#Fleet Champions

[wildbluesorbit]

good morning❤️‍🩹

[leviathanlazarus]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part XIV

Read previous parts here or read on Ao3

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~3500

Warnings: vampire stuff, you know how it is;)

---

“I really don’t know how else to explain this to you,” Sam said to Josh. They had been sitting outside in the same patio chairs that Jake and Danny had been sitting in on the night of their birthday celebration, and Sam was completely exhausted. He missed Danny desperately. But he also felt perhaps just as much red-hot rage and betrayal so strong that it blew through him like a tornado.

“Samuel, just saying something is something doesn’t make it true,” Josh countered, small enough to lift his legs up and cross them in the chair. “Just saying Danny is a vampire isn’t going to make me believe it.”

Sam groaned, tipping his head back to look at the blazing sunset for a few seconds instead of his brother’s disbelieving face. He actually hadn’t expected Josh to be such a hard sell–Josh loved mythology as much, if not more, than his twin, and was always full of whimsy, always creating stories and lore of his own. 

“I told you, Josh,” Sam whined, snatching the pack of cigarettes that was sitting idly between them. He’d never smoked so much in his life apart from the past four days. “The hickies, Danny avoiding you–that’s stuff you saw firsthand. I’ve felt his fangs in me, I get to see them all the time. Those are real. He drinks blood for fuck’s sake, and he has to drink it to stay alive.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“What, like I’m gonna take a moral stance against a fucking hot as fuck vampire who actually doesn’t kill people?” Sam snorted with a cigarette in one hand and the lighter in the other. “Yeah, right.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Josh said, taking the pack back for his own indulgence. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around it, that’s all. How have I been alive for this long and not known vampires are real?”

“Danny always stresses that it’s not glamorous,” Sam supplied, and saying his name again had his heart turning wistful and sore.  “Like I said before, he refers to it as a disease. He’s been infected and it’s just something he has to deal with, but he doesn’t wanna hurt anyone. I’m sure he’s not alone in trying to be stealth.”

“Does he hurt you?”

Sam shook his head while he took a drag. “Fuck no. I fucking love it.”

Josh snorted. “I should have known. You’ve never once looked…hm. Turned off by him, I suppose I could say.”

Sam’s cheeks flushed. “TMI, Josh. Sorry.”

Josh gave a wave of his hand. “Nah, fuck it. He’s hot, Sammy. Anyone can see that.”

Sam narrowed his eyes behind the smoke and stared at his brother. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t get any ideas. Jake’s bad enough for–” He stopped, fingers going limp as they held the cigarette, not sure what he was even accusing Jake of. 

“Bad enough for what? You don’t think they’ve fucked around, do you?”

The incredibly brief blip of that image sent Sam’s heart into a wild frenzy, his mind reeling, the smoke in his lungs acrid. “No, I know they haven’t. Danny would never. He said he just wants to be friends.”

“Also fair.”

Sam sighed, physically too exhausted to get worked up into his own frenzy. “So, since Danny got ‘infected’ or however you want to say it, he’s isolated himself. He’d go out to feed, y’know, because he had to, and he has his job and his family. But that was it.” He took another drag, not entirely ignoring how his hand was shaking a bit. “He didn’t know how to tell anyone. Like, of course no one would believe him, right? You don’t.” At that, Josh shook his head, but Sam went on: “And then we found each other and it’s been great. And maybe I’m being selfish because, fuck it, yeah, a part of me wants all of Danny all to myself all the time. But I know he deserves friends and he and Jake get along really well, but–shit. Why’d they have to fucking lie to me, Josh?”

Josh was silent, face contemplative with his eyes cast out, looking into the trees and the sky for a few moments, then he said, “All I can say right now, Sammy, is that Danny loves you like a motherfucker and it sounds like he was a little scared and unsure of how to navigate all of this. As for Jake, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. He’s just–” Another, shorter pause as Josh waved his hand in the air, searching for the word while Sam searched his face. “He’s a romantic. And you know how much he loves vampires. To him, I bet it seems like you hit the jackpot and he can’t even get a scrap of leftovers.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam began, looking down at the ash he tapped from his cigarette. “Danny’s mine. Sucks to be Jake, I guess.”

“Sam. We need to take this in stride. Jake is your brother. Yes, he should have done more than just hint to you by reading Dracula in front of you,” Josh said with a quiet chuckle. “But put yourself in his place for a second. I have a feeling you’d also be trying to covet a secret friendship with a vampire, too.” He leaned over to elbow Sam in the arm. “Hello, Sammy! You were already doing that.”

“It’s Danny’s secret, not mine. I wasn’t just gonna tell you guys.”

“Well, did you talk more with Danny about that after your birthday trip? It sounds like you wanted it to be a secret more than he did.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped; he flicked ash from the cigarette again and gave a simple but despondent, “Not really.”

“Ah. Perhaps that’s worth considering,” Josh replied, gently jostling Sam’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, but you all have to make it okay. I also bet Danny is dying to see you right now.”

“Yeah.” Sam let the silence stick around, smoking some more, letting the acrid smoke fill his lungs some more, until a little alarm rang in his head. “Oh fuck,” he sputtered, that smoke spewing from his lips. “He hasn’t–shit, he hasn’t fed in so long.” The explicit thought being, Danny could actually be dying.

“How long?” Josh asked, Sam not even fully looking at him as he sprung to his feet and grabbed his phone from the deck banister. “How long can he go?”

“About a week,” Sam replied, hitting the call button beneath Danny’s name on his screen. “A week on average. Sometimes a little longer, but not much.”

“How long has it been?”

Sam stamped the cigarette out in the ashtray so hard the whole thing skidded off the table and onto the deck floor, gray ash puffing into the air. “Longer than that.” He could see now how selfish he’d been about all of this, but not even realizing Danny had gone so long without blood made Sam want to die himself. Danny also, Sam knew, wouldn’t go out for a stranger again. Not after he learned how much it hurt Sam, how much Sam begged, what they ended up having together. No, Danny would just let himself starve to simply not bother anyone else, Sam especially.

“No answer?” Josh asked, glancing up from his kneeling position on the wood, trying to scoop whatever ash he could back into place. 

Sam huffed and dialed again. “No.” It rang and rang and went to voicemail again. He locked his phone and started to charge back to the house. “I gotta go over there.”

Not a second passed before Josh said, right behind him, “I’m coming with you, Sammy.” Sam kept moving, gathering his keys, putting on shoes, frantic and frazzled until a small yet strong hand found his arm and made him steady. “He’ll be alright,” Josh said, and though the statement was admittedly a little comforting, Sam couldn’t fully believe it.

-

“I’d love it if you could help me,” Danny told Jake, looking at his neck, his bare arms and wrists–the parts of his body that were visible and that Danny could bite. The parts he did want to bite and drink from, not even to test his taste theory or because he was attracted to Jake, but because he really was so desperate. “But if we did that, Sam would hate me and then, not to be melodramatic or anything, but I really wouldn’t have much of a reason to live.” Not since the beginning of his new life as a vampire had he ever been so depleted–completely empty and clinging to life. But there was no way in hell he was going to betray Sam any further. 

Jake let out a long, slow breath with a matching slow nod. “Okay. So let’s call Sammy, right? At the very least, you guys need to talk.”

Danny nodded too, grabbing his phone from the end table beside the couch. He’d had it on mute all day and had hardly looked at it, since each time he did he just wanted to reach out to his boyfriend over and over. A cold chill ran down his spine when he saw the missed calls from Sam, all from just a few minutes prior. 

“He’s been calling me,” he told Jake, putting the phone to his ear after he hit “call back.” On the second ring, Sam picked up the call, a quick blurt of Danny’s name punctuated with a question mark coming in past the sound of wind. “Hey, Sam,” Danny said, sitting forward on the couch, legs bent straight, feet against the floor, while Jake shifted next to him, positioning himself the same way.

“Thank god you’re alive,” Sam said. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Danny–I didn’t even realize how long it’s been. I’m on my way.”

Danny’s instinct led him to thoughts of, You don’t have to, it’s okay, don’t worry about it, take all the time you need, but no–fuck that, he concluded. “You’re my hero,” he said instead, smiling a little and nearly forgetting Jake was even next to him. “My white knight. You know I just wanna see you though, right? It’s not about–”

“You need it, Daniel, and I want you to have it from me.”

Danny became more aware of Jake again; he glanced over at him picking at the label on his beer bottle and watching Danny right back. “I always want it from you. I always want you.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Danny. Promise. We’ll talk more after,” Sam told him. “I’m almost there. Josh is with me, by the way.”

Danny swallowed. “That’s totally cool. Um–Jake is here.”

An unsettling pause festered for a long moment before Sam said, “Oh, he is? Great. That’s–fuck. Did you–”

“No. Nothing,” Danny interrupted. “We’ve just been talking. He was worried.”

Sam sighed. “Fine. I really don’t want to see him right now but–it’s fine. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Soon,” Danny repeated. “Thank you.” 

More unsettling silence–foreign to Danny when he was normally with Jake–settled in the apartment. Thankfully, the wait was short and soon enough, his buzzer went off; Danny got to his feet again but, also again, found himself wobbly and lightheaded. Jake hopped up and placed gentle hands on his shoulders, easing him back down onto the couch.

“Just sit,” he said, voice soft, even a bit weak–Danny didn’t doubt Jake was also feeling guilty now. “I’ll let them up.”

“I should give Sam my spare keys,” Danny said, embarrassed that he hadn’t offered them any sooner. They’d just always come to his place together. Perhaps those keys would be one step in the road to making up with his boyfriend. 

“He’d like that,” Jake said, who stayed idle by the door, letting his body relax against the wall while his face looked anything but. It was odd for Danny to see him that way; then again, Danny could imagine how odd he looked too, all drained and debilitated. 

After being buzzed up, no knock interrupted the dreadful silence that had resumed–Sam just burst through the door, blazing right past Jake while Josh trailed behind him, and Danny barely had time to blink before his beloved was right in front of him. Sam sank to his knees in front of the couch, hands resting on Danny’s thighs as he looked up at him with far more worry and care than Danny had been expecting to receive right away.

