiding your hand to you lower abdomen. “You feel where I am inside you y/n?” You could feel him beating at your insides underneath your hands, leaving you dizzy.

You gasped, your body tightening around him at his words. But then, a bold thought slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “I wanna ride you.”

His movements stilled for a heartbeat, and then a wicked smile curved his lips. “I love it when you take control” he murmured, his voice filled with equal parts admiration and desire. Without hesitation, he grabbed your waist and flipped you onto him with fluid ease, his strength sending a thrill down your spine.

Before you could catch your breath, you were astride him, your thighs pressed against his hips as his dick filled you completely. The angle was new, deeper, more intense, and it stole the air from your lungs. His hands found your breasts, warm palms cupping the sensitive curves. His thumbs teased your nipples, the gentle pinch sending shocks of pleasure down your spine.

“Go on” he said, his eyes dark with need. “Show me what you’ve got.”

His words spurred you on, your hands bracing against his chest as you began to move. The muscles beneath your fingers flexed with each thrust as he met your rhythm, his body rising to match every roll of yours. The friction sent waves of heat cascading through you, and the soft, slick sounds of your bodies moving together only added to the intoxicating haze of the moment. You couldn’t believe how wet you are, soaking both of the lower extremities with each thrust out.

His hands slid from your breasts to your waist, guiding your movements but leaving you firmly in control. “There you baby” he groaned, his voice ragged. “Take your dick. It’s all yours.”

Your head tipped back as you found your pace, the pleasure building higher with each roll of your hips. Your long hair cascaded down your back, brushing against his hands as they roamed over your curves. His eyes roamed your body, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved.

“Damn” he muttered, his grip tightening on your waist. “You’re so fucking sexy like this.”

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for your lips to hover near his ear. “I know” you teased and winked, your voice breathy but still laced with confidence.

Lewis chuckled, his hands sliding lower to grip your hips again, the movement sending sparks racing through you. “Cocky tonight, huh?” he challenged, him grinding sharply to meet you, making you cry out, shutting you up.

You threw your head back once more, your long hair tumbling in waves down your back, glinting in the dim light as it swayed with your every movement. You rolled your body with an urgency born of desire, rising and falling as you took him deeper than ever before. Each motion sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, a delicious mixture of control and submission as you rode him with abandon.

Lewis’s hands were strong on your waist, his grip possessive as he guided your movements. He met your grinding with powerful thrusts of his own, his body rising from the bed to drive deeper into you, each stroke aimed with precision that left you trembling. The thickness of his dick stretched you in all the right ways, hitting that sweet, devastating spot inside you that made your vision blur.

A whimper escaped your lips, followed by a breathless moan, your sounds blending with the wet, rhythmic noises of your bodies colliding. The heady scent of sweat and sex filled the air, mingling with the sound of his raspy breaths and your own needy cries.

“Faster” you panted, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“Faster?” he repeated, his tone laced with mischief as one large hand left your waist and came down on your ass with a sharp smack. The sting rippled through you, blending seamlessly with the pleasure pulsing in your core, making your lower body jerk forward involuntarily. “Yeah baby” he teased breathlessly, his other hand sliding up your spine, grounding you. “Show me how bad you want it.”

Your body responded instinctively, moving with even greater speed. Your breasts bounced wildly with every rise and fall, catching his dark, hungry eyes as he watched you lose yourself above him.

“Ahh yes” he groaned, his dick throbbing inside you, pulsing in perfect time with the frantic rhythm of your bodies. His forehead glistened with sweat, his curls damp and clinging to his temples as he strained to meet every furious motion of your hips. The connection between you was electric, every nerve alight with pleasure and the sheer power of his presence beneath you.

Another sharp slap landed on your ass, making you gasp and cry out. “Fuck, you feel so good like this” he muttered, his hand immediately sliding to your lower back, pressing you forward as his other tangled in your hair. With a firm tug, he pulled you down to meet his lips in a bruising kiss.

The moment your mouths collided, the intensity between you flared brighter. His tongue slid against yours, his kiss just as commanding and relentless as the way he filled you. You could taste the taste of your lips on his lips, feel the tension in his jaw as his teeth grazed against your bottom lip, nipping just enough to make you gasp.

The heat of his chest against yours, the strength of his hands controlling your movements, and the way his body seemed to melt perfectly with yours—all of it was too much and not enough at the same time. The world narrowed to the two of you, the bed creaking beneath your combined weight as you pushed each other further, faster, harder.

“Uh- Fuck- Ah-“ he groaned against your lips, his voice raw and raspy.

“Look at you, riding your dick” he rasped, his voice low and raw as he pressed his forehead to yours, his lips brushing against yours with every labored breath. “Shit” curse fell from his lips like a confession, a whisper, the heat in his gaze burning into you.

He continued to fuck you, mirroring your movements to create the ultimate pleasure, thrust for thrust, the relentless rhythm sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. His fingers dug into your hips with such force you could feel the delicious pressure biting into your insides, a possessive mark you knew would linger long after this moment. “Harder” he growled, his voice thick with need and dominance.

The command sent a spark through you, your body responding instinctively. Letting out a desperate whimper, you adjusted your angle, planting your knees more firmly against the mattress for leverage. You began to slam down on him with every ounce of strength you could muster, taking him deeper with each thrust, the sensation of his dick filling you, driving you wild.

The room filled with the sharp, rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin, a symphony of raw passion that echoed in the air around you. Your cries mixed with his groans, creating a harmony of pleasure that left no space for anything else. His thick length hit all the right spots inside you, the perfect angle making stars burst behind your tightly closed eyelids.

“Yeeaahh there you go” he groaned, his voice a mixture of awe and desperation as his hands tightened their grip on your ass, guiding your movements. “That’s it baby, just like that.

But then, just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he shifted. With a sudden, fluid movement, he flipped you onto your stomach, his strength effortlessly handling your body like it was meant to be molded beneath his touch. The cool sheets met your flushed skin, contrasting with the fiery heat coursing through your veins.

Pulling your hips up, he positioned you on your knees, presenting your ass to him. A dark, appreciative growl rumbled in his chest as he took in the sight before him. “Such a perfect view” he murmured, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass, spreading you wide as he admired the way your glistening entrance twitched with anticipation.

The moment of teasing felt like an eternity. His dick, still slick and throbbing, brushed against your folds, the tip barely pressing into you before pulling back. Each pass sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation coiling tightly in your core.

“Lewis” you breathed sound a plea that you couldn’t hold back. Your voice trembling with need, and murmured as your face a pressed into the mattress.

He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your back firmly as he finally aligned himself with you. “I know baby. I’ve got you.”

“You feel so fucking good” he groaned, his voice thick with need as he pulled back slowly, only to slam back into you with even more force.

His strong hands grounding you as he pulled you closer, guiding the rhythm of your bodies. The new angle shifted something deep inside you, igniting a fire that spread through every nerve. Each powerful thrust sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you breathless and trembling.

The mattress beneath you dipped with every movement, your breasts brushing against the soft fabric as if it, too, responded to the intensity between you. Your fingers fisted the sheets in desperation, the cool texture a stark contrast to the heat building between your entwined bodies. The air was thick with the sounds of your connection. You reached your hand behind you to touch him, and feel even more connected as he filled you completely, over and over again.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room, bouncing off the walls and blending with the raw rhythm of your bodies. Each powerful thrust sent a jolt of electricity through you, the intensity building with every movement. The warmth of his body against yours, the sound of his ragged breathing, and the unrelenting pace all combined to set your senses alight.

“Yes, just like that” you gasped, your voice trembling with urgency as your body tightened around him, instinctively pulling him deeper. The delicious pressure and friction threatened to make you cum then and there, a tantalizing ache pooling in your core as you teetered on the edge of release. The sheer intimacy of the moment wrapped around you, pushing you closer to the brink with every heartbeat.

His hand slid around to find your most sensitive clit, his fingers skillfully matching the rhythm of his relentless movements. The instant he touched you, a surge of pleasure shot through your body, your breath catching as the tension within you coiled tighter. The precise pressure and timing were too much to bear, every nerve alive and burning with sensation.

The world seemed to fall away as you tipped over the edge, a wave of pure ecstasy crashing over you. Your body shaking uncontrollably, your inner walls clenching and pulsing around him in perfect harmony with the pleasure consuming you. He didn’t falter, fucking you fiercely, extending your orgasm, his movements guiding you through every second of the overwhelming climax.

His release finally hit, a deep groan tearing from his chest as he buried himself to the hilt, flooding your insides with his warmth. The sensation of him pulsing inside you sent a shiver down your spine, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your own climax. Slowly, he collapsed on top of you, his weight settling over you like a comforting blanket, grounding you in the moment.

His breaths were hot and heavy against your neck, his lips brushing your skin with every exhale. He nuzzled closer, his arms curling around you protectively as though he couldn’t bear to let go. “That’s my favorite position you know” he murmured, his voice low and husky, tinged with the remnants of his pleasure.

You chuckled softly, your fingers threading through his damp hair. “I figured. You get a pretty nice view from back there.”

He grinned against your skin, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. But then he paused, his hands beginning to roam over your curves with a possessive, thoughtful touch. His fingers traced the dip of your waist, and the swell of your hips.

“I think” he started, his voice trailing off as he shifted slightly, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you. His gaze was soft but smoldering, a wicked gleam dancing in his dark eyes. “I think we need to try something new.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh? You’ve already got me questioning my ability to walk tomorrow, and now you want to add something else to the mix?”

His laugh was low and rich as he sat up, pulling you along with him. The ease with which he maneuvered your body made your heart race, and before you knew it, you were straddling his lap, your arms looping instinctively around his neck. His large hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him so that your bare skin pressed together.

“Have you ever done reverse cowgirl?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, though the intensity in his gaze gave away his excitement.

You hesitated, the memory of past attempts flickering in your mind. “Yes” you admitted, your voice softer now, “but I didn’t like it before.” You avoided his eyes momentarily, not wanting to disappoint him.

His thumb brushed soothing circles over your side, his touch gentle as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “But you haven’t tried it with me” he said, his voice warm and confident, laced with a promise you couldn’t ignore. “Trust me, it’ll feel good. After I’m inside you, lean forward and grab my ankles, okay?”