“Fuck. Fuck, Danny, I’m so sorry,” Sam said, grimacing and taking one of Danny’s hands in his.

Danny chuckled. “Do I really look that bad?”

“You look sick,” Sam said, unable to be any more descriptive than that. Before he’d realized how long it had been since Danny had fed, he’d been prepared to eventually approach him with guns blazing, with the rage and self-righteousness he was so comfortable with. All that changed once he realized the situation and his feelings softened further when he got Danny on the phone; but being right in front of him and seeing the pale skin, hollowed cheeks, the bruise-like half moons beneath his eyes and dry lips alarmed Sam so badly that he knew he had just as much to feel guilty about. If not more.

“Hey,” Josh said, just loud enough to break both Sam and Danny’s focus. “Jake and I are gonna go for a walk. We’ll come back and talk?”

Danny nodded; Sam huffed and turned back to him as he said to his brothers, “Don’t rush.” When the door shut and they were in the clear, Sam got up and planted himself right in Danny’s lap, hands on those usually strong but now slumped and deflated shoulders. “Okay, let’s go. And before you say it, don’t say it.”

Danny felt better just being able to touch Sam, though the hunger undeniably remained. It even grew with Sam on top of him, his scent all up in Danny’s face, his skin so smooth and perfect looking, then warm beneath his hands as Danny gripped Sam’s arms. “Say what?”

“Say ‘are you sure?’”

“Well–”

Sam grabbed a fistful of hair from Danny’s nape and gave a warning tug. “Nope. I’m not playing that game today, Daniel.” He brought his neck closer to Danny’s mouth. “Drink up.”

Finally wise enough to not question anything further, Danny did. He hugged Sam into his body, brushed his hair back and sank his teeth into that beautiful neck. He was so overwhelmed by finally being able to hold his boyfriend again, smell him, taste him again, that he didn’t care about the brutal “hickey” that would be leftover or how they even got to this point in the first place. He just breathed and tasted, drinking up his fill of warm, sweet, unbelievably delicious blood from his unbelievably incredible boyfriend. 

Sam didn’t really care either at the moment. He closed his eyes and hugged Danny right back, sighing and relaxing as he sucked as much as he needed, always so careful to never go even slightly overboard. It might have been weird–even downright messed up–but Sam felt safe when they did this. He wanted Danny to feel the same way. So he kept holding him tight as Danny slurped the last little mouthful, then licked and kissed the bite marks until they faded. 

“So are you okay?” Sam asked once Danny pulled back. His neck burned as his skin always did once the biting and bloodsucking was over, but his heart burned even hotter.

Danny sighed through his nose as he licked his lips. He finally felt warm and sort of full–relieved and safe physically, but still unsteady emotionally. “I don’t know. Are we okay?”

Sam slid off Danny’s lap and sat beside him instead, suddenly feeling quite debilitated himself. “I don’t know.” He looked over at the beer bottle that had been left behind by his brother. “What’s been going on with you and Jake?”

“Not really anything, honestly, Sam,” Danny said, reaching for his own neglected beer. “I didn’t think so anyway. I just–it’s like I told you. I was worried he’d lose interest in being my friend if the secret between us died so fast, you know? Like, I just wanted to keep a little intrigue. A little mystery.”

“Danny, what’s more intriguing and mysterious than just being a fucking vampire?” Sam countered, taking the beer for a sip of his own after Danny drank. “I don’t get why it needed to be a secret for you two.” He saw the hurt in Danny’s face and continued: “But I don’t think I made things very easy for you. I was the one who was adamant about everything being secret from everyone and…and that wasn’t fair to you.”

Danny sighed. “Thank you.”

“I just didn’t want you with anyone else anymore. Anyone else, including my brothers.”

“I have no interest in being with anyone else.” Danny chuckled and took the beer back. “Why do you think I’ve been fucking starving lately?”

Sam lunged forward to plant a kiss on Danny’s forehead, cradling his face in his hands. “You’re a good boy. I know. And I’m a fucking selfish asshole.”

Danny shook his head, taking Sam’s hands in his own. “We’ve both been a little selfish. We can work through that. Right now, I’m more worried about you and Jake.”

Sam flopped back with a loud sigh, gangly limbs draping themselves over the half of the couch where Jake had been sitting. “Yeah, me too. But I’m pissed at him. Don’t I have a right to be?”

“You do,” Danny agreed, knowing the road to success for everyone was placating Sam above all else. “I think there’s some things he wants to explain to you. But I can tell you now that he never meant any harm.”

Sam believed that. Jake and Josh and Sam had never been anything but loyal, ride-or-die best friends and brothers since they were kids, no matter how many fights they had throughout the years. Sam would prefer to hash things out with fists than words, but he knew that wouldn’t work this time. Still, when the twins returned and Jake started explaining his side of things, hearing that he had feelings for Danny made it very difficult to not start throwing punches. That was an even worse secret. It proved Sam’s hunches had been right and made Jake to be even more of a traitor in his mind.

Hands clenching into tight fists while Jake spoke, Sam was so hurt and angry he was mostly speechless, only sparing a few grunts of disapproval and scoffs. Jake looked hurt too, with sad, dark eyes that pleaded for his brother to just take it easy on him, not even necessarily forgive him. Beside him, Danny kept one hand on Sam’s thigh as if to try and keep him from springing up and lashing out; but as much as Sam felt that urge, he also still felt exhausted. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t a teenager anymore–he had to remember that if there was one thing he could never control, it was how other people felt. It wasn’t Jake’s fault he had a crush on Danny. It wasn’t Danny’s fault either. It wasn’t Danny’s fault he was a vampire. But it was Sam’s own fault for being so demanding and harsh, for trying to box his boyfriend in and for making it even harder for those secrets he hated so much to be revealed at all.

 “I just like vampires,” was what Jake concluded with, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, looking down and fiddling with the fibers of the carpet. “I like Danny too, for more reasons than just that. I’m really sorry I crossed a line, Sam. And Danny, too. Sorry to both of you.”

Sam let all of Jake’s words linger for a minute while he let his breathing slow. With another sigh, he sat forward, hanging his arms between his knees, and looked at his brother as he said, “I love you, Jake. Just stop fucking flirting with my boyfriend.”

Both twins’ faces relaxed at that, but Josh was the first to actually laugh. Jake laughed next, quieter, and nodded while he replied, “Okay. I can do that.”

“You have to admit it, Sammy,” Josh chimed in, and Sam knew it must have been excruciating for him to stay silent this whole time. “Danny really is quite alluring.” 

“I admit that freely,” Sam said, giving his boyfriend a grin before turning back to his brothers. “But he’s mine.”

---

Tagging: @mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @milojames16 @brokebellsgvf @streamsofstardust

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, you can go here or DM me :)

[sandboxscenes]

You've been challenged! (Pokemon AU)

A/N: This is an experimental piece that I wanted to try out because I was inspired by this Pokemon Battle featuring Delphox. This is a different take on a Genshin Impact Pokemon AU. This was done in conjunction with @xianyoon for their Extreme Bias Game. Special thanks to @floraldresvi for assisting me with the ideas for Thoma's section.

Characters: Lyney, Thoma

Genre: Mostly fluff, with hints of angst

Summary:

Pokemon and Genshin collide in this Pokemon style AU that answers the question: What would happen if the characters you encountered in Genshin Impact challenged you?

If you were challenged by them, what would be their in-game tagline when they challenged you to a battle? What would their title be on the game screen? And most importantly, what would be their character summaries?

In short, it positions the different Genshin Impact characters as in-game coded sprites.

Word Count: Lyney (277 words), Thoma (328 words)

You have been challenged by the House of Hearth's Second in Command, Lyney!

Tagline: "Let's give them a show to remember!"

Brief Summary:

Tricks, Illusions, and Magic galore! Whenever anyone takes a seat at Lyney's shows in the Court of Fontaine, they will be in for a magical time. Charming, charismatic, and talented are all words that describe the renowned magician. Lyney and his aforementioned magic shows are famous across the Fontanian landscape. But few know the man behind the spectacle.

Growing up, Lyney owes much of his present success to his upbringing in orphanage known as: The House of Hearth. His sister, Lynette, and his (adopted) brother, Freminet, also grew up there as well. While not much is known about The House of Hearth, it is full of unexpected surprises.

To Lyney, family means to the world to him. He will do anything to protect it. Second only to the "Father" of the House of Hearth, he is the one that will eventually be "Father's successor." Despite his young appearance, there is a reason that he is the second in command. Anyone who ends up underestimating him, regrets it.

For the Magician Lyney, he always wants to keep people on their toes. His Pokemon are the same way. Some of Lyney's trusted Pokemon partners include the show stopping, Delphox and Meowscarada. They also have some tricks up their sleeves as well.

Special Notes:

Lyney's interest in magic has spread to his Pokemon too. His Delphox is a bit of a magician as well - blink and things will disappear. On the other hand, his Meowscarada is ready for anything. It's able to adapt on the fly, like any good magician does.

-------

You have been challenged by the mysterious foreign fixer, Thoma!

Tagline: "Let me protect you. It's what I want to do."

Basic Summary:

Inazuma is a land of tradition.

However, Thoma himself has a very non-traditional skill set.

As someone with skills in cooking and cleaning, he enjoys using his skills to assist people whenever he can. His earnest kindness, his willingness to help, and loyalty have made him well liked among the Inazuman Citizens, despite their wariness towards foreigners.

As a foreigner, Thoma cares deeply about others. He knows what it's like to have people be wary of you due to things out of his control. As someone with a deep sense of duty and loyalty, he is not someone who forgets his debts or reneges on them.

Thoma's actions have earned him the nickname of fixer, as he is well-versed in the art of fixing problems. For someone like Thoma, resolving things peacefully is always preferable. Whether it's a small fight between children over toys to a fight between foreign and local merchants, Thoma would prefer if both sides could compromise.

But if things things escalate, don't be fooled.

When push comes to shove, Thoma's willing to do what it takes to protect himself and his family from harm. Once you have wormed your way into the heart of the foreign fixer, he will protect you until his dying breath.

For the mysterious Fixer, he is well-informed of any happenings going on in Inazuma. He has to be, due to the nature of his job.

With such a dangerous job, he needs partners he can rely on.

One of his trusted Pokemon partners is Talonflame. Talonflame soars above the skies of Inazuma, its keen eyes alerting Thoma to any potential issues that may arise within Inazuma. And for those conflicts that can't be fixed peacefully and require a 'forceful' touch, Thoma's other partner Blaziken, is there to help - both its master, its family, and the people of Inazuma.

[izar-tarazed]

Which DnD class suits your personality?

Izar: Wizard

You love to learn, whether in a traditional academic setting or on your own. You definitely look before you leap and you may spend so much time coming up with a plan (or five) that you never actually get around to leaping at all. You work best when you’ve had time to prepare. You love getting to the heart of something and really understanding it on a deeper level.

You may not be the strongest physically, but few can match your sharp mind.

Subclass: Order of Scribes

Among wizards, the Order of Scribes is the most bookish. It takes many forms in different worlds, but its primary mission is the same everywhere: recording magical discoveries so that wizardry can flourish. And while all wizards value spellbooks, a wizard in the Order of Scribes magically awakens their book, turning it into a trusted companion. You’re a curious person who highly values the preservation of knowledge.

You probably have really strong feelings about the Library of Alexandria Raya Lucaria. You’re pretty resourceful and you’re good at using whatever tools are available to you to help you learn what you want to know or to accomplish a goal. You can happily spend a whole day absorbed by research or studying and you pour so much time and care into your work that you might start to see it as an extension of yourself.

Ensha: Fighter

You’re a practical and determined person who goes after what you want. You’re very competitive and may be a bit of a perfectionist, always challenging yourself to do better. You’re not an especially flashy person and you don’t care about status or luxury unless it’s something you’ve earned. You’re grounded and focused on the real world, more concerned with what is than with what could be.

Subclass: Champion

The archetypal Champion focuses on the development of raw physical power honed to deadly perfection. Those who model themselves on this archetype combine rigorous training with physical excellence to deal devastating blows. You’re a strong and determined person who cares a lot about self-improvement. You want to be the best version of yourself and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get there. You’re very resilient and it takes a lot to keep you down for long. At times you might be a little impulsive, planning is not necessarily your strong suit. You’re very straightforward, sometimes to the point of bluntness, and you feel that the most direct path is usually the best path.

___

Tagged by @fishermcn (thanks! I was actually looking for something like this!)

Tagging: @miseryscrowned (for whatever OC you see fit!) and anyone who'd like to do it!

[jinelle0212]

my current Clara build :3

no eidolons sadly

i got her a 5 star light cone as i reached lvl 35 :D i think that’s her signature? not sure but it does have her face? x3

relics are work in progress e.e

[lyctoralsaints]

tempestsmantle said : ❛ i... want to lie here. ❜ vex >:)

vex'ahlia can accept nearly everything, especially in the moments after a battle where sweat feels like iron and your lungs find themselves unable to expand. but she cannot allow keyleth to lay here . . . not when they're still in enemy territory. not when she saw some retreat rather than fall. hands clamber, at first, to grasp the druid and hoist her upward; fingers press into flesh with all lack of gentleness –– she will apologize for it later. keyleth is a tower of a woman. she forgets that sometimes seeing as the druid likes to posture herself smaller. forcing herself beneath keyleth's arm, she looks up into her face, attempting to read her expression. vex'ahlia is versed well in keyleth but right now she is unreadable. ❝  darling, ❞ she mutters, wincing at the sharpness in her side; probably a broken rib. this would be easier if trinket hadn't been sent back to the raven's slumber. ❝ I need you to help me out a bit. we need to find some shelter. and I don't know where the others are. ❞

[hwashitape]

god remember how DAI had like the best main quest titles ever in history /lh how will they top it like… does Tevinter have their own heretic Chant

[fugu-in-f]

oh no oh NO OH NO

the last time ai war fleet command was tagged on tumblr, it was 2016, eight fucking years ago

i am shouting my frustrations into a wind tunnel abandoned 3,000 years prior

my neat thing means nothing to anyone and bloody well hasn't for the last decade

i feel so alone

[wildbluesorbit]

What a lovely morning it is on this wonderful Wagner Wednesday🌼

[paladin-panoply-of-pax]

“Use your gifts and your talents to greatest possible effect while you can. Spread joy wherever possible. Laugh at jokes. Tell jokes. Make puns and bugger the embuggerances. Read books. Read my books. You might like them. You might find something else you like even more than them. Look for these things in life.

Question authority. Champion good causes. Speak out against injustice. Do not tolerate bullies or bigots or racists or anti-intellectuals or the narrow-minded. Use your education to challenge them. Broaden their perspectives. Make the world you interface with a happier place.

These are your choices. Choices you have been fortunate to have been given, so don’t waste them while you have them. Don’t look back in years to come and wish you had grasped a fleeting opportunity. Grasp it now with both hands, Live. Strive. Love.”

from A Little Advice for Life taken from ‘Terry Pratchett: from birth to death, a writer.’

—Sir Terry Pratchett; April 28, 1948 – March 12, 2015

One of the greatest compliments I've ever received is that I resemble Sam Vimes.

Mind how you go.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Doom of Ghis (Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: You decide to trick a Queen. It doesn’t quite go according to plan.

Warnings: Smut. Corruption kink. Twisting of religious rituals. Dubious consent? Fingering. Playing doctor.

A/N: I am tired of writing older man x younger woman. Meet older woman x younger woman. Palate cleanser in the middle of writing a new character. Also, I miss writing girls.

“THIS IS NOT a task fit for a Queen.” Rhaenyra looks at Corlys with narrowed eyes. Her annoyance at her own council has begun to build like a sore, and threatens to explode at any given moment.

Presently, it can’t. It would be in poor taste to do during dinner. Lord Corlys has asked her if they could sup in her quarters, to discuss a private matter. She had been expecting war preparations, not this.

“Yet it is a task we require of you.” Her Hand answers, unintimidated by her glare. Rhaenyra reminds herself it is a good thing, not to be feared. She wishes to be a wise Queen, one who is remembered as a champion of peace and not as the next Maegor the Cruel. She wants to be exactly like her father. Viserys the Peaceful.

Viserys the Peaceful never throttled his Hand. And his was much more irritating than hers.

“Why can’t we just… Forgone the custom?” She asks him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The House of Pahl is already offended by the offer we made them. Marrying one of their daughters, even if it is one of the ones from the second son, to a bastard is an insult. Not having Graces present for the ritual is, too. We cannot afford to offend them any further.”

“Can’t Baela do it?” It sounds childish even to her ears. Rhaenyra isn’t quite sure why she feels so awkward about the ritual, it’s hardly as if she will see something she is unfamiliar with herself. She bets the girl will be more awkward than her, and the thought of having to soothe her seems unappealing. “Or Lady Mysaria?”

“Both of them are quite busy with their duties.” Lord Corlys takes a second to drink from his goblet. It stings, the unspoken fact that Rhaenyra is not. “The Lady Mysaria would provide greater offense, considering her… Previous occupation and lack of relationship to me. As for Baela, I do not feel prudent to recall her from her patrols.”

“My own kinship to you is fairly removed.” Rhaenyra cuts a piece of venison and takes her time chewing. When a Queen wishes to speak, men wait. And it is important to remember her Hand of that fact, especially since he is asking favors. “I am, what? Your second niece? And only through marriage.”

“They feel honored that a Queen will perform the ritual for their daughter. And we need their coin.”

“Slaver’s coin.”

“Coin that will win us the war.” Lord Corlys interjects. “That will buy men. Armor. Weapons. Food.”

Rhaenyra doesn’t answer. She simply cuts another piece of venison.

YOU SIT ON the table, legs hanging off the edge. A fire is lit, and a tea set is already prepared on another low table, along with cushions. A small, dragonglass dome, covers the cakes the Queen and you will share. The message is clear. Your family expects the ritual to go without a hitch.

You aren’t too sure. This Queen you will meet, who will take the place of your elder because your betrothed has no suitable relative to do so, isn’t Ghiscari like you. She is Valyrian. You hate Valyrians.

Cloaked in your pink veil, and wearing your simplest white shift, you await her arrival. You remember your mother’s words. Befriend her. Let her use you and touch you as she pleases. Do not try to instruct her to perform the ritual the right way.

What your mother suggests, simply put, is to see if she can be seduced while being convinced she is the one doing the seducing. Her friendship could give House of Pahl an even greater advantage that you will be getting after you become Lady of the Tides.

Not only control over a fleet that can block trade routes by marrying a Valyrian bastard. Friendship to a Queen. Lover to one. A whispered word in her ear and your wishes shall be law if you play your cards right.

There is no shame in it, your father had said, when they had instructed you as to how to behave. The Red Graces and White Graces do the same and their blood is as noble as yours. They serve the Gods of Old Ghis by providing pleasure to many men. What is asked of you is to only pleasure a single woman.

A single woman who is Valyrian. Whose ancestors burned Old Ghis, and forced yours to flee to Mereen.

It’s not that you object to the fact that it is a woman. You object to Valyrians. They are ugly little things, with queer facial features and skin and hair too pale.

But the woman who enters the room is anything but. She is beautiful, dressed in a black gown that makes her look regal. She has a sweet face, and her distasteful colorless hair is pulled back. It looks less offensive that way, you suppose.

“Your radiance.” You address, lowering yourself from the table you sit in and curtsying. The title has never felt more apt. Her face is beautiful despite her age, and her body shapely.

“Good morrow.” The Queen says. Her voice is delightful too, strong and commanding, with a feminine quality to it. Seducing her now doesn’t seem like much of a chore. “We use the title of Your Grace here.”

“Your Grace.” You rectify, and give her another curtsy. Underneath your veil, you are giving her an apologetic smile. She cannot see it.