His reassuring tone made you relax, the corners of your mouth lifting in a small, trusting smile. “That sounds kind of funny,” you teased lightly, “but I trust you, so I guess we can try it.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss you deeply, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt. As his lips moved against yours, his hands slid down to grip your body, the promise of something exciting lingering in the air between you.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he shifted your body effortlessly, turning you until you were straddling him in reverse cowgirl. Your knees sank into the soft mattress as you leaned forward, just as he instructed, your fingers brushing his ankles for balance. The new position stretched your muscles in an unfamiliar but exhilarating way, your body arching beautifully as you adjusted.

“Good baby” he purred, his voice molten as his hands slid up your thighs, his fingers sprawled out. His grip was firm yet gentle, guiding your movements with unspoken confidence. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly as you began to move, rocking your hips experimentally. The sensation of his dick filling you from this angle was different—intense, consuming, and deeply satisfying. You could feel every vein, ridge and curve. Slowly at first, you rose and sank onto him, each downward thrust drawing a low, guttural sound from his throat.

From behind, he had the perfect view, and he was mesmerized. His eyes rolled over the curve of your spine, the way your hair spilled down your back like a silken waterfall, and the hypnotic motion of your pussy taking him in, again and again. “Goddamn” he murmured, his voice thick with awe and lust, “just look at you.”

He couldn’t help himself, his hands roaming over your waist and back before sliding back to cup the roundness of your ass. He spread your cheeks apart slightly, his thumbs grazing your skin as he watched himself disappear inside you, the sight driving him wild. “Fuck” he groaned, his grip tightening. “Your ass looks incredible like this.”

The raw appreciation in his tone made you move more, confidence growing with every word of praise. You rolled your hips, adjusting the angle to take him even deeper, and the effect was immediate. His sharp inhale and the low curse he muttered sent a thrill through you, spurring you on.

“You feel so damn good” he rasped, his voice rough with desire. His warm hands traveled up to your waist, wrapping around you firmly as he began to meet your movements with upward thrusts, burying himself even harder and deeper. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by his low groans and your breathy moans.

“Fuck fuck fuck “ he growled, his voice breaking with raw need. “I can’t get enough of this pussy.” His hands returned to your ass, spreading you wider to take him fully, the sight of your stretched entrance swallowing his girthy length repeatedly making his restraint fray. “This feels so fucking good oh my go-“ you moan out, gripping his ankles.

The angle, the intensity, the way his hands guided you—it all combined into a dizzying blend of pleasure that left you utterly undone, completely lost in the rhythm you shared. His words were a heady mix of filth and reverence, fueling the fire building deep within you.

He moved with an intensity, his pace quickening as he drove into you hard, each powerful thrust echoing through your body. The rhythmic sound of your bodies meeting filled the room once again, a heady mix of his labored breathing, deep groans of pleasure, and the unmistakable slickness of your shared desire. His grip on your hips tightened possessively, his fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself to the moment.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum so deep inside you” he growled, his voice rough and low, thick with need. The promise sent a shiver through you, igniting something primal as you moved together, his hips rising to meet each of your movements in perfect synchronization. “Keep going like that, yes” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Your body obeyed instinctively, the rhythm growing more urgent as the tension between you built. The impact of your bodies meeting sent so much pleasure through you, your chest heaving as your breasts moved with every motion. The heat between you burned hotter, his body taut beneath yours as his control began to stray. You could feel him getting closer with every deep, purposeful thrust, his need pushing you both toward the inevitable.

“Take it all baby. Fuck, I wish you could see how good you look right now” he growled, his voice rough with a mix of desire and command. His eyes locked into you as he watched your body move against him, the sight of you bouncing on his dick driving him to the brink of madness. The way your tight walls clenched around him was almost too much, pulling him deeper into a haze of pure, unrelenting need.

He felt your release building, the way your body trembled and tightened betraying just how close you were. “Not yet” he murmured, his voice strained, though it was as much for himself as it was for you. He was holding on by a thread, the fire in his core threatening to erupt. Truthfully, he’d been on the edge since he got you into this position, but he refused to give in just yet. He wanted to savor every second, knowing there were still so many rounds to come.

He leaned forward slightly, his lips brushing your ear as he rasped, “Keep going Y/n. Don’t stop. I know you can”

The raw command in his tone sent a shiver through you, spurring you on.

His hands moved over your body eagerly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your sides as if anchoring you to him. He explored every inch of you with reverence and hunger—tracing the curve of your thighs, squeezing your waist, sliding his hands up to press against your stomach as if trying to pull you closer, impossibly close, onto his throbbing dick. His breathing turned ragged, his words dissolving into guttural grunts as he fought to hold back, desperate to let this moment stretch out just a little longer.

Finally, with a raw, loud, groan of pleasure, he gave in to his climax, his body shuddering as his release overtook him. His dick pulsed deep inside you, each wave of ecstasy pouring into your trembling pussy. His arms locked around you with a possessive intensity, holding you firmly in place as he emptied himself into your eagerly waiting depths, refusing to let even an inch of space separate you.

For a moment, time stilled. His chest heaved against your back, his ragged breaths hot against your skin as he stayed buried inside you, savoring the aftershocks of pleasure that rippled through both of you. His grip on your waist softened slightly, shifting into something more tender, his hands brushing over your skin as though grounding himself in the intimacy of the moment.

He pressed his face into your hair, the scent of you pulling a low, satisfied hum from deep in his chest. “Damn” he murmured softly, his lips grazing the back of your neck as he nuzzled closer. “I fucking love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his voice laced with both affection and raw desire.

His arms remained wrapped around you, holding you close as the heat between you lingered, neither of you willing to break the connection just yet.

Time washed away, each moment blending into the next until you collapsed against his chest, your skin slick with the lingering heat of passion. His arm wrapped around you, his fingers lazily tracing soft circles along your back as you rested your head against him. His heart beat steadily beneath your cheek, a soothing rhythm that grounded you in the aftermath of the whirlwind you’d just shared.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and gentle. “Best birthday yet?” you asked, your voice low and slightly drowsy but still tinged with that familiar mischievous edge.

He let out a satisfied hum, nuzzling against him. “Definitely. Though I’ve decided—next year, I’m getting my gift first.”

Your soft laugh rumbled through his chest, and you felt the vibration as much as you heard it. “We’ll see about that, love. You might have to pop a few viagra next year.”

You couldn’t help but grin, your eyelids growing heavy as the warmth of his body and the sound of his voice lulled you to the edge of sleep. “Viagra or not , now you’re stuck with this old man.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you murmured, your voice a soft promise as he held you close, the city lights casting a gentle glow over the two of you.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Congratulations on 3k!!

Pop music with Sergei "You're my kryptonite” and “"So... are you just gonna keep staring or are you going to kiss me?"”

Ty!

SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION

i didn't add the "You're my kryptonite" because i couldn't fit it in with the vision i had! i'm sorry! i hope you still like it! thank you for requesting 💕 def sunshine x grumpy trope!

~ 🎶 ~

It was the fourth time this week that you'd dragged Sergei out of his usual, brooding solitude, and into your light. He honestly didn't why he kept saying agreeing.

Well, maybe he did.

It was always your smile—a smile bright enough to make even his grumpiest moods feel stupid.

Tonight, it's a karaoke bar. The neon lights cast glows over your features as you sing, completely unbothered by the off-key notes and the raucous cheers. Sergei sits at the booth, his arms crossed as he glares at a guy at the bar who had been eyeing you as you sing.

Once you're finally finished, you bounce over to him, your smile even wider. "I think I nailed it," you say happily.

"You were—loud," Sergei grumbles, but he can't control the hint of a smile curling his lips.

You plop into the seat next to him, closer than necessary. "Admit it—you loved it."

Before he could respond, the guy from the bar slides over and leans his arm on the booth. "Hey, sweetcheeks, that was some singing you did. Can I buy you a drink?" The guy leers at you, his tone suggestive.

Sergei's jaw clenches and his eyes darken. "She's fine," he says immediately, his voice sharp and the stranger narrows his eyes at him.

"I think I can answer for myself," you tease, but your wave the guy off anyways. "Thanks, but I'm with someone right now."

The man looks like he wants to protest, but Sergei's glare seems to dissuade him. Once he leaves, you lean your chin on your hand, studying Sergei with a small smile as your hair falls over your shoulder.

"Don't," he huffs.

"You're jealous," you say calmly, the smugness in your tone makes his cheeks heat up.

"Yer're funny," he scoffs, his accent jumping out.

"You are!"

Sergei laughs, but it sounds more nervous than usual. "I have no clue what you're going on about,"

You smile, shrugging. "You have this tough, grumpy exterior, but I know you'd throw yourself in front of a bullet for me in a heartbeat. You look at me like you'd give me the whole world, why do you try so hard to hide it from me?"

His throat tightens, and embarrassment floods his cheeks. He hates how right you are and how well you can read him. "Yer're imagining things. And ye're dramatic."

"Am I?" You tilt your head. "Are you gonna sit here and pretend you don't want to kiss me?"

He just stares blankly, barely processing your words.

"So are you just gonna keep staring, or are you going to kiss me? This is the invitation you've been wanting," you say with a sweet smile.

Sergei's heart thumps against his chest. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," you laugh and lean in just close enough that he can smell my perfume. "You practically growl at anyone who looks my way, we might as well make it official."

For a second, Sergei just stares at you, his mind racing. You can't read his expression and you frown. Then, with a resigned sigh, he mutters, "You're impossible," and he cups your face in his large, warm hands and kisses you.

Your laughter melts into the kiss and at the sound, he smiles against your lips.

A real smile.

[strawberrysainz]

paradise. carlos sainz jr (18+)

“ maybe it was a mistake asking your newly-single, extremely attractive childhood best friend to accompany you to an event. well, it happened anyway. ”

carlos sainz jr x fem!reader

a warning— nsfw!!!! please don’t interact with this work if you are under 18 🫶. alcohol consumption, profanity.

word count: 1.5k

wrote this one a bit differently — let me know if it works for ya or not xx

She called his name into the dim light of the passage of the house; she stared out at the first hint of the evening, the light catching her eyeshadow.

He peeked out from the door down the hallway, still fiddling with shirt buttons, hair damp. She smiles.