You wonder what she thinks of you, cloaked in a soft pink veil that covers both your hair and face. Thanks to the artfully draped pleats, she cannot see you, but you can see her.

She probably thinks you look like a strawberry dipped in clotted cream. You cannot wait to marry and use the Velaryon colors. They look much more dignified than yours.

“I was explained by your Lord Father that I will become your elder after this ritual.” She says, voice full of gravitas. “So there is no need for you to curtsy so much. I hope to become a mother to you.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” You are thankful she cannot see your face, or you would burst out laughing. It’s what is supposed to happen, yet you are not counting on it. “I am sure you are a busy woman. We should begin soon.”

You sit yourself on the table again, feet dangling. The table is the perfect height for bending you over it, but you do not comment on it.

“…I… Of course.” The Queen seems taken aback by how straightforward you are, which makes you smile.

You wait for her to come to you. She hesitates, as if unsure of herself, before coming to stand between your parted legs.

Slowly, her hands pull your veil back. You school your expression into one of quiet dutifulness.

Rhaenyra gasps slightly when she sees your face. You do not allow your face to change, but internally, you are dancing a gig. The veil had been a stroke of brilliance on your father’s part. He always said the best part of worshiping a Red Grace was the reveal.

“You are a beautiful young woman.” She says, starting to map out your features with her fingertips. Her touch is soft, as if scared of hurting you. You play the part of the blushing maiden, letting out a gasp of your own when she traces your lips. Her eyes darken. “Alyn is a very lucky man.”

This Alyn is an accomplished sailor, you hear, and on the fast track to become a Captain. His recent acknowledging by Lord Corlys only propels him higher. You have heard the men admired him from starting from below, unlike other Lord’s bastards.

It’s not a bad prospect. Any man can give you children, you know. It’s not a difficult task. Not every man can give you a fleet.

“And I am very lucky to be marrying him.” You say, after a while. Rhaenyra’s hands have stayed where they are, lingering on your jaw. She doesn’t dare move further down. Her eyes are focused on your lips, as if noticing how intimate the embrace the two of you are in.

Her hands, holding your jaw. Her hips, nestled in the space made by your spread legs.

She goes back to tracing your lips with her thumb, a storm brewing in her eyes. She is confused, this Queen of yours. The intimacy is getting to her, but her morals are holding her back. Rhaenyra is not supposed to take advantage of a maiden she is supposed to welcome as her daughter.

You decide to push her a bit. You take her thumb inside your mouth, cradling it softly in your tongue. Her eyes dart to yours, but you close them, as if delighted by what you are savoring.

Rhaenyra pulls back.

“What are you doing?” She snaps at you. Your eyes open, but your lips remain tantalizingly parted still.

“You are meant to inspect me wholly.” You try your best to sound shy. “Even inside. My mother said…”

Guilt passes once again over her features. You are a poor naive girl, who doesn’t feel anything like arousal. She is the one getting a sick satisfaction over a sacred ritual.

It’s not the truth, of course. But it is what she believes.

She slips her thumb inside your mouth again. You close your eyes, scrunching them tightly. Feigning embarrassment once more. Her thumb presses down on your tongue, drawing a line. It makes drool begin to gather at the corners of your mouth.

As Rhaenyra checks your molars with a careful press of her fingers, warmth begins to accumulate in your core. You open your eyes, looking at her.

She seems absorbed by the task. The Queen barely notices you are holding her gaze, fascinated by your warm mouth. She removes her thumb, wiping it on your chin.

Her hands trail lower. Down your jaw, and to your neck. She keeps her touch light, making you squirm. Everywhere she touches, a trail of goosebumps follows.

“Shh, sweet girl. You are doing so well.” She rubs your shoulder, probably thinking you shake from nervousness and not from pure, sheer want. “So well for your Queen.”

You feel your flower growing slick with her words. You worry if that will give you away when she reaches that part of the examination. Rhaenyra might yet discover that you are not as innocent as you pretend to be. It only makes you wetter.

Would she punish you if she found out? Pinch your little pearl until you cried? Spank your rear?

Her hands slip the straps of your shift down your shoulders. You are left bare in front of her.

Your nipples are pebbled. They have been since she started touching you.

The Queen doesn’t touch you there at first. Not where you need her the most. Instead, her hands trail over your shoulders, teasing you with promises of what is to come. She traces imaginary patterns, all the way to your forearms.

You fight the urge to whine. You just sit there, eyes on your lap, not attempting to cover yourself nor to help her, the picture of dutifulness.

She runs one of her fingers over a taut nipple. You hiss. She gives it a pinch, carefully observing your face. Perhaps wondering how far you will let her go.

You say nothing. She pinches the other one, gently. Then, she cups your breasts in her hands.

“A pretty pair, these.” Rhaenyra licks her lips. You wish she would wrap them around your nipples instead. She continues to give your breast soft caresses, squeezing from time to time. An amused smile appears on her face, when she sees how you twitch when she accidentally brushes your nipples.

“Lay down, love.” She orders you, pushing your stomach. You obey her, laying flat on the table. A feast spread for a dragon.

Her hand lowers your shift even more, exposing your belly button. She touches under it, over your womb. She presses down on it, and you gasp.

The pressure feels odd. It feels good, too. It’s not something you would have thought to do to yourself when playing on your own, but her hand feels scorching hot over your skin.

“Hurts?” She asks you, softly.

“Feels strange.” You reply. “Good.”

Rhaenyra hums. Her hands pull your shift down fully, and take it from you. You close your legs tightly, embarrassed at how wet you are. Your father had ordered you to remove all your body hair before the ritual, so you are bare for her to observe. Completely.

“Spread your legs, sweet girl.” It’s said with a frown. Her hand grazes your bare mound, puzzled by it.

You spread your legs. Your folds unstick with the motion, slick shining between your legs.

“It’s customary. To facilitate the checking of the womanly parts.” You offer her, suddenly embarrassed.

“I see.” Rhaenyra says, spreading your folds. It only makes your cunt leak more. She presses on your pearl with her thumb, almost playing with it. Her face is dark, eyes almost all pupils. No longer a queen, but a dragon.

She doesn’t comment on your wetness, but swirls one of her fingers on it, before dragging it all the way to your pearl. Then, she presses a finger into your hole, checking your maidenhead.

You barely muffle your squeal.

“Tell me.” She says, tone almost conversational, starting to rub circles on your pearl. “Is this customary, too?”

Your mind blanks. Your famous ability to talk your way out of almost everything fails you. She keeps rubbing maddening circles on your pearl, and when you do not answer, she slaps your flower.

You yowl like a kitten.

“Answer your Queen.” She orders.

“No, Your Grace. It’s not.” You have your answer, you suppose. What would she do? Spank your flower. She does so again, making you tense. The pain feels strangely good, forcing blood to rush to the area, warming it. When Rhaenyra runs her fingers over your hole after, everything feels much more heightened.

“Naughty girl.” She scolds. “Get down from the table, and bend over it.”

You obey her, a bit breathless. Rhaenyra remains fully dressed, with a stern look in her face that makes you tremble. Your naked body is now on display, but under her heated gaze, you feel no shame.

You let your upper body hover slightly over the table, hips bent, your backside and flower on display. She pushes down on your shoulder, until your face and chest are squashed against the rough wood of the table.

The wood grains feel interesting against your nipples, making you squirm. You are not sure if the rough scrape is pleasant or not.

“Don’t move.” Rhaenyra says, and spreads your cheeks open. You can feel your other hole winking at her, and she makes a pleased sound. She pushes a finger inside, and quickly retreats it when you tense.

“You have such a sloppy cunt, sweet girl.” She says, voice almost impressed. “It betrays your intentions so easily.”

She begins to torture your pearl once more. She presses inside, rubbing at something that makes your cunt gush.

Rhaenyra is relentless. You try to squirm, but her other hand is firm between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned down and spread for her. Her motions get faster, touching you in the way you like best. Your peak comes fast and unannounced, making you let out a muffled yelp.

“I think I have to examine you again.” She says, coyly. “Only to make sure.”

You cannot wait.

[helen-with-an-a]

Putting on a Show (18+)

This is thoroughly, thoroughly self-indulgent as it is my birthday. It's a long one and almost entirely all smut, so I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.

Ona Batlle x Reader

Description: Ona has a plan

TW: Smut; 18+ only

Word Count: 8.1k

I am no better than a man

Ona had a plan, one that had been simmering in the back of her mind for weeks. It was a simple idea at first, a fleeting thought that had gradually grown into something more substantial with each passing day. She had nurtured it quietly, letting it develop in the quiet moments between matches, in the late-night hours when sleep was elusive, and in the rare, fleeting minutes of solitude. Today, finally, she was ready to bring it to life.

It was the first day off she’d had in well over 6 weeks. The relentless pace of the season had been gruelling. International camps had wedged themselves between a never-ending stream of commitments – Liga F fixtures, intense Copa de la Reina showdowns, and the high-pressure Champions League matches. The packed schedule had left little room for anything else, least of all for the two of you to spend any meaningful time together. Every moment was consumed by the game, leaving her little chance to focus on anything other than training, tactics, and recovery.

But today was different. The plan, meticulously crafted and eagerly anticipated, was set to unfold. Ona had been waiting for this moment – a chance to break free from the rigid routines and the demands of professional football, even if just for a day. A chance to reconnect with you, to remind herself of the life beyond the pitch, and to bring to life the idea that had danced around in her head for so long.

Her plan had technically started the night before. With a sense of purpose that belied her casual demeanour, Ona had set things in motion. She joined some of the girls for an evening out, knowing full well how the night would unfold. They hit a few favourite spots, laughed over drinks, and soaked in the rare moment of freedom away from the rigours of their usual routine. But while the others might have been intent on letting loose, Ona had a different objective in mind. She made sure to enjoy herself – laughing, dancing, and sipping just enough to reach that perfect balance where she could still think clearly, yet feel a little lighter, a little more carefree.