“Could you do up my dress?” She asks, and he nods, clearing his throat as he follows her back into the unfamiliar room to gaze into the full length mirror.

He finds himself thinking about her.

Her bare back is on display, and he blushed furiously as he studies the complicated hooks, slightly perplexed. He murmurs something about having much bigger hands than hers.

Her back flexes as she laughs, explaining something about a hook at the top which eases the process. His mind drifts far away as he studies the intimate picture of her back against the red silk, and she looks impossibly beautiful, her hair and her makeup. He has a small revelation he’s never had before, one she’s considered since she was fifteen, a childish longing that rushes throughout her body.

He manages to fumble his way up her back, brushing purposefully against it every few moments so he watches her skin become prickled at his touch. He enjoys it, slightly shocked at the feel of his pants tightening.

Eventually it’s finished, and she slides her arm around his waist momentarily as a thank you - the Arctic Monkeys are echoing out of her phone, he realised, Alex Turner’s voice achingly suggestive with the dark track.

He watches her bend down gently to put on her high heels before his mind drifts to a place that he is quickly scared out of by the thought of her father killing him if he found out. He mutters something about fifteen minutes before he rushes out the door, the music all he can hear.

❤️‍🔥🎶💃🪩🥀

She slides her arm around his waist as they exit the venue, the dark of the night making him taller and her more confident (but that might have had to do with three or four mixed drinks).

His hand grips her shoulder - she’s wearing his suit jacket, and her red lips move animatedly as they get to the car. His head is spinning with the shock of a newfound desire, and the way in which he knows her so well, so personally, makes it so much worse.

She laughs his name and hits his arm as he makes a joke about some people at the dance. She is staring at his hands on the steering wheel, lips parted slightly with the heaviness of want, eyes fluttering shut. He is achingly pretty in the dark.

She talks a bit more, the energy in the car thick, but not awkward. He murmurs something about how beautiful she looked today, and she smiles to herself with pink cheeks as she looks down at the pictures they took together. There’s one - he’s staring at her while she is laughing at the camera - that makes her feel strangely warm.

She picks some other generic ones - both smiling into the camera, smiling at each other - and sends it to both of their mothers. She adds one to her Instagram story, of her on her tiptoes kissing his cheek as he smiles at the camera warmly. People immediately start to reply to it, and a notification comes in as his mom writes something about how lovely they look with lots of emojis.

He talks then, about drama of people they both know, and she talks about the plans they have made for the rest of the week at his apartment, and they collaborate on a groceries list; she listens to the pauses in his voice, the smooth Spanish and the accented English, the roughness of his tone. He is a work of art, a soft, sweet man she has adored since she was a toddler, tripping over the grass, gasping for breath, him breezing by.

Eventually they’re back at this familiar home, and she has a fleeting thought of a dinner with him, coming back to their home, their kids, dogs, lovers, kissing…

She shakes her head, trying to snap out of it. This isn’t possible. He’s vulnerable, he has been broken up with.

He locks the front door and says her name quietly, and she turns around from the second step of the stairs, and she turns around, sliding the blazer off. The silk makes her look amazing, he reckons, a bit foggy with desire, and her heels click as she shifts to the other foot.

She tilts her head to the side; he has a fleeting desire to kiss her neck, holding back a groan at how gorgeous she looks. Carlos? She says quietly, and the straining in his dress pants, the innocent look on her face, it’s all too much.

He kisses her.

The sheer shock of his lips - this boy she’s known since she was still in nappies - against hers makes her gasp, which turns into some kind of relieving moan, which makes him grab her waist desperately.

She runs her hands through his hair, tugging a little; he moans into her hot mouth. She wraps her arms around his neck as he taps her hips - she jumps and squeals as he goes up the stairs, wrapping her arms around his hips. She feels him half hard beneath her - she smirks with satisfaction- and as they barely make it to the kitchen he puts her on the counter, kissing her softly.

He begins to unbutton his shirt as she shoves her bag and his blazer across the counter, and she is met by his lips again; she runs hands over his firm chest with a dirty smile. Her breath hitches as he runs a hand slowly, up and up her thigh, and she boldly gets off the counter to take off her dress, the silk sliding easily. She’s left in just her underwear, and no bra, and he is staring at her, eyes dark, lips parted.

She moves over to the couch after he does, moving to be on top of him, and she dry rides him for a second - his breath catches in his throat - before she leans in to kiss his neck. He is reaching for her, his lips going to meet a nipple in his mouth.

She’s whining sweetly, the noise going straight to his dick, and then she moans nearly pornographically when he sucks, and she’s wriggling beneath him, muttering a curse in Spanish- it’s a sound he could have never dreamed of hearing.

He continues for a short while until she’s moving to pull his cock out of his pants - a short pump makes him squirm under her touch. She lets him hold her hair back as she bends down to have him in her mouth. He grips her head, moaning at the sight of her red lips around him.

She’s nearly got him at the edge- it’s fucking embarrassing, noting that she’s only been at it for a minute or so - so he gently pushes her off him, going to slide off her panties, brushing her thighs, kissing them, breathing something about how sexy she is, and she’s writhing with pleasure as he pushes her back and his tongue makes her hands fumble, tugging his hair, her sweet moans make him more frantic, and her taste on his tongue, she’s whispering rapidly, that lipstick all over his chest, neck, dick, face…

Soon enough she’s moaning loudly, all wriggly in a way that makes him faint with desire, cumming on his tongue, and he continues to eat her out religiously, tasting her greedily, until she’s pushing him away with a gasp.

He scrambles for a condom in his wallet thrown on the coffee table.

After a moment, he moves to position himself to enter her- he looks down at her- to confirm - and she nods desperately, still flushed from her orgasm, hair splayed out, lipstick messy, eyes blown wide, staring at him. He leans in to kiss her, filled by an unusual warmth at their intimacy. She sinks down on his cock, her being overstimulated and him so, so desperate to feel her, results in them both moaning; she sticks her head in the crook of his neck as she rides him, kissing his neck, and he involuntarily thrusts up; she begins to moan as he hits a spot inside her she hasn’t felt before.

He kisses the top of her head - and they’re both too naïve to know that anything casual does not at all go like this - he’s thrusting and she’s moaning, whimpering, screaming his name as the long, thick strokes have them both seeing stars, her hands on his chest as they find each other.

He whispers promises of not much longer and she kisses him instead as he comes- the motion and the gasping, and the rough, quick, hard stuttering of his body makes her come too, and they both have their heads in the crook of each other’s necks as they breathe heavily; he finds her pretty lips with his stained red.

They don’t move at all, instead making out on the couch - she can never look at that couch the same again - and he bites her lower lip as she stares at him, wondering if their lives could ever be the same again.

For better or worse, they would not.

a LOT of yall have been asking for smut so i’ve given it a go haha. lmk your thoughts please, hope you enjoyed.

masterlist

don’t you dare be a silent reader. like. reblog. comment. follow 🍓❤️‍🔥

[k4marina]

— mornings || s.r

thots thots thots bby.

more horny shit for you horny fucks

synopsis: just a little smooching (and some more) with simon

warnings: 🎶it’s getting hit in here, so take off-🎶 kidding, slight sexual themes, language, simping on both ends, this is rusheddddd

simon”ghost”riley x fem!reader

IMPORTANT THINGY AT THE END!!

“sweetheart,” that thick manchester accent oozed out like honey. it was rare for simon to fully speak with his accent, but whenever he did it was in the mornings like now.

he let out a deep groan, shifting his hips, moving you around a bit. you sat perched on his lower abdomen, lips darting from his neck to his jaw and to his chest. simons hands were firm on your hips, less to keep you but himself steady.

“i need to.. fuck..” he sucked in a breath when your lips made contact with a slightly sensitive spot on his neck, by his ear. “i.. i need to get to work. i can’t be late.”

you hummed, eyes closed and savoring the feel and taste of him. “almost there. what’s the rush?”

he scoffed, his hands subconsciously making small circles on your hips. “i cant be late- we can’t be late.”

you groaned. “fine fine.” you led a trail of kisses and small bites up his neck to his lips, capturing him into a deep kiss. your hand came up to caress the side of his head while one of his hands went to the back of your head, pulling you down more.

the kiss was slow and meaningful. biting and pulling at each others lips, tongues swirling together with your teeth occasionally rubbing against each other.

when you finally pulled back, panting and dazed, a small string of saliva connected your lips to his.

god, how you wished you could always spend your mornings like this. feeling nothing but each other with no care in the world, kissing as if it were your last kiss. leaving simon, the ghost panting, dazed, and slightly flushed from nothing but a few kisses.

-

“love.” simon called out from the bathroom. you sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on your military cargo pants. you leaned back, “yeah?”

simon walked out, cargo pants on but no shirt letting his toned and chiseled torso on full display (not that you were against it). he pointed towards his neck and chest, specifically at the dark hickeys that littered his chest and neck.

you purses you lips, “what?”

“you really think i can go into work like this?”

you scoffed, “if i could go after what you did to me last week, then yes you can go like that.”

you got up, walking over to him, arms around his neck. “besides, you’re always covered up. it’s not like anyone will see anyways.”

“you little..”

-

it’s safe to say that both you and simon arrived late to base that morning. both of you sporting a new look around your necks.

wow another rushed fic? if there’s any mistakes lmk i wrote this at the dead of night so my brain isn’t doing very brainy things.

ALSO, IMPORTANT THINGY !!!!!!

idk how many of you will actually read this, BUT if you do, i’m just letting you all know that my request are open so if y’all want time to write smt for simon or idk who else then drop and thing. i’ll do my best but no promises.

[respectthepetty]

Your Sky is another university BL, which means I, once again, will be fighting my sworn enemy — school uniforms.

But, luckily, I already know what I'm up against and spotted the colors from the trailers.

Muenfah, aka Fah, is a Blue Boy.

He and his friends have been incorrectly rumored to be mysterious and powerful Black Brooders by their peers.

But he is just exhibiting the negative traits of his blue color by being distant and impersonal.

So it's great that he ran into Teerak (or did Teerak run into him?) with his yellow cloth.

Because Teerak is a cheerful and chatty Yellow Yal who will provide balance to Fah's default distant demeanor and yank him out of his comfort zone.

Teerak comes from a colorful and happy family.