She was careful, though, never crossing the line from pleasantly tipsy to outright drunk. Every move she made was deliberate, every drink measured. She had a plan to follow, after all, and it required her to stay in control. When the others decided to continue the night, she graciously bowed out, offering an easy smile and the excuse that she wanted to rest up. But really, Ona knew this part of the plan was crucial.

You had opted out of the evening from the start, claiming pure exhaustion after the relentless weeks of training, travel, and matches. The prospect of a quiet night and an early bed was too appealing to resist. Ona hadn’t been surprised by your decision; in fact, she had counted on it. It worked perfectly in her favour.

She made sure to put on a bit of a show as she prepared for the night out. It was all part of the plan, every detail carefully considered. With a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips, she switched on some gentle music, the kind that filled the room with a soft, inviting rhythm. The melodies flowed through the air, creating an atmosphere that was both relaxed and intimate. As the music played, Ona began to move, letting the beat guide her. Her hips swayed effortlessly, a subtle, rhythmic motion that was as natural as breathing, yet deliberately captivating.

Ona knew you were watching her. She could feel your eyes on her as she made her way through the room, and she leaned into it, letting the music draw her movements out, make them more fluid, more intentional. She moved with a grace that seemed almost unconscious, but every step, every turn, was a silent invitation for you to keep watching.

Taking her time, Ona lingered over her skincare routine, something that was usually a quick and functional process. Tonight, though, she turned it into a ritual. She smoothed the lotions and creams onto her skin with slow, deliberate strokes, as if savouring the feel of the products, letting them soak in not just to nourish her skin, but to heighten the anticipation that hung in the air. She caught your gaze in the mirror, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, and smiled softly to herself, knowing she had your full attention.

Applying her makeup became an art form, each brushstroke and touch of colour done with care and precision. She took significantly longer than usual, drawing out the process, knowing you were watching her every move. The way you followed her with your eyes, tracking her as she moved around the room, was exactly what she wanted. It was part of the game she was playing, a way to keep you intrigued, to keep you wondering what was going through her mind.

For the final act, Ona had saved her outfit – or at least, part of it. She had chosen a tight white crop top, the fabric hugging her torso and finishing just below her bra line, though she had conveniently "forgotten" to wear that particular item. The top clung to her curves, the soft fabric hinting at the shape beneath, while leaving just enough to the imagination. But it wasn’t just the crop top that made a statement. As she sat at the vanity in your shared bedroom, her dark blue thong was on full display. The fabric, or lack thereof, hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her figure and adding an extra layer of allure to the scene.

She knew exactly what she was doing. Every movement, every choice was part of a calculated plan to captivate you, to draw you in, and to leave you wanting more. And as she caught your gaze in the mirror once again, a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. Ona was in control, and she knew that tonight, the night she had carefully orchestrated from the very beginning, was only just beginning.

"Bub, do you have to go out?" you asked from the bed, your voice carrying a note of quiet pleading, as she slipped on her trousers, purposefully turning around and struggling to pull the material over her curves. The question hung in the air; your words softened by the drowsiness that had settled over you after the long, exhausting weeks. You watched her from where you lay, the comfort of the bed pulling you deeper into its embrace, yet your eyes remained fixed on Ona as she moved around the room with an almost hypnotic grace. The dim light of the room, combined with the gentle music in the background, made everything feel dreamlike, and you couldn’t help but wish she would abandon her plans and stay with you instead.

"Why don’t you just stay in?" you continued, your tone taking on a more persuasive edge as you propped yourself up on one elbow, trying to meet her gaze. The thought of her leaving after the demanding schedule you both had endured over the past few weeks made your heart sink a little. It had been such a hectic time, with barely any moments to breathe, let alone spend quality time together. The idea of her heading out into the night, while you remained behind, felt almost unbearable.

"It’s been a long couple of weeks," you argued softly, trying to appeal to her weariness, hoping she would see the sense in staying home. Your eyes followed Ona’s every movement, the way she meticulously finished getting ready, and you couldn’t help but notice the little details – how her skin glowed from her careful skincare routine, how the soft material of her crop top clung to her in all the right ways. Despite how stunning she looked, a part of you wished she would change her mind, slip out of her outfit, and climb back into bed with you, where you could both relax and enjoy each other's company without any distractions.

You could hear the faintest hint of longing in your own voice, a subtle plea for her to choose you over the night out. The quiet intimacy of your shared space, the warmth of the bed, and the comfort of simply being together seemed like the perfect alternative to whatever the night might hold for her outside. You knew how much she enjoyed these rare moments of freedom, but still, you couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd decide that tonight, staying in with you was the better option.

She pouted, her lips forming a soft, irresistible curve, accentuated by the sheen of the lip gloss she had just applied. The gloss caught the light, making her lips look even fuller, the subtle sparkle adding a touch of allure to her playful expression. It was a look designed to tug at your heartstrings, a mix of teasing and genuine consideration, as if she was weighing your suggestion against her own plans.

For a moment, Ona’s eyes lingered on you, taking in the sight before her. You did look thoroughly inviting, wrapped in the familiar comfort of your shared space. One of her ratty old Nike tops, well-worn and slightly oversized, draped over your frame, the fabric soft from years of use. It was one of those shirts that held a certain nostalgia, infused with memories of countless lazy mornings and late-night talks, a tangible piece of the life you two had built together. The sight of you in it stirred something warm and tender within her, a reminder of the simple, quiet moments you both cherished.

The fluffy duvet was tucked around you, enveloping you in its warmth, adding to the picture of cozy domesticity. You looked so at ease, so content, with your head resting lightly on the pillow, the soft material of the duvet pulled up to your chin. Your hair, slightly tousled from your earlier nap, framed your face in a way that made you look even more endearing, and the faint trace of a smile on your lips only deepened Ona’s internal conflict.

The way you looked at her, with that irresistible blend of sleepy affection and a hint of desire, made it abundantly clear that you wanted her to stay. It tugged at Ona’s heart in a way she hadn’t anticipated. For a moment, as she stood there with those glossy, inviting lips pouted just so, she seriously considered giving in. The idea of abandoning her plans and curling up next to you, of letting the night slip away while the two of you revelled in each other's warmth, was incredibly tempting. The image of the two of you tangled up in the duvet, talking softly or just lying in comfortable silence, made her heart flutter. She could almost feel the softness of the sheets, the way your body would fit perfectly against hers, the steady rhythm of your breathing lulling her into a state of peaceful contentment.

But then she caught herself. No. She had a plan – a carefully crafted plan that she’d been piecing together for weeks. That was the whole reason she was doing this, the reason she’d put on the show, the reason she was dressed and ready to go out.

Ona took a deep breath, steeling herself against the temptation. She reminded herself of how she wanted tomorrow to go, how all the little pieces she’d set into motion would come together. This was the kind of plan that required patience and a bit of sacrifice. And as much as she wanted to climb into bed with you right then and there, she knew that sticking to her plan would make everything even more worth it in the end.

So, she held onto that pout just a little longer, letting it soften into a small, knowing smile. “You know I’d love to stay, bellesa meva” she said, her voice warm and affectionate, “but I promise, this will be worth it.” She leaned down to give you a soft, lingering kiss, the taste of her lip gloss lingering on your lips as she pulled away. It was a kiss full of unspoken promises, a reminder that she wasn’t going out to escape you, but to create something memorable for the both of you.

With one last glance at you, tucked so comfortably in bed, she straightened up and gave a little wink. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she added, her tone playful yet full of intent. She leaned back down, gifting you a sweet kiss, filled with the promise of more.

And with that, she turned and headed for the door, her heart beating a little faster as she reminded herself of what was to come. The plan was in motion, and as much as she wanted to stay, she knew that leaving was the right choice. The night was just beginning, and when she returned, everything would be just as she had envisioned.

When Ona woke up in your arms the next morning, she felt a wave of contentment wash over her, knowing that the second part of her plan was now in motion. The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room and highlighting the peacefulness of the moment. She lay there for a few seconds, savouring the feel of your body pressed close to hers, the steady rise and fall of your chest beneath her. She could tell you were awake – your fingers were drawing random patterns on her ribs, the feeling making her tingle and goosebumps rise up on her skin.

Her head was nestled against your collarbone, a spot that had become so familiar and comforting over time. With each breath she took, she could feel the warmth of your skin against her cheek, and as she exhaled, her breath fanned out gently against your neck. The closeness between you was palpable, a kind of intimacy that came not just from physical proximity but from the deep bond you shared. Your legs were tangled together in a way that made it impossible to tell where you ended and she began, your bodies seamlessly intertwined in a comfortable heap of limbs.

Ona marvelled at how natural it felt to wake up like this, how your limbs, no matter how intertwined, seemed to fit perfectly together, as if they were meant to be like this. Her arm was draped over your torso, her hand gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.

She knew you knew she was awake. The subtle shift in your breathing, the gentle tightening of your arm around her, and the way your hand began to drift slowly down her body were all telltale signs. You were playing a familiar game, one that she loved more than she could ever put into words. Your hand moved with an unhurried, maddening rhythm, fingers brushing over her skin with just the right amount of pressure, lingering in places that made her breath catch. It was a slow, deliberate dance of touch and sensation, designed to tease and heighten her awareness of every inch of her body that you explored.

Ona felt a shiver run down her spine as your hand traced the curve of her waist, sliding down the dip of her lower back before gliding back up again, repeating the motion with a rhythm that was both soothing and intoxicating. Each pass of your hand over her skin sent ripples of anticipation through her, stirring a heat that built with each gentle caress. The sensation was enough to make her want more, to crave the touch of your hand moving lower, pressing harder, but you kept the pace slow, drawing out the moment, savouring her reaction.

She couldn't help but shift her hips, instinctively seeking more contact, more friction, as your hand continued its torturous path. The slight movement brought her body closer to yours, pressing her body against yours in a way that her toes curl. Your thigh, firm and strong, pressed against her clit as she shifted, creating a pressure that was nothing short of heavenly. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, making her gasp softly against your neck.