But it seems like Fah comes from a family of cold and emotionally closed-off people since I think even his brother seems like a Blue Boy, or Pun might be an actual secretive Black Brooder.

And normally I would rely on the phones being color-coded, but this show is giving me something different with color-coded iPads!

Joy in her pink jacket with her pink iPad and pink accented phone is a Pink Person.

And even though Type doesn't have a color-coded iPad, he does have green-colored headphones, so I think this forgetful and chill friend is a Green Guy.

He also had green text on his shirt at the party while Teerak had red already blossoming from his chest after running into Fah, so I don't need phones or iPads to feel sure about these colors.

And although we might not see sis again, she came, she served, and she was a Pink Person. Everyone pray we get to see her again.

But this is all to emphasize that everything about Teerak's life is very colorful. He is the bright sun coming out to make a rainbow.

Even Oh, being 🎶The Worst🎶, knows that Teerak is the yellow sun at the center of this universe since he got Teerak sunflowers.

But Blue Boy Fah easily gave Teerak his heart without a second thought, much like he is about to give Teerak everything he wants without hesitation.

It's like the red thread of destiny was always connecting these two color-coded boys who are about to be in love.

But first they have to get past one small barrier between them.

Which doesn't take long since, like I wrote, Teerak will force Fah to step out of his nice box of isolation without even trying.

Because Yellow Yals are impatient and don't like to be kept waiting, so Fah will have to move quickly to keep up with Teerak in everyday life and in love.

But, like I mentioned, fate seems to be saying their were destined.

And gave Fah the pink equals love light.

Which he knew exactly what to do with.

So really, fate gave Fah a head start.

And true to his Blue Boy-ness, he was smart enough to take it.

Good for him since he is going to need all the help he can get to handle his Yellow Yal and his colorful crew.

Where's his friends when he needs them?

Probably making out with each other if fate is on my side.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 1 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: While aboard the whaling ship Essex, Matthew Joy is startled awake. Leaving the safety of his hammock, he encounters a woman lost at sea. What will his decision to save her cost him in the end?

warnings: Brief nudity and mentions of potential sexual assault/violence. This part is mainly Matthew being a good guy. We have a slow burn for this series, guys.

word count: 1646k

It's Been a Long, Long Time - Kitty Kallen, Harry James 🎶

Sea, Swallow Me- Cocteau Twins, Harold Budd 🎵

Based on Cillian's character from In the Heart of the Sea (2015).

Sorry I've been so inconsistent and thank you for still readying and engaging. I really appreciate it 🖤

It is dark, the world is dark, and the sea is at war with itself. Matthew’s hammock swings hard right suddenly, lurching him awake. He tries to focus his eyes in the darkness of the hold, the familiarity of it still comforting after weeks onboard. He’d practically grown up on a whaling boat like the Essex. Living and sleeping on a boat had become second nature, which is why Matthew wondered what could have woken him up so suddenly. The boat always rocked, his hammock often swung from side to side, but this time he woke up. 

Looking around as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Matthew watched his men sleep around him, their snores similar to those of a whale call. Matthew listened out for calls of distress or whatever else could have woken him up. Besides the scrambling of a rat or two, the Essex was quiet and still. Still feeling uneasy, Matthew climbed down from his hammock and pulled on his boots and heavy jacket. He could see his breath in front of him as he climbed the slanted steps to the top-deck. The cold Atlantic water surrounded him on all sides, only the walls of the ship separated him from them, and yet he felt secure. 

Matthew’s blue eyes glowed beneath the full-moon like colored diamonds, sparkling in the slants of moonlight. His shaggy brown hair shifted around his head in the strong gusts of wind. Matthew surveyed the deck, pulling his jacket closer and turning back. Everything looked as it should, waves lashed against the boat and the spray of salt water refreshed his face, everything was normal. As Matthew turned to return to his hammock, he heard a faint but distinct whispering behind him. Spinning around, Matthew expected to see someone standing there. When he turned, however, he was alone on the deck. 

“Hello?” He called out into the dark. 

“Hello.” A woman’s voice spoke quietly.

Matthew spun around, looking for the source of the woman’s voice. 

“Is someone out there?” Matthew asked, his eyes darting around in the darkness of the deck.   

“Yes,” the woman’s voice spoke again after a moment of eerie silence. Matthew froze, his eyes trained on the edge of the railing. He took a step closer, his brow furrowed in apprehension and bewilderment. 

“Who are you?” His voice pierced the noise of the waves and echoed over the rail. He put out his hands to feel for the rough edge and caught it as the boat rocked beneath him. There was no response. 

“Where are you?” He asked instead. His dark brown hair whipped around his face and his thin cotton blouse danced beneath his jacket. 

“Down here,” the woman’s voice finally reached him, “over the edge.” 

“What the fuck?” Matthew groveled and forced himself to look. Alone in the sea below, a woman was treading water breathlessly. Beautiful dark hair stuck to her face and ballooned around her shoulders in the water. Her skin was deathly pale and she looked sickly and weak. Matthew heard himself gasp softly and grabbed a band of rope without another thought. 

“Christ, hold on! I’m throwing down some rope!” He yelled down to her and lowered a length of it, tying the rest to a hook on the deck’s railing. “Tie it around yourself!” His cockney accent tinted the words he said but the girl nodded and managed to loop the cord around her waist. Matthew swiftly pulled the girl up to the railing where he could hook his arms around her. As he pulled her over the railing, they stumbled backwards onto the deck, both landing on their backs with sharp gasps.

Matthew sat up quickly and untied the rope from the girl’s waist. She was shivering beneath him and cold to the touch. 

“How the hell did you end up in the water?” Matthew asked her as he tossed the rope to the side and removed his heavy jacket. She started to sit up and allowed the man to wrap his jacket around her and prop her back up against the side of the railing. His heavy hands passed over her chest, wrapping the dry fabric around her. Her skin glowed white in the inky darkness around them. 

“I fell overboard and it was dark, no one could see me,” she whispered as she tried to catch her breath. 

“Which ship?” Matthew asked and looked out at the dark horizon as if he could spot a passing ship. The girl stared wordlessly up at him,

“You’re in shock,” Matthew consoled her and nodded. He was fully awake now and disturbed by the way his night had gone so far. Something felt wrong about this whole situation. 

“Thank you for helping me,” she met his eyes for the first time that evening and held his attention. Her voice was calm, strangely so, Matthew noticed. He nodded slowly. 

“Don’t thank me yet, miss. Do you know what kind of ship you’re on?” He lowered his voice and glanced around. 

“No,” she furrowed her brow and sniffed. 

“You’re on a whaling ship. The men aboard haven’t even seen a woman in about a year… this is a dangerous place for you to be, miss.” Matthew ran his hand over his mouth and tried to think quickly. “If someone were to see you… it may not be possible to keep you safe until we can find the boat you were on before you fell. We can speak to the Captain,” Matthew started to stand. 

“Wait, please.” The girl grabbed his forearm weakly. He lowered himself back to her level. 

“What is it?” Matthew asked her softly, feeling as though he were melting beneath her eyes. The girl reached out her other hand and gripped the neck of his blouse, her fingers intertwining with the tie on his lapel. 

“What is your name?” She asked softly and licked her chapped lips. Matthew raised his eyebrow and paused briefly to study her. Her chest rose and fell softly beneath his jacket, her breasts could be seen through the wet fabric of her dress. He tried to ignore the way her dress was hitched up at her knees, sticking to her legs and dripping water onto the deck between them. 

“Matthew Joy,” he answered her slowly and placed his hands on the sides of her shoulders. “Are you alright, love?” He furrowed his brow as she nodded. Her skin was freezing, so he rubbed his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up. 

“How long were you in the water?” He asked. 

“All my life,” she gave him a small smile, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. 

“What?” Matthew narrowed his eyes and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re still in shock, I better go get the captain. Stay right here, love. I’ll be back.” 

As Matthew started to stand the girl grabbed him again, this time by the hem of his shirt. The fabric was clutched in her pale fist. She looked up at him through her long eyelashes. He was standing above her as spoke. 

“Wait…” 

Matthew listened as she swallowed and started again. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what my name is?” Her lips looked purple in the light of the moon and her wet hair was stuck around her in waves of glossy blackness. She looked like a goddess, a wave, a dream. 

“What’s your name?” He asked her slowly and she smiled, showing a line of straight white teeth. 

“Y/N.” 

Matthew nodded distractedly and cleared his throat. 

“Y/N, stay here while I get help, right?” He stepped away from her and she dropped the hem of his shirt. She watched Matthew as he turned and hurried to wake Owen and the Captain. He may be the best whaler on the ship but he deferred to Owen on anything administrative. The Captain was a uniform he had to respect. 

“Matthew Joy!” The girl called out before he made it to the stairs below deck. He turned, his hair blowing into his blue eyes. The girl was curled up in the further shadow of the railing. He waited for her to speak. 

“Do you believe in Sirens?” She asked strangely and he felt himself take a deep breath, confused. He noticed the sky in the distance begin to lighten as the sun was close to rising. The light made everything look greenish, almost aquamarine. 

“What…” he trailed off. His hair flew into his face again, blocking his sight. When the wind passed, he drew in a breath to respond. The girl was gone. Matthew scrambled back to the place where the girl had just been. He looked over the side and in the ocean below but there was no sign of her. A chill spread through his body as he straightened up. 

A bell sounded from the crow’s nest down the ship. The call for whale’s went up and noise erupted from below deck. 

“Pods! Pods of whales!” A sailor screamed. Matthew stood dumbly, staring over the edge of the boat, not looking for the whales but watching for the girl. 

“Y/N…” he whispered distractedly. 

He couldn’t have been dreaming. His jacket was gone and a puddle of cold water stood in her place. A hard clap on the back startled him and he released a nervous chuckle when he saw that it was just Owen. 

“Did you see ‘em?” Owen asked with a wide grin. 

“No, no,” Matthew shook his head and rested his elbows on the surface of the railing. As the sun rose, the blue in his eyes magnified against the ruddy orange in the sky. His thumbs pushed against his full lips and he exhaled slowly, trying to capture an image of her in his mind. What kind of creature was she?

...

End of Pt. 1

[pjjays]

i just ran into a pole trying to find my long lost luvr…

[watchoutpaul-hemightkickyourhead]

midway through watching saf (spies are forever). Here are my notes:

Fucking badass curt

Oh they're (curt and owen) gay aren't they. Gonna be so mad if they aren't fruits

Joey's British accent, shockingly, not the worse one I've heard. Sounds very suffolk-essex border (similar to my accent). Not perfect but not bad. Like 7/10

It's time to save the woooorld again

ITS TIME TO GET THE GIRLL AGAINNNNN

ONCE A SPY ALWAYS A SPY FOREVERRRRRRR

"old boy". Thats it. Thats the note

Oh my fucking god curt that's why we don't litter

CURT WTF DONT LEAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND BEHIND

selfish git

Oh. Oh no. No curt.

Oh curt baby.

Oh he an alchaholic baby

HIM AND HIS (romantic) PARTNERRRR OWEEEEEEEEN

Oh cynthia i havent even met you and you're already a badass bitch

Slightly worse british accents but its chill

wowza he's (DMA) scary

Oh the bombseller is a vibe. Great song

Oh she pretty. Pretty Russian woman. SWEAR TO GOD IF SHES THE "BOND GIRL"-

Sorry hes late guys got a lot on his plate guys🎶

Sit down! Fuck you! You're fucking dead!

The smiley face was very important

So how, in the FLIPPETY FLAPPETY FUCK

Oh well aren't you the 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒹ℴ𝒹ℊℯ𝓇

oh wowza he's (DMA) CREEPY

YESSSS the fucking 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙍𝙍𝘿𝘿𝘿

YOU YOU GOTTA!

love that type of mother son dynamic

Tessa netting my BELOVED

Pay attention has gotta be my favourite song so far it scratches my brain just right

"Acctually holding LIQUOOOR" "im off it" YES POP OFF CURT BEAT THAT ALCHAHOLISM

barb hes gay give up

barb

barb hes a fruitcake stop

barb you dont need him ill kiss you instead

Candlestick? Apple? Fucking paperclip? Looks like a GUN TO ME

WHO DO YOU THINK WILL BE SHAVING YOU-HOOO

yeahhhh get that beard off

The beard looked uncomfortable to wear

OH CUUUURRT YOUR SO DREAAAAAMMMMYYY

Barb larvenour I LOVE YOU

Watching the rest soon!

[cloveroctobers]

santa, doesn’t know you like i do — 2. OBX [Winter Prompts: Multi]

A/N: Only episodes 1-6 exist to me! It’s the season of joy and that’s exactly what I’m attempting to bring with this! Happy reading!

WARNINGS: Language + gender neutral friendly! & Cleo’s is unfortunately the shortest.

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE! + I’m using: 014. sitting down to exchange and open gifts, anticipating what gift you may get. is it something cool or just another pair of socks? + 010. in the kitchen making the deserts for the big day, and perhaps even making a mess too! + 017. in the trenches of snow forts, amidst a war of a snow fight! who will win? & 019. traversing the treacherous conditions of icy pavements. will you laugh as they fall or lend them a hand and go down in solidarity?

<- read my previous winter anthology prompt here if you’re about it.

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆

~ JJ MAYBANK ~

• I can make you fall too. So, tell me what's on your wishlist? I wanna make it come true 🎶

“…and this one is for…JJ.” Sarah reads off the personalized tag, picking up the last gift from the makeshift tree he managed to find at a sketchy tree farm.

Pope called it the ozempic tree and majority of the time, JJ spent his Christmas’ with Big John and John B (occasionally the Heyward’s too once they were up for JJ’s sparkling behavior) since it used to be his favorite holiday when they were kids. Now he was hosting Christmas’ on goat island, not to show off what he did with the place but simply because he could now.

“What?” JJ called over the music, standing by some huge stereo that he probably paid too much for.

He should have focused more on furniture like you tried to tell him but he didn’t care about that. All of the furniture in here was in good condition in his eyes—no matter the dust and the pieces he’s surfed on and broke—he would fix them in due time because he didnt need to get rid of what belonged to his blood family. He wanted to keep what was left, which stopped you from bringing up furniture talk.

This was JJ’s home and he deserved a good one for once.

Kie scoffed as she held onto her ukulele, “It’s for you idiot, open it!”

“And for the love of the most high, can we please play something else?!” Pope jumped up from the chair, almost knocking Cleo off the arm of it, making him quickly apologize, his hands going to her hips as he pressed rapid kisses to her cheek, before trading places with the boisterous blond.

JJ was tipsy, shades toppling out of his feathered hair, as he plucked the gift from Sarah’s hand then he plopped down by your legs on the floor to rest against the front of the couch. You were all proud of him, limiting his drinks to only special occasions, something JJ came up with all on his own.

It was the little things that still mattered.

He was a constant work in progress, take him as you will.

After the crap that was of last year, he wanted nothing more than to put that nightmare behind him. Time was still on his side and now JJ finally got to live it, day by day but with more warmth this time.

“I didn’t think I was on the secret santa list, since you know I’m the hostest with the mostest.” JJ winks at all the friends who groan at him.

You were all just glad he wasn’t wearing that crown on his head anymore from earlier, when he greeted you all at the front door in a terrible mix of a British or Australian accent.

Cleo shakes her head, “The holidays done made you soft, rude boy.”

“Sue me, Clee!”

“For money? I can just steal it ya know?” Cleo wiggles her fingers at her friend with a dimpled grin sent his way.

JJ quirks up a brow, “That’s not a battle I want to get into tonight. It’s all about,” he clears his throat, “Be of good cheer! It’s the most wonderful time of the year! It’s the hap-happiest time of the year!” He belts out.

“Make him stop, John B.” Sarah whines, covering her ears while John B sends a lazy smile at the friend that he was happy to call his brother.

All John B can come up with is, “Open up your gift already man, aren’t you curious?”

JJ flings one hand in the air with his cup of wine, yes red wine, this stuff was pretty good on a winter night, shout out to PawPaw Wes, but he stops short once he almost splashes some of it onto the carpet. When he looks over at you, who has their attention on their phone he nudged your knee with his elbow, “Be a peach and hold this for me, will ya?”

“Please?”

“Please, dollface?” JJ pushes his bottom lip out, leaving you to roll your eyes as you take the green plastic cup into one of your hands.

He goes to mumbling as he tears off the festive gift wrapping, “…It’s probably just some socks.”

“What’s wrong with socks?” Kie questions, “the fuzziest of socks are the best kind to keep your feet warm, skin soft-

“Blah, blah, blah.”

Kiara sucks her teeth, “okay, fuck you then.”

Which earns laughs from everyone as JJ reveals a box. He goes to shake it, noticing some tape keeping it together.

“Don’t shake it.” You say, making JJ’s blues turn to you, “It could be something fragile.”

The friends all shared a glance at this. The secret santa was Sarah’s idea and although they were under the influence, everyone seemed to be keeping track of who got who. John B got Kiara, Kiara got Sarah, Sarah got Pope, Pope got John B, JJ got Cleo, Cleo got you, and you guested it, you got JJ.

Everyone except JJ was keeping up.

“Alright, fine. You’re probably right,” JJ nods before turning back to the box while you visibly relaxed.

He’s using his teeth now to pull off some of the tape before yanking open the box. “Oh whoever did this, did a superb job. There’s even tissue paper! And it’s scented! Wait a minute…this smells a whole lot like…”

His eyes are in slits now and he wants to turn to you to confirm his suspicions but he’s also curious about what this gift is. Tossing the tissue paper any and everywhere, JJ pulls out this vintage toy bronco.

You exhaled, not sure what your friend’s reaction was as he sat beside you on the floor, “I know it’s not much but…you used to talk about owning one of these and how you used to have one kind of like this when you and JB were kids—

“Before my dad—Luke beat it up with a bat and chucked it into the garbage disposal. The damn thing spit back out and split his brow. Me letting a laugh slip out wasn’t my best move but he deserved that.” JJ told, making the room fill up with numerous amount of emotions at what a younger JJ would soon start to face on a regular.

You nod sitting on the edge of the couch now, “I got it personalized for you and everything: your favorite number on the hood, name on the side, and check out the license plate.”

JJ shifted the gray bronco to its back, letting a grin split over his lips, “PND-4L. That stand for what I think it does?”

“Uh huh.”

JJ drops his head, pinches at his brow and sniffs before lifting his head and letting out a deep sigh from his lips. He turns to you, eyes glistening in the dim of the Genrette home, “This is the best got damn gift I’ve ever received, bring it in you thoughtful thing you!”

Kiara quickly reaches out for the plastic cup, just as JJ doesn’t give you time to move afterwards, locking his arms around your waist and burying his head in your lap.

That was enough to make anyone’s heart swell, your hand going to his head as you lean to place a kiss right on top. “Glad you like it, J. Merry Christmas.”

“Like it? I love it! It’s going right on my bedside table.”

“And maybe it’ll be more motivation to actually get your own fucking car instead of stealing the Twinkie?” John B comments, rubbing at his eye.

JJ scoffs, “The Twinkie is a family car. This right here is part of the dream.” He holds the bronco up into the air before bringing it to his lips to kiss, “But I’m sure I’ve already got it.”

He mumbles that last bit as Pope puts on some r&b Christmas music instead, pulling Cleo up to dance while Kiara finishes off JJ’s wine before getting up to join the couple while strumming her ukulele and humming beautifully to the music, Sarah and John B share a tender kiss as they continue to lounge against each other, and you begin to comb your fingers through your friend’s hair.

“You’re probably the best gift giver here but sssh, don’t tell the others I said that.” JJ says, getting up to fully rest his head in your lap now.

He rests the car on his chest as you both go into your own hushed conversation, focus solely on each other as you continue to fall for each other, being the true definition of a slow burn.

| CLEO ANDERSON |

• He won't bring you somebody that loves you more than me, yeah 🎶

You’re yanked into the new and improved yet slightly messy wooden home as soon as Cleo set her brown eyes on you. You were careful as you tried to avoid a patch of flour and egg on the floor that was made into a smiley face before you then turned to an antsy Cleo. You could smell the sugar as soon as you stood on the steps of the old Maybank residence. Everything honestly felt unreal, something that you were all able to put together and work on as a family was back in your hands and a reality? It still didn’t feel real at times, being back at the home that was almost gone thanks to Luke’s snake ways and this place used to hold only darkness but the constant goal was to fill it only with light from now on.