The pressure of your thigh against her was perfect – just enough to tease, to keep her on the edge, while leaving her yearning for more. She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, the tension building with each subtle shift of her hips. It was a delicious kind of torture, the kind that made her want to lose herself in the sensation, to let go of everything except the feeling of you against her. The maddening rhythm of your touch and the pressure of your thigh were driving her to the brink, her body responding with an urgency she could barely contain.

You smiled slyly at her movements, a knowing glint in your eyes as you watched her. The subtle shifts in her body, the way she shifted her hips and pressed closer to you, were all part of a carefully orchestrated plan that you were fully aware of. Last night, when Ona had sat down on the bench in front of you, wearing your favourite blue thong of hers, you had known exactly what she was up to. The thong, with its daring cut and dark colour, had been a deliberate choice – a bold statement that spoke volumes about her intentions.

From the moment she had switched on the slower, more sensual music as she began to get ready, you had recognised the cues. The music set a mood that was unmistakable, a deliberate contrast to the usual upbeat tunes that accompanied her preparations. The soft, seductive melodies had been a clear signal of her plans, an invitation to indulge in a night of intimacy and connection. You could practically feel the rhythm of the music syncing with your own heartbeat, heightening the anticipation for what was to come.

As you had felt Ona climb into bed beside you later that night, her short, tight top still hugging her body and her underwear on full display, it was evident that she was playing a game, and you were more than willing to play along. The sight of her dressed like that, with every curve and contour accentuated, had been a delicious tease. Her presence beside you, her warmth pressing against you, was an enticing mix of sensuality and closeness, perfectly aligning with the plan you knew she had in mind.

If she wanted to put on a show, to tease and tantalise, you were more than happy to let her. You were fully aware of her intentions, and rather than resisting or interrupting, you found yourself enjoying the dance she was performing. Her subtle hints, her knowing smiles, and the way she moved with purpose and grace were all part of a game you both enjoyed – a way to deepen your connection and explore each other's desires.

The way she looked at you, the way she deliberately brushed against you, was all part of the seductive choreography that had begun the moment she had started getting ready. If she wanted to turn up the heat, to push boundaries, or to indulge in promises that had been simmering all night, you were more than ready to let her. After all, it was a game you both enjoyed.

Just as she was about to tip over the edge, her body trembling with anticipation, you suddenly and roughly squeezed the flesh of her arse, halting her movements entirely. The unexpected pressure jolted her, causing a sharp intake of breath and an involuntary gasp that escaped her lips. The sensation was a mix of surprise and intense pleasure, the sudden, firm grip on her body sending waves of heightened sensitivity through her.

She let out a soft, frustrated whimper, her voice laden with a mix of irritation and desperation. “Wh-no, bellesa meva,” she whined pitifully, her words barely coherent in the throes of her near-release. The endearment rolled off her tongue in a blend of longing and annoyance, a testament to the frustration she felt at being so tantalisingly close yet abruptly denied. Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours with a pleading gaze, the heat in her expression both intense and vulnerable.

Her hips were still, frozen in the position you had left them, her body quivering slightly from the lingering intensity of the interrupted pleasure. The flush on her cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her chest only underscored her agitation. She wanted to reach the peak, to feel the release she had been so close to achieving, but the sudden stop had left her hanging in a state of frustrated anticipation.

With a soft, almost desperate pout, she looked up at you, her voice catching slightly as she continued to whine. “I was so close,” she murmured, her tone a mixture of pleading and exasperation.

The way she looked at you, her eyes searching yours with an almost desperate hope, made it clear how much she had been invested in the experience. She had savoured the build-up, every touch, every movement that had led her to the brink, only to be pulled back just before she could reach the climax she had been yearning for. Her pout was an expression of the frustration that came from being tantalisingly close to release but abruptly denied, a stark contrast to the playful teasing that had marked the rest of the evening.

“Trust me, bubba, I am well aware of just how close you were,” you teased, a smirk playing on your lips as you tightened your grip once more. The firmness of your touch was both punishing and invigorating, accentuating the delicious tension that had been building between you. You knew precisely what you were doing, prolonging the game in a way that made her squirm with both anticipation and a hint of impatience.

“But you put on such a show last night,” you continued, your tone carrying a playful edge that was both affectionate and slightly mocking. You pouted theatrically, the gesture adding to the teasing atmosphere. “Did you really think I would let all your hard efforts go to waste?” The question was rhetorical, meant to underscore the fact that her deliberate display and the care she had taken to set the scene were not going to be disregarded so easily.

“You wanted me to watch you,” you said, your voice softening slightly as you looked into her eyes, the teasing edge giving way to a more tender undertone. “You wanted me to see you, to appreciate all the effort you put into this.” Your words were turning Ona on even more – she could feel herself get wetter by the second. The fabric of her underwear clung uncomfortably to her, damp and sticky, exacerbating the sensation of need and anticipation. Each slight movement caused the fabric to rub against her sensitive skin, intensifying the feeling of pressure and desire.

Your gaze remained steady, your eyes locked onto hers with a look that was both commanding and affectionate. The way you spoke, acknowledging the care she had taken in preparing for the evening and recognising her desire for you to witness it all, made her pulse quicken. She felt a delicious mix of embarrassment and thrill, knowing that her efforts were having the exact effect she had hoped for.

“So, Ona,” you continued, your voice now carrying a more provocative tone, “why don’t you put on a little show?” The challenge in your voice was unmistakable, the eyebrow you raised adding an extra layer of daring to your request. The playful, almost mischievous glint in your eyes dared her to fulfil your demand, to turn the moment into something even more exhilarating.

The invitation was clear: you wanted her to perform, to take the teasing you had started and turn it into an act of intimate exhibitionism. The thought of putting on a show for you, of turning the tables and making the night revolve around her display of desire, sent a thrill through Ona. Her mind raced with the possibilities, her body aching for the opportunity to respond to your challenge. She could feel the heat rising within her, the urgency of her arousal demanding release.

Ona didn’t like to back down from challenges. She was fearless on the pitch and just as brave off it. She thrived on pushing boundaries and embracing opportunities to showcase her strength, both physical and emotional.

With a determined smile curving her lips, Ona began to slowly shift her body, each movement chosen carefully and infused with purpose. Her eyes locked onto yours, a confident glint of mischief and resolve reflected in their depths. The smile on her face was both sultry and resolute, a clear signal that she was ready to rise to the occasion and meet your challenge head-on. You placed your hands on her hips, not guiding but as a silent acknowledgement that you were there, a subtle reminder of who she was doing this for.

She started by shifting her hips with a deliberate, twisting motion, the fabric of her tight top brushing against her skin as she moved. Her body rolled gracefully; every curve accentuated by the dim light that filtered through the room. The anticipation in the air was palpable, creating a charged atmosphere that seemed to hum with expectation. Each subtle shift of her hips, each arch of her back, was designed to captivate and tease, drawing you in and making every moment feel like a tantalising eternity.

As Ona continued her performance, she made sure every gesture was both seductive and purposeful. Her hands roamed over her body, lightly grazing her curves and creating a visual feast that was impossible to ignore. The fabric of her underwear, already damp with her arousal, pressed against her skin with a heightened intensity, making every movement feel electric. The way she arched her back and pushed her chest forward, the way she traced her fingers over her own body, was all part of an intricate dance designed to keep you enthralled.

You let your eyes roam freely, taking in every detail of Ona’s hypnotic performance. The movement of her body, fluid and captivating, drew you in completely. The dim light that bathed her in a soft, golden glow made her skin appear even more luminous, creating a halo effect that heightened the allure of her presence.

Your gaze followed the way her muscles rippled beneath her skin, the gentle movement of her abs and the curve of her waist as she moved. The sight of her body in motion, so perfectly attuned to the rhythm of the moment, made your heart flutter with a mixture of excitement and admiration.

You knew she was amping up the sounds as well. The moans and whines that escaped her lips were like a symphony tailored just for you. Each sound was a delicate note in the melody of her performance, a musical accompaniment that heightened the intensity of the experience. The soft, breathy moans were punctuated by occasional whimpers of frustration and longing, creating a soundtrack that matched the visual spectacle of her body in motion. The sounds were raw and unfiltered, a testament to the pleasure she was experiencing and a seductive invitation for you to share in it.

The combination of her visual allure and orchestra of moans was almost overwhelming. The rhythm of her moans matched the cadence of her movements, creating a seamless connection between sight and sound that left you captivated. Each time she arched her back or pressed her body closer to yours, the accompanying sounds grew more pronounced, a clear indication of how deeply she was immersed in the moment.

But you knew she wouldn’t be able to come from this – no matter how hard she tried, the thing that she so desperately craved would always stay out of reach without your input. The teasing show she was putting on was exquisite, a perfect blend of effort and seduction, but it lacked the final piece of the puzzle that only you could provide.

Her body was a masterpiece in motion, every curve and ripple a testament to her dedication and desire. Yet, as captivating as her performance was, it was clear that the final release she sought remained just beyond her grasp. The pleasure she was experiencing was intense, but it was unfulfilled – a longing that could only be truly satisfied by your touch, your guidance, and your complete engagement.

You waited for as long as you could. Ona’s eyes, filled with a mix of determination and need, continuously sought yours for reassurance and a hint of what you would do next. Her moans and whines, though beautifully melodic, were underscored by a subtle note of frustration, a reminder of the yearning that lingered in every sound she made.

“Si us plau,” she eventually whined, her voice trembling with a blend of desperation and vulnerability. The plea was soft, almost breathless, and it hung in the air between you, a poignant request for the very thing that had been eluding her. The simple words, spoken in a voice that carried the weight of her need, were a powerful testament to the intense longing she felt. The combination of her exquisite performance and her heartfelt plea made it clear that she was at the edge of her limits, her desire reaching a crescendo that demanded a response.

Her eyes locked onto yours with an earnest intensity, seeking not just acknowledgement but also action. The frustration that had tinged her moans was now replaced by a raw, open yearning that could only be addressed by your direct intervention. The sight of her so vulnerable, her body still quivering from the anticipation and effort, was both heart-wrenching and thrilling.

You took in the sight of her, every detail of her arousal and effort etched into your mind. The way her body still moved subtly with each breath, the way her skin glowed with the sheen of exertion and desire, were all compelling reasons to act. Her plea, spoken with such heartfelt longing, was an invitation to complete the intimate connection you had been building.

Without breaking eye contact, you sat up, leaning in so close that your breath mingled with Ona’s, the warmth of it sending a shiver through her. “Please, what?” you teased, your voice a soft whisper that vibrated against her skin.

Her eyes fluttered, a mix of desperation and desire reflecting in their depths. The playful challenge in your voice contrasted sharply with the raw need evident in her gaze. She took a ragged breath, her chest rising and falling with the effort of keeping herself composed under the strain of your teasing.

“Por favor, hazme correrme,” she murmured again, her voice more insistent now, though still trembling with vulnerability. The simple plea carried the weight of her frustration and yearning, a heartfelt request for the final piece of the puzzle that would bring her the satisfaction she so frantically sought. The way she said it, with a mixture of desperation and a soft plea for relief, made it clear just how much she needed you to complete the experience.

“I don’t know if slutty little brats like you deserve to come though, bubba.” Your voice, though soft and teasing, held a firm edge that underscored your control over the situation. The playful challenge in your tone contrasted with the intense longing in Ona’s eyes, creating a dynamic of anticipation and desire that was almost palpable.

Her reaction was immediate; her body tensed, a mixture of frustration and eagerness evident in her posture. The way her breath hitched, the slight tremble of her lips, and the way her eyes widened with a blend of need and playful defiance showed just how much she was affected by your words. She leaned closer, trying to close the gap between you, her movements a silent plea for the release she was craving.

“He sido buena. He sido buena para ti,” Ona stuttered, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and a trace of defiance. The earnestness in her tone, coupled with the intensity of her gaze, highlighted Her plea was not just about the physical satisfaction she sought, but also about the emotional validation of being acknowledged and rewarded for her efforts.

She shifted slightly, her body pressing closer to yours, as if trying to bridge the final gap between your teasing and her ultimate fulfilment. Her movements were slow but deliberate, each gesture an attempt to demonstrate just how much she had been trying to meet your challenge.

You met her halfway, pulling her down into a kiss that was anything but gentle – a filthy, messy kiss that conveyed just how turned on you were by her little performance. The kiss was intense, filled with a raw passion that left no room for subtlety. Your lips moved against hers with a fervent energy, a dance of dominance and submission that mirrored the tension of the moment. The taste of her, the way her breath mingled with yours, and the way she responded with equal fervour, all combined to create a moment that was absolutely electrifying

“Hmmm,” you murmured against her lips, deliberately drawing out the anticipation. Your voice was a mix of mock contemplation and teasing affection. “I suppose you have been a muy buena niña for me, doing exactly as I said, putting on a fantastic show … just for me.” The words were spoken with a playful tone, though the underlying sincerity of your acknowledgement was clear. Ona felt a wash of calm flood over her, your words easing her fears.

“Just for you. Sólo para ti,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice a soft, eager echo of your words. The way she repeated the phrase, her eyes locked onto yours with so much love, made it clear how much she craved moments like this – the push and pull of your relationship made her head dizzy sometimes. The sincerity in her voice and the look in her eyes spoke volumes about her dedication and her desire to please you.

“Only for me? How kind of you, Oni,” you mocked gently, your tone a playful blend of admiration and teasing. The mockery was light-hearted, designed to keep the mood playful. You raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “I suppose I could let you come.” Your words, though teasing, carried a promise that hung heavily in the air. The decision to grant her the release she had been craving was now in your hands

In one swift movement, you had Ona lying on her back, her hair splayed out on the pillows, creating a halo of dark waves around her. Her chest rose and fell with each breath.

The room was filled with the soft rustling of sheets and the muffled sounds of her breaths, creating a backdrop of intimate noise that only heightened the tension.

You positioned yourself above her, your gaze unwavering as you took in the sight of her beneath you. Her eyes were wide and full of yearning, a mixture of vulnerability and unspoken desire. The way she looked up at you, her body slightly trembling with anticipation, added to the sense of charged expectation that filled the space between you.

Your hands moved with deliberate intention, tracing a path from her shoulders down to her hips, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin beneath your touch. Each movement was purposeful, a way to both explore and command, to reinforce the power dynamic that had been building throughout the night. Your fingers lingered just long enough to make her shiver, creating a teasing contrast to the more direct pressure you were about to apply.

“Remember,” you murmured, your voice low and intimate, “you’ve earned this. You’ve been so good, putting on that incredible show just for me.”

You let your hands glide further, exploring the contours of her body with a mix of tenderness and assertiveness, placing kisses as you went. Your touch was both comforting and electrifying, a blend of affection and authority that added to the intensity of the moment. The way she responded, the soft moans that escaped her lips and the way her body arched towards your touch, made it clear just how much she was craving the final resolution.

Finally, you reached where Ona wanted you most. The anticipation in the room was palpable as your fingers traced along the waistband of her thong. With a playful snap, you pulled the band gently against her hip, creating a slight, teasing sting that made her gasp. You couldn’t help but smile ruefully, your satisfaction evident as you watched her reaction.

“I like this,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of appreciation. You pressed a tender kiss to her hipbone, the warmth of your lips sending a shiver through her. The gesture was both intimate and affectionate

Her response was immediate, her eyes fluttering closed as she treasured the touch. “Gracias,” she murmured breathlessly, her voice carrying a note of pride and affection. “I bought it with you in mind.” The knowledge that she had chosen this particular piece of lingerie specifically for you, with the intention of enhancing your experience, made your heart skip a beat.

You looked up at her, your gaze meeting hers with a mixture of admiration and desire. The room seemed to shrink around you, the rest of the world fading away as you focused purely on the woman in front of you. Her body responded to your touch, her hips shifting slightly as if instinctively seeking more contact. The heat radiating from her skin was undeniable, a warm, inviting glow that contrasted sharply with the cool air of the room. The softness of her body beneath your fingers was a luxurious sensation, each caress sending ripples of pleasure through her.

You left a trail of kisses down the inside of her thigh, each touch deliberate and gentle, tracing a path of increasing anticipation. Her breath quickened with each kiss, a soft, rhythmic intake of air that was both a response to your touch and a testament to her mounting desire.

Slowly and deliberately, you peeled the damp fabric of the thong away from her, your movements careful and measured. Holding the delicate garment in one hand, you bunched it out of the way, your attention now fully on her exposed skin. With a tender, teasing touch, you settled yourself comfortably, one leg on either side of her shoulders, positioning yourself to offer her the most intimate kind of attention.

You blew gently on her clit, the unexpected coldness of your breath causing her body to react instinctively. Her muscles tensed, and she let out a sharp gasp, a sudden intake of breath that was both surprised and aroused. The delicate shock of the cold air made her entire body quiver, her hips twitching in response to the sensation.

As the initial shock of the cool air faded, Ona’s gasp morphed into a low, throaty moan. When you finally made contact, it was with the softest of kisses, a tender, deliberate press of your lips right where she had been craving. She arched her back, her hand flying down to grab at your head, her fingers instantly taking root in your hair.

With the kiss as a prelude, you began to lick up her sex, your tongue exploring her with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each lick was thorough and purposeful, your movements designed to maximise her pleasure. The softness of your tongue against her sensitive skin, combined with the lingering taste of her arousal, was an indulgent experience that intensified her moans. You traced each contour of her sex with your tongue, cherishing the way she responded to each stroke.

Her reactions were a continuous stream of pleasure; her breathing became ragged, her sounds a mix of soft whimpers and deep, satisfied moans. The way her body responded to your touch – her hips thrusting slightly, her legs trembling, and her head tilting back – was a testament to the pleasure you were giving her. The combination of the gentle kiss, the exploratory licks, and the way you maintained a steady rhythm created a symphony of sensations that drew her ever closer to the edge.

You knew Ona was close; after a night filled with teasing and edging, anyone would be on the brink of release. But as you slipped your finger inside her, you quickly discovered just how near she was to the edge. You effortlessly found that spot deep within her that elicited such a powerful reaction. The instant you touched it, her reaction was immediate and intense. Her eyes screwed shut, her entire body tensing as if a jolt of electricity had passed through her. Her toes curled tightly, her legs quivering with the force of the pleasure that was surging through her.

The sensation of finding that sensitive area was gratifying. Each subtle movement of your finger, each gentle pressure, elicited a series of responses from her – sharp intakes of breath, soft moans, and the way her hips instinctively pressed against your hand. You could feel her body reacting almost rhythmically to your touch, each spasm a testament to the pleasure you were giving her.

You adjusted the angle of your finger slightly, applying just the right amount of pressure and movement to maximise her pleasure. The rhythm of your touch became a steady, deliberate dance, designed to push her further and closer to the precipice.

Her moans grew more urgent, the sound a mix of need and impending climax. The way her body arched and shifted in response to your touch indicated that she was teetering on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure you had meticulously prepared her for.

You could sense the exact moment when her control began to slip, when the dam you had carefully built up was on the verge of breaking. Her breathing became erratic, her body trembling with a combination of pleasure and exertion.

“Voy a... Estoy... mierda” she cried, her voice a mixture of desperation and ecstasy. The pleasure she was experiencing was now all-consuming, her entire focus narrowed to the sensations you were evoking. With each movement, each touch, you were guiding her to a powerful, fulfilling climax.

Ona came with a shout - raw and primal. Her body jerking and twitching as pleasure coursed through her veins. It felt as though she was on fire, her skin radiating an almost feverish heat as the intensity of her orgasm spread through her entire being.

The sheer force of her release caused her hips to buck uncontrollably against your hand, her breathing coming in ragged, uneven gasps. Her moans were punctuated by sharp cries, each sound a vivid indication of the depth of her pleasure. Her fingers tugged harshly at your hair.

As the climax took hold, her body arched beautifully, her back curving in a graceful line as she succumbed to the pleasure. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face contorted in a mask of bliss and concentration. The muscles in her legs and abdomen twitched and spasmed in time with the waves of pleasure that surged through her, making it clear just how intense the experience was for her.