Until your friends try to warn you otherwise before you entered the home.

“She’s worse than my military influenced uncle when it comes to the kitchen.” Pope mumbled to you, massaging the palm of his hand.

You frown as you held onto the ingredients in a reusable bag (that Kiara once gave you) that you were asked to bring on your back, “C’mon guys it can’t be that bad? We’ve been in the kitchen together before…had plenty of dinners together and Cleo’s always been fine.”

JJ scoffs as he plops down on the steps of his childhood home, “That’s just regular dinners y/n. The holidays makes people whackadoo!” He whistles a cuckoo tune before quickly glancing over his shoulder to make sure Cleo couldn’t hear him, “And Cleo is our own personal version of the bear when it comes to these desserts.”

Kiara snickers as she attempts to give JJ’s shoulder a comforting squeeze, “We were only allowed to focus on the dinner portion. The desserts are a whole new ball park and Cleo doesn’t want any of our help.”

“Only y/n’s.” John B grumbled, also appearing defeated.

You frown, sending a questioning glance to the brunette who’s leaning over the banister, glaring out at the view.

Sarah sighs, “John B got a nice scolding from Cleo…now there’s a delay with whatever last dessert she’s trying to make? Which is why—

“You guys needed me to bring the extras.” You confirm with a nod of your head before letting out a sigh, “Well I better not keep the lady waitin.”

John B scoffed, “She’ll hold off her venom a little when it comes to you.”

“I told you not to put the raisins in there, man.” JJ muttered with his elbows digging into his knees.

“Oh you think you have all the answers don’t you, Bobby Flay?” John B mouthed off, “When have you ever baked anything decent?”

JJ snorts as he squints looking away from the shifting sun,“I know raisins don’t belong in potato bread.”

“…well with some recipes in the Caribbean, does include raisins.” Pope spoke up with a light shrug of his shoulders.

John B holds his hands out to the brainiac in a see motion, “Thank you!”

JJ scowls, “Hey Pope, hey! Whose side are you on?”

As the boys bickered, Kiara and Sarah both rolled their eyes and snuck off around the wrap around porch just to get away from them, while you took the chance pushing the doors open to enter the revamped home. You can’t even blink before Cleo’s yanking at your wrist, pulling you into the (second) very open kitchen.

“Where’ve been? I want everything to be done by sundown and I’ve got to start this madness over because of freakin’ John b.” Cleo’s moving around the kitchen at lighting speed.

You nod, “I was just told…I also heard that you have other desserts too?”

“Yeah!” Cleo answers, “Guava Duff and pineapple upside down cake. It’s best to have tree options…especially with the way these fools eat.”

“So you want to remake the potato bread?”

Cleo placed her hands on her hips and deeply exhaled, “Yeah man, John B screwed it up mixing those turds into the batter! Not a fan! Coconut was just fine and you’re gonna love it.”

“I’ve actually developed an allergy out in Venezuela.” You admitted, “I’ll take your word for it though.”

Cleo frowns, “Huh? But the coconut lentil stew in Morocco? I thought—

“No don’t get me wrong, it was delicious and I didn’t want be too picky when we were all scrapping just to find a solid meal. I begged Sarah not to say anything when my eye swelled up later that night. Let’s just say…Kie and I had an adventourous time on the hunt for some inflammatories.”

“And you guys had rude boy to distract me,” Cleo fills in the blanks, “It all makes sense now.”

You offer a small smile but Cleo just shakes her head. She was too tired to realize then and think too much about what was going on. Cleo wouldn’t beat herself up too much about it but she wanted to make up for it.

“Could have told me ya know?” She takes the ingredients from the bag and starts putting them in the correct place but not without stopping to dump the contents in the bowls out into the trash again, “That’s cancelled.”

“What? No, the potato bread’s been the talk of the day…you should see it through.”

Cleo claps her hands, shushing you, followed with a wag of her finger, “No can do love…matter of fact, what’s your favorite dessert? I can make something with what we’ve got.”

There wasn’t a “maybe” in front of that statement at all. If Cleo had a plan, she was always going to see it through. Her brown eyes twinkled as they settled back on you, brow raised as she awaited for you to say anything that came to mind.

Once you revealed what your favorite dessert is, it only took the wavy haired girl a few moments to think if she had enough ingredients to whip it together for you.

“Well don’t just stand there, get over here and be my sous chef.” Cleo waved you over, “Make sure you scrub those hands in my kitchen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded and tossed in a joke, “wouldn’t want a repeat of JJ and Kie’s homemade corn dogs from the fourth.”

Both of you share a equal shudder as you stood shoulder to shoulder. Your eyes connected and Cleo sent you the sweetest smile, where both of her dimples easily appeared in her cheeks before she put her game face back on.

This was about to get hectic but you’d tolerate it because with chaos came love and you were certain that’s what this house would only be based on from this point on. Also if Cleo was going through all this trouble just for you?

Had to mean something…right?

| BARRY |

• I've been there through the good and bad, Know how to make you laugh, Kiss all your tears away, babe. Ooh, only I can do that 🎶

Snow in the Outerbanks wasn’t common but when it did, Barry liked to take advantage of it. He had the bright idea to start chucking snowballs at random people, specifically people coming out of their homes. He wanted to have a laugh whereas you wanted to build a snow fort.

He only went through with that because it would be your cover once your target tried to search the area for their culprit. The both of you were up to no good and it showed. The plan started off at the trailer, building forts on both sides of Barry’s land, which included Barry sneaking up and trying to stomp your fort out but not without a fight, before you shoved him back to his side.

“Anybody tell you your aim is trash, sunshine?!” Barry yells over his own fort, he’s been shit talking since the both of you started your first round at his place.

And frankly? You had enough so as soon as Barry lifted his head to look in your direction, you popped up with the swiftness and started windmilling two balls in his direction. The first ball hits Barry in the shoulder and the last? Clunks him right in the eye that had him doubling over.

“Bear?” You stopped celebrating as soon as you saw him holding his eye.

Barry huffed into the air, “Got damn! Did you hide a rock in there or sum?”

Cautiously you made your way over to the dark haired jack of all trades, wanting to be prepared that he wasn’t trying to sneak you as soon as you got close enough.

The way his eye had a nice pink ring around it was enough to tell you, he wasn’t joking.

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right, I didn’t know we was fightin’ dirty, dawg.” Barry tried to peek at you through the injured eye.

Giving a grimace you admit, “That ball did seem kind of hard.”

Barry snorts, “And here I thought you liked my ass but you really tryna to take my shit out, havin’ me walking around this bitch like popeye.”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to grip his face and hide the laughter that bubbled in your chest but Barry dodged your hands, “You know I’d never purposely hurt you.”

Barry scoffed but still said, “I know I know but now I got to take my frustrations out with my original plan.” He rubs his hands together, “Yeah…let’s take a ride out to figure eight.”

Suddenly now that didn’t seem like the best idea.

“Nah, stop them gears.” Barry pointed at you, which made you roll your eyes, “You owe me this.”

“Fine…but no snowballs that have undercover ice in them.”

Barry sent you a look, “Oh now you want to check for that shit for the sake of them uppity kooks instead of for the safety of your man? You know that shit don’t sound right to me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

Barry just hums.

Which leads to you two heading out to Rafe Cameron’s new residence. The both of you snuck around the back, thinking it would be easier to attack from.

“Look at country club, done leveled up.” Barry snickers to himself after he dusted off his hands from building yet another fort for the both of you to hide behind.

You shrug, finding that all these beach homes looked the same, “How do we even know he’s home?”

“He’s home alright, probably up in there stressin’ over stupid shit when he’s got it made.” Barry comments.

You’ve seen their relationship play out, the good and the bad—mostly the bad and still found it interesting that the both of them chose to pop back into their lives whenever they felt like it.

Barry’s got the binoculars spying on the home, while you got tired of standing around for what felt like forever. Choosing to pick at your nails and sit on your knees until they started to lose feeling in them. Just as you’re about to announce that you’re ready to go back home, Barry yanks on your wrist to get you back into a squatting position.

“There he go!” Barry whisper-yells to you, as you peek over the lopsided fort to indeed see Rafe on his back deck, staring out at the view towards his right.

Barry’s got a wicked dimple of a smirk on his face, hands skillfully rolling a ball together before he pops up, “Merry Christmas, Abercrombie!”

He should have been a baseball player with the way he cocked his arm back, putting in extra strength to launch the ball into the air and landed it right in between Rafe’s furrowing brows.

Barry is a laughing mess while you watch Rafe swipe the show from his irritated face. His head snaps towards you two, hand going to his forehead to block out the specs of sun that shines through the gray clouds. Your eyes go wide at being caught, your hand grabbing Barry by the elbow, to set off into a run after you spot Rafe moving around his deck to head down towards you two.

“Ain’t nobody scared of, Rafe. Baby, slow down—

Barry tried to say just as you slipped on a patch of ice. Your feet go right up into the air, fingertips slipping from Barry’s puffer jacket, eyes closing as you wait for impact.

It happened in slow motion for you but quickly for Barry. He can’t help but to laugh at your cartoon ass fall, before he hears Rafe yelling from behind. Barry scrambles forward, hands attempting to grab you up by the pits but ends up slipping over your body, head first into a bank of snow that was pushed up on the sidewalk.

A mocking laughter from Rafe echoes into the sky from behind the both of you while you feel like you’re stuck in place.

“I dunno what you laughing at, country club! Ain’t shit funny!” Barry roars, after lifting his head from the snow, middle finger raised right in the air.

Rafe is snapping pictures now but keeps his distance, “That’s what y’all idiots get! Trying to fuck with me.”

“Ever heard of salt?” Barry sits up with his elbows pressing into his knees.

“Nah, now I’m definitely not paying anyone to do that around here if it keeps you two off my property.” Rafe says before motioning to Barry’s damp appearance, “You got a little something all over.”

“Yeah you talkin’ real tough.”

Barry stops his bickering with Rafe after he picks up on some sniffing. His head snaps to you, “Hey…” he starts moving over to you.

He’s trying to help you up but a scream, makes both twenty something year old’s stare at you in alarm.

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎

Barry ended up kissing your tears away the whole trip to urgent care. It helped some but the muscle relaxers, and some weed really did their thing. The both of you are seated on Barry’s couch, he’s got an ice pack pressed right against the ring around his eye (given by you) that officially bruised up, and he cradled a beer bottle while the both of you sat in silence watching some sitcom on a old tv set that belonged to his nonna.

You’re now sporting a neck brace, thanks to a sprain and suddenly catch each other’s side eye, before erupting in laughter together.

“Told you you’ll never get bored with me, huh, sunshine?” Barry winks at you, gold grills gleaming at you while you hold onto the brace, to subside the slight ache while you laughed.

Barry rests his head back against the length of the couch, letting this position hold the ice pack for him now, before sliding his hand over to squeeze your thigh, with your hand resting right on top of his.

⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆ ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎‧*❆₊⋆

[kathlare]

electric nights

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando escape to Bali for a vibrant night at a Martin Garrix concert.

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

full masterlist // request over here!

January 4th, 2024 - Bali, Indonesia

liked by amelieupdate, ln4nation, and others

f1updatesdaily: Lando was spotted at Martin Garrix’s set in Bali last night, but he wasn’t alone… Amelie was there too! 🌴🎶👀 Another day, another sighting of the "friends" living it up together.

View all 945 comments

f1girl88: NOT LANDO AND AMELIE IN BALI TOGETHER??? 👀👀 Y’all can’t keep calling this a coincidence 😭 → amelie_supremacy: @f1girl88 fr, they’re “friends” but spend more time together than I do with my bestie 💀 → lando_lover34: @amelie_supremacy they're too comfortable, like give us a little mystery at least 😂

speedy_fangirl: Lando’s everywhere with her lately… I’m just saying, something’s up. 🤨 → f1fanatic69: @speedy_fangirl okay but like we’ve BEEN saying this for months now, when’s the soft launch? 🙃

teamlandoxo: Okay but can y’all stop prying into their lives? They can just be friends. Not everything’s about dating. 🙄

tirequeen44: Nah, I don’t buy it. Amelie’s too good for him, let’s be real. 😒 → mclarenfan4life: @tirequeen44 girl chill, why so pressed? They’re clearly vibing, let them live lol.

speedyfan32: OMG they were together AGAIN?? Bali this time?? How much longer are we pretending they’re just friends? 🫣👀 → landoslover4ever: @speedyfan32 bro fr, like… friends don’t fly across the world just to vibe at parties together 😭✈️

gossip_girly: Lando bringing Amelie to a Martin Garrix set in Bali… idk man

f1rumors: Can someone PLEASE ask Martin Garrix to confirm? He’s probably third-wheeling them at this point. 😂

hatersgonnahate: Amelie doesn’t even seem like Lando’s type. 😒 → lanmelove: @hatersgonnahate Yeah, because his type is literally her. 🥴 → ameliefan22: @lanmelove Lando’s been acting like a teenage boy with a crush since 2020. Move on, haters.

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

The pulsating beat of Martin Garrix’s set vibrated through the packed outdoor venue in Bali, the air electric with the energy of the crowd. Lando stood by the DJ booth, his arm loosely draped around Amelie’s waist as they moved to the rhythm. Both were glowing from the buzz of the night, cheeks flushed from the cocktails they’d been sipping since the evening began. Amelie’s laughter rang out as Lando leaned in to say something cheeky, his voice barely audible over the music.

—You’re terrible at this, Ames,— he teased, his British accent slurring slightly from the alcohol.

Amelie playfully nudged his chest, her own drink swaying precariously in her hand.

—Terrible? Excuse me, Lan, but I’ve got better rhythm than you. Look at these moves!— she quipped, swaying her hips dramatically to the beat.

Lando burst out laughing, his hand sliding to steady her as she exaggerated her dancing. She tilted her head back, letting the music and their chemistry take over. They weren’t trying to hide how close they were, not tonight.

In the background, Martin glanced their way, grinning at the sight of the two. The DJ had seen them grow closer over the years, and now, seeing them so naturally wrapped up in each other, he couldn’t help but smile. But then, his eyes darted to a cluster of people near the edge of the dance floor, phones raised. His gaze met Lando’s, signaling a subtle warning.

Lando caught the look, his brows furrowing slightly as he glanced over. He recognized the telltale glint of camera lenses pointed in their direction. He sighed, lowering his head to Amelie’s ear.

—Time to disappear before we become tomorrow’s headline,— he murmured, his tone amused but cautious.

Amelie nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. —Lead the way, superstar.—

He took her hand, guiding her through the throng of partiers. They weaved their way toward the exit, laughter bubbling between them as they stumbled slightly on uneven steps. The cool Bali night greeted them as they emerged, a stark contrast to the humid intensity of the party.

—You’re ridiculous, you know that?— Amelie teased, wrapping her arms around his waist as they walked.

—Me? You’re the one challenging me to a dance battle in front of Garrix.—

They both burst out laughing, their steps faltering as they leaned into each other for balance.

The short ride back to the hotel was filled with drunken giggles and playful teasing. Amelie kept poking Lando’s cheek, calling him "Lan the lightweight," while he countered with exaggerated impressions of her earlier dance moves.

When they reached their suite, Lando fumbled with the key card, the two of them still laughing so hard they could barely stand straight.

—Would you stop distracting me?— he said, shooting her a mock glare.

—I’m not distracting you, you’re just bad at this!—

Finally, the door clicked open, and they stumbled inside. Amelie kicked off her heels and collapsed onto the plush bed, her hair splaying out around her.

—This is heaven,— she groaned dramatically, stretching her arms wide.

Lando sat beside her, undoing the top buttons of his shirt and smirking down at her. —You look ridiculous.—

—And you look... way too good for someone who’s drunk,— she shot back, grinning up at him.

For a moment, the playful energy between them shifted. Their laughter faded, replaced by the warm buzz of their connection. Lando leaned down, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

—You’re trouble, Amelie Dayman,— he whispered, his voice softer now.

—And you like it,— she replied, her voice equally quiet.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling back and lying beside her. They stayed like that for a while, the distant sounds of Bali nightlife fading as the world outside melted away.

Amelie turned her head to look at him, her expression unguarded. —You know, I think this might’ve been the best decision I’ve ever made.—

Lando met her gaze, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. —What, coming to Bali or getting with me?—

—Both.—

He laughed, pulling her close. —Good. Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.—

The warmth between them lingered, but soon their playful energy sparked again. Amelie rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands as she grinned at him.

—Alright, Lan, I’m starving. What’s a girl gotta do to get some greasy, late-night food around here?—

Lando’s eyes widened dramatically. —Ames, you’re in luck. You’re dating the king of midnight junk food orders.—

—Oh, how blessed I am,— she teased, throwing her arm dramatically over her forehead.

Lando grabbed the hotel phone, dialing room service with all the confidence of a seasoned pro. —Yes, hi. Two double cheeseburgers, large fries... and do you have milkshakes? Perfect. One chocolate, one strawberry. Thanks, mate.— He hung up, tossing the phone aside.

—And that, my dear, is how it’s done.—

Amelie laughed, flopping onto her back. —Impressive. You’ve truly mastered the art of post-party survival.—

—Years of practice, love,— he quipped, lying down next to her.

They started scrolling through Lando’s phone, giggling over memes he saved and photos from the party earlier. Every so often, Amelie would nudge him, teasing him about the blurry selfies he attempted while dancing.

—This one’s a keeper,— she said, showing him a picture of him mid-dance with a goofy grin.

—Delete that right now!— he protested, lunging for the phone.

—Never!— she yelped, holding it out of his reach.

Their playful struggle ended with Lando pinning her arms to the mattress, his face inches from hers. They were both breathless, eyes locked as their laughter subsided.

—You’re insufferable,— he said softly, his smile betraying his words.

—And yet, here you are.— Her voice was equally soft, her teasing tone laced with affection.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips. It was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that spoke to their history, the ups and downs, the moments that had led them here. When they pulled apart, Amelie smiled.

—You know, I think this might be the happiest I’ve been in a long time.—

Lando’s thumb brushed her cheek. —Same. It’s weird, isn’t it? Like... how easy it feels now.—

She nodded, a softness in her eyes. —It wasn’t easy before. But now... it’s like we finally figured it out.—

Their moment was interrupted by a knock at the door.

—Room service!—

Lando groaned dramatically as he rolled off the bed. —Saved by the burgers.—

Amelie sat up, laughing as he retrieved their order. They set up their makeshift feast on the bed, unwrapping the burgers and digging in without a hint of shame.

—This is heaven,— Amelie said between bites, her voice muffled.

—Agreed. Nothing beats burgers after a wild night,— Lando replied, sipping his milkshake.

They talked about everything and nothing, their laughter filling the room as the hours ticked by. By the time they finished eating, they were sprawled out across the bed, the remnants of their meal forgotten on the nightstand.

Amelie turned her head to look at him, her hair a mess and her makeup slightly smudged. —You’re my favorite person, you know that?—

Lando smiled, reaching over to brush a fry crumb off her chin. —And you’re mine.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she flopped back onto the bed dramatically. —Ugh, you’re such a sap, Lan. But I guess it’s cute.—

Lando leaned over, propping himself on one elbow as he looked down at her. —Admit it. You like it.—

She tilted her head, pretending to think. —Mmm, maybe just a little.—

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her again, this time a quick, affectionate peck. —That’s what I thought.—

Amelie stretched, her limbs splayed out like a starfish, and let out a satisfied sigh. —So, what’s next on our wild Bali adventure? Midnight swim? Karaoke in the lobby?—

—We could do both. But you might scare everyone off with your singing,— Lando teased, dodging the pillow she chucked at him.

—First of all, rude. Second, I have the voice of an angel, thank you very much.—

—An angel who’s had too many cocktails,— he shot back, grinning.

She sat up, narrowing her eyes at him. —Keep talking, Norris, and you’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight.—

Lando raised his hands in surrender, laughing. —Alright, alright. Truce. But only because I like my spot on this bed.—

Amelie smiled triumphantly before sliding off the mattress to grab her toiletries. —Speaking of which, I’m calling dibs on the bathroom first. Don’t even try to argue.—

He watched her with an amused expression as she disappeared into the en suite, leaving the door slightly ajar. The sound of water running and Amelie humming some pop tune drifted out. Lando shook his head, a fond smile on his face as he started gathering their discarded wrappers and cups.