You worked her through it gently, maintaining a steady rhythm as she rode out the peak of her orgasm. Your touch was both deliberate and tender, ensuring that the pleasure remained intense but not overwhelming. Each caress and stroke was designed to prolong her satisfaction, to help her enjoy every last moment of the euphoria that had taken over her senses.

The room seemed to echo with the sounds of her pleasure – the rhythmic gasps, the soft whimpers of aftershocks, and the occasional, breathless cries. As the climax began to ebb, her movements gradually slowed, her body relaxing into a state of deep contentment. Her breathing, still ragged, started to return to a more regular pattern, the intensity of her release giving way to a blissful, tranquil aftermath.

“Merda santa,” she gasped, the words escaping her in a breathless rush. Her body continued to tremble as the last waves of her orgasm rippled through her. Her voice, though still tinged with awe and satisfaction, was now softer, a lingering whisper of the intensity she had just experienced.

Her eyes fluttered open, the heat of her climax still evident in the flushed cheeks and the slight sheen of sweat on her skin. You shifted, kissing your way back up her body until you were face to face again. You smiled down at her, your eyes scanning her flushed face, taking in the way her lips were slightly parted and the glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes

“Well, that was fun,” you teased, the playful note in your voice contrasting with the tenderness of your touch. Your smile was a mix of gratification and affection, a reflection of the pleasure you had both shared. You brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering gently on her skin.

Her lips curved into a soft, exhausted smile, the kind that spoke of complete contentment. “You could say that,” she murmured, her voice still carrying the remnants of her earlier intensity. There was a warm glow in her eyes, a look of deep happiness that mirrored your own feelings.

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “You are so beautiful. That was incredible,” you said softly, your tone sincere as you lay down beside her, pulling her into your chest.

She responded with a contented sigh, her body relaxing further into the pillows. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she whispered, her eyes closing as she let herself fully unwind.

You continued to hold her, your touch gentle and reassuring. The aftermath of her climax had left both of you in a state of serene satisfaction, the bond between you strengthened by the intimacy of the experience. The room was quiet, the only sounds being the soft rustle of the sheets and the steady rhythm of your breaths.

As she began to settle, her breathing slowing to a steady, peaceful rhythm, you took a moment to simply enjoy the closeness you shared. ““T'estimo molt,” she whispered, her voice a soft murmur of affection as she nestled closer into your embrace.

“Yo también te amo mucho,” you replied, your tone equally tender,

You could feel her heartbeat gradually slowing, syncing with yours in a soothing rhythm that spoke of complete trust and contentment. Her body was relaxed against yours, her warmth a comforting presence as she let go of the lingering tension from the night.

You gently brushed your fingers through her hair, your touch both soothing and affectionate. The intimate atmosphere of the room, now filled with a serene quiet, was a stark contrast to the passionate intensity that had preceded it. The gentle hum of the world outside seemed distant, and in this cocoon of closeness, it felt as though time had slowed down just for the two of you.

Every so often, she would shift slightly, her movements subtle but full of unspoken communication. The soft sighs that escaped her lips and the way her fingers occasionally traced gentle patterns on your skin were a testament to her lingering satisfaction and the depth of your bond.

You let your fingers graze her back, your touch light and tender, reinforcing the sense of intimacy and connection between you. As the moments passed, you took in the peacefulness of her expression, the way her features had softened into a serene smile.

You could the moment she finally fell asleep, her breath evened out. The gentle rise and fall of her chest against yours was a soothing, rhythmic lullaby, a comforting reminder of the bond you shared.

Her body relaxed completely, her muscles softening as the tension from the night melted away. Her head nestled more deeply into the crook of your shoulder, and her fingers, which had been lightly tracing patterns on your skin, came to a still, relaxed rest.

“I am going to marry you one day,” you whispered into her skin, the quiet confession escaping your lips as a gentle promise. Your words were barely audible, a tender declaration meant only for her ears, a gently promise to the universe of you love for the woman sleeping in your arms.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3

[its-avalon-08]

Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me any driver but this vibe!

the alchemy (mv1)

✦ pairing - max verstappen x female!reader

✦ genre - just plain ol'fluff

The roar of the crowd at Yas Marina Circuit was deafening. Max Verstappen, helmet still on, emerged from his Red Bull, a champion for the first time. Relief, exhaustion, and pure, unadulterated joy warred on his face. He bypassed the waiting media scrum, his eyes scanning the jubilant throngs of orange. There, amidst the sea of ecstatic fans, stood Y/N, his rock, his sunshine.

where's the trophy?

"Max! Max! Max!" David Croft's voice boomed over the international broadcast. "He's forgoing the initial interview! Looks like the celebrations are starting a little early!"

he just comes running over to me

Max sprinted towards her, a wide grin splitting his face. He reached her, engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug, and spun her around like a jubilant ballerina. Y/N, tears welling in her eyes, clung to him, her laughter echoing in the cacophony.

He finally stopped, cupping her face, his blue eyes shimmering with emotion. "We did it, Y/N! We fucking did it!"

"We did, Max," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You were incredible out there!"

Max pulled her in again, burying his face in her hair. The roar of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as he whispered, "I couldn't have done it without you. You believed in me when I doubted myself, pushed me when I wanted to quit, and loved me even when I was a grumpy mess after a bad race."

Y/N tilted her head up, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "Hey, that's part of the package, Champion," she teased. "But seriously, Max, I'm so incredibly proud of you. You've worked so hard for this moment."

Max gazed at her, his eyes filled with adoration. "You mean everything to me, Y/N. You're my best friend, my confidante, my biggest supporter. This championship, it's ours."

Croft's voice cut back in, tinged with amusement. "And there you have it, folks! Max Verstappen with a very emotional message for his girlfriend, Y/N. It seems the celebrations are truly personal tonight!"

Max chuckled, brushing a stray tear from Y/N's cheek. "Come on," he said, taking her hand. "Let's celebrate with the team. They deserve this as much as we do."

He led her through the throngs of ecstatic Red Bull personnel, who whooped and cheered, showering them with confetti and champagne. Y/N, her arm linked with Max's, felt a surge of pure happiness. This championship wasn't just his; it was a testament to the unwavering support of a team, a family, and the love of a remarkable woman. As they joined the celebrations, Y/N knew this was just the beginning of their incredible journey together.

max's pov

The champagne shower was a glorious, stinging euphoria. Confetti rained down, a kaleidoscope of orange and white mirroring the elation that bubbled in my chest. The podium lights felt unnaturally bright, but the cheers of the crowd were a warm, intoxicating wave. I was a champion. Formula One World Champion.

But amidst the cacophony, my vision cut through the noise, drawn to the familiar splash of sunshine yellow in the crowd. Y/N. There she was, a beacon amidst the sea of orange. Her hair, usually pulled back in a practical braid, cascaded down her shoulders in the humid Abu Dhabi night, windblown and free. Her face, usually reserved and composed when I was in the car, was a mask of pure, unadulterated joy. Tears welled in her eyes, sparkling like tiny diamonds under the floodlights.

Time seemed to slow. The roar of the crowd faded, replaced by the frantic pounding of my heart. A wide grin stretched across my face, mirroring the one I knew was mirrored on hers. We locked eyes for a fleeting moment, an unspoken conversation passing between us. Her lips moved, forming the words that had echoed in my head all season, the fuel that had propelled me through every grueling race, every nerve-wracking qualifying session.

"I love you."

The sound didn't reach me, drowned out by the cheers, but I knew. I knew with a certainty that transcended words. It was in the glistening tears, the trembling smile, the way her entire being radiated pure, unadulterated pride. This wasn't just my victory. It was ours.

As Christian Horner sprayed me with champagne, the sting a welcome reminder of the moment, my gaze never left her. She was my rock, my anchor, the sunshine that chased away the storm clouds of doubt. This championship trophy, held aloft in my numb fingers, was as much hers as it was mine. It was a symbol of our journey, a testament to the unwavering support that had carried me across the finish line.

The podium celebrations blurred into a whirlwind of handshakes, interviews, and backslaps. But through it all, her image remained etched in my mind, a beacon of love and pride. And when I finally found myself back at the team motorhome, the echoes of the celebration fading, I knew exactly where I needed to be. With her.

[imthebadguyyy]

Silverstone

pairing : lewis hamilton x reader

fandom : formula 1

synopsis : you celebrate lewis' win, and show him just how proud of him you are.

warnings : smut and references to 2021

a/n : CANT STOP CRYING BECAUSE LEWIS JUST WON SILVERSTONE SO HERE'S SOME FLUFFY GOODNESS with a side of smut 🙈

the sun shone brightly overhead as lewis soared past the chequered flag, and you screamed and jumped up and down in the mercedes garage.

the roar of the crowd was deafening in the best way possible, screams, shouts whoops and laughter filling the air as he soared by, fist pumped in victory as he let out a whoop himself. you couldn't help but sob into your hands as he waved the flag around in sheer joy, tears streaming down your face, watery laughs and cheers leaving your lips as you stuck to his dad, both of you feeling the same exhilaration that you were sure lewis was feeling too.

bono grabbed you blindly, running with you to parc ferme so you could both be there when lewis stepped out of his car. you couldn't help but sob harder as you saw him wipe away tears, shaking his head as the intensity of emotions sink into him.

you watched with a full heart and shaking hands as he walked to his dad, leaning into him as he allowed himself to cry, to really feel the depth of the moment. you cried, hands shaking against your mouth as you watched him, grinning widely as he turned to you, grabbing your waist as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, wet tears soaking your skin as you held him tight, arms wound around his neck as you squeezed him tight, a melody of "im so proud of you my love" poured into his ears from your sweet voice.

"im so so proud of you, you did so well baby!" you cried pulling away from the embrace to kiss his forehead, laughing as he scooped you up to spin you around. tears streamed freely down his face as he set you down, stroking your cheekbone, breathing harshly as he gripped you tight.

he pulled you back to him, bodies pressed against each other, not caring about the flashing cameras