By the time Amelie emerged in an oversized T-shirt and pajama shorts, her face freshly washed and glowing, Lando had tidied up their late-night feast.

—Your turn, Casanova,— she said, flopping back onto the bed with her phone.

He grabbed his bag and headed into the bathroom, his voice echoing out as he called, —Don’t fall asleep on me, Ames. I’ve still got a solid ten minutes of banter left in me.—

Amelie laughed, scrolling through her messages and occasionally checking Instagram. She saw a few blurry snaps from the party already circulating, but nothing too incriminating. Still, she made a mental note to remind Lando to stay vigilant about cameras when they were out.

When he returned, his hair damp and sticking up in all directions, she couldn’t help but laugh. —You look like a wet puppy.—

Lando rolled his eyes, crawling onto the bed beside her. —You’re lucky I like you, or I’d be taking offense right now.—

—Oh, please. You’re obsessed with me,— she teased, leaning into his side.

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. —You’re not wrong.—

They settled in, the glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains. Amelie rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing absent patterns on his shirt.

—Do you ever think about how weird this all is?— she asked softly.

Lando glanced down at her, his brows knitting in curiosity. —What do you mean?—

—Just... us. How we went from being idiots on Twitch to this. Sharing a hotel bed in Bali, eating burgers at 2 a.m., trying to avoid the paparazzi. It’s surreal.—

He hummed in agreement, his fingers running through her hair. —Yeah, but it’s a good kind of weird. Like, the best kind.—

She smiled, her eyes fluttering shut. —Yeah. The best kind.—

They fell into a comfortable silence, the hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of waves lulling them into a hazy contentment. As they drifted off, Amelie murmured sleepily, —You better not snore, Lan.—

Lando chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. —No promises, love.—

And with that, they let the world fade away, tangled up in each other and the kind of happiness that felt too good to be real.

[blingblong55]

The sun and moon-Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

Okay, but I was on TikTok and you’re the only blog I know who really likes Makarov besides me and 🙈😭😫🥰🙈 if you know the audio, that goes like 🎶 me and the devil… walking side by side 🎵 it made me think of him and reader and just, like… idk. Becoming his queen and I just love the idea of him seeing all this (whether he saw it from the beginning or noticed it after a while/before anyone else) potential in you that no one else seemed to, and fosters that in you, making you two a power couple in your little dynasty. He may do the dirty work and have blood on his hands, but you’re just trying to do good and make the world a better place again, even if it’s by any means necessary. Idk. Maybe it’s also bc I also just love hades & persephone sm too and it also gives me the grumpy & sunshine trope as well in a way too but I thought I’d share bc I’ve been loving this thought so much 🥰😭🥰🙈 ---- F!reader, romance/fluff, established!relationship ----

A/N: making this honestly lets me be a little more creative so thank you! I just couldn't stop writing and I think this will be the best I've ever done

Russia is a place known to be cold, and really, for him this is what life is like. For you, on a different side of the world, it's more calm and beautiful.

In the world of cruelty, there exists a power couple like no other. Vladimir Makarov, feared and revered, walks the path of darkness, his hands stained with the blood of many. Yet, beside him stands y/n, his love, the queen of his heart and his guiding light. Together, they forge a new destiny, a dynasty built on strength.

He is a titan among men, commands armies with a flick of his wrist and leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. To stand in front of him, it so is in the presence of death itself yet, there is one who walks beside him, a figure shrouded in mystery and clocked in the endgame of your own making.

Y/n, they call you, a name whispered in hushed tones by those who have glimpsed her fleeting presence. To some, you're a beacon of hope, a flicker of light in the darkness, your mere presence enough to quell the storm raging within Makarov's soul. But who are you, his angel, who holds the heart of the most feared man in the world? Some say you're his queen, his equal in every way, gaze as steely as his own, resolve unshakable in the face of adversity. Others whisper of a love born from the depths of despair, forged in the fires of war, a bond that transcends time and space.

As the world trembles beneath the weight of their combined might, one thing remains certain: where there is Vladimir Makarov, there too shall be y/n, walking side by side, their destinies entwined in a dance of darkness and light, love and war.

Amid chaos and carnage that define their existence, Makarov sits by a window, looking out to the gardens. In the hazy corridors of his mind, he recalls the first time he laid eyes on you, a glimpse of beauty amidst the ugliness of war. "What's her name?" He asks one of his men. You stood before him, gaze unwavering, spirit unbroken. "Y/n, daughter of-" "go away," he says sternly and walks up to you. "As beautiful as day, Y/N," he takes your hand and kisses it. "Who are you?" Oh, that soft voice of yours that melts his cold heart. "Vladimir but you can call me Vovo," his accent rich and smooth.

There is something about you that sets you apart from the rest, that ignited a spark of curiosity within him.

"Makarov, war is on," a man walked into the room. "If you must excuse me dear, I have some…stuff to do," he walks out of the room as if it's just another typical day for him.

Days passed, and you were told to stay indoors since you didn't seem capable of winning a war, much less fighting one. And with one knock on the door, he walks inside, interrupting your train of thought. "C'mon, I'm not letting your beauty rot in this room," he says, extending his hand and you take it without doubt. "Where are we to go?" you ask.

"To battle my dear, but you'll stick beside me," he mentions, guiding you through the dark corridors.

And as he is called back to attention, the beautiful memory fades. As it fades and the present comes crashing back, Makarov is left with a sense of longing, a yearning for a time when the world was simpler, when he and you were just two souls bound together by fate. And though the scars of war may never heal, he takes solace in the knowledge that no matter what the future may hold, he will always have you by his side.

As the years go by, you two navigate the treacherous landscape of warfare. Where his iron fist strikes, you are the steady hand that holds the light for him to come back home.

You've learned a lot from him, from fighting to learning that not all his wrongs are from pure hate and cruelty.

It's a waltz, a dangerous, blood-driven waltz.

In the middle of all the turmoil in their line of work, there are moments of intimacy between you two, moments when they cast aside the weight of their burdens and simply exist in each other's presence. In those fleeting moments, they are not leaders of armies or the rulers of wars but two souls bound together by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion.

And though the world trembles at the sound of your names, Makarov and Y/N stand unwavering, their hearts intertwined in a dance of passion and desire. For in each other, they have found solace in a world consumed by chaos, a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounds them.

"Vovo?" you say comfortably in his arms. "Любимая?" (darling) "Will there be a day where this will end?" "Yes, but until then, I'll just keep holding you close," his warm lips meet your forehead.

They've said before that Makarov reigns as a formidable figure, feared and respected by all who cross his path. His domain is a world of shadows and chaos, where darkness reigns supreme and few dare to tread. You, you're a vision of beauty and grace that was consumed by war.

As yet another storm is to come, you and him stand together. "Don't ever leave me, okay?" he pleas. "Like I ever was," you smile.

In the shadows, he lurks and in the sun, you dance. No evil, no war and no man can separate you from the other.

It's beautiful, how you can be so opposite. Vladimir was midnight and you were sunshine. He preferred a dark room and a sunroom. Dark clothes covered him and you with warm and beautiful colours. It's a peculiar kind of love and it's warm. Loving the devil, loving an angel. The same story is told just like Hades and Persephone.

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[pretty-little-mind33]

hii can i get that pop music thing with pietro and "Did you just confess your feelings to me?"

happy 3k! i love your work

SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION

thanks lovely 💕🤍 this turned a little hurt and comfort but it wasn't my intention haha, hope you like it!

~ 🎶 ~

"Alright, who's doing it?" you ask, walking into the common living room of Stark Tower where, usually, everyone hangs out after a long day. You'd just found another one of them your lap top.

You drop the letters on the coffee table near the couch and Natasha jumps up, grabbing them. "It's love letters," she hums, smirking.

You grab the crumbled up paper from her. "Yes. Now who's been leaving them around for me. It's not funny anymore."

"Funny?" Pietro pipes up, his accent thick. Wanda pushes his legs off of her, where he'd been laying, and dusts her skirt. You look at him, narrowing your eyes.

"Yes. Funny. It isn't funny when you have someone making fun of you like this," you explain, clearly frustrated and the team just send you confused looks.

This makes you more frustrated and you grab the letters, storming out of the room. It wasn't the first time the team would play pranks on you but this was downright cruel.

You slam the door to your room shut, dropping the letters into your trash can as you sink into your bed, tears brimming in your eyes. God, you're such a crybaby, you reprimand yourself, but you can't help the tears from falling.

You feel so stupid.

Suddenly, Pietro is by your side. He's left the blue streaks behind him as he sits beside you, his gaze intense with worry. You gasp, shooting up as you almost fall from your bed.

"What the fuck?!" you cry, looking at your door. It's still shut.

"Door was open," Pietro whispers, his eyes filled with worry as he appears at your opposite side, closer to you. You shriek, pushing him away.

"Will you stop doing that, Piet?!" you ask, clutching your heart. "You're scaring me." You narrow your eyes at him. He's more jumpy than he usually is.

Pietro holds up a letter he must have retrieved from your trash. "You don't like them?" he asks, sounding a little hurt.

You're even more confused. "'Course I don't! They're a joke."

Pietro's nose scrunches up in confusion. "Joke?"

"Yes, like…something funny…only it isn't funny!" you try explaining.

Pietro shakes his head. "No. I know what joke means. Just…why would you think they're jokes?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Because who on the team would write me love letters?" you ask rhetorically, almost laughing at the thought.

"Me," Pietro says bluntly, his expression serious.

Your jaw drops. "What?"

"I thought you'd like them. Signed a little x at the bottom too because apparently it stands for kiss and Wanda—"

"Did you just confess your feelings for me?" you interrupt him, eyes wide.

Pietro's voice dies. He looks directly at you. "Yes. I like you. I've said it a thousand times in my letters," he points out but his voice is muffled by your lips on his. Your heart feels full.

"I like you too," you whisper, pulling away and smiling. "Why didn't you tell me in person?"

"Can't a guy be nervous," Pietro chuckles sheepishly, rubbing his thumb on your sides as he holds your waist. "Plus, I did really think you'd like the letters."

"I do like them," you smile, kissing his nose, "now that I know they're from you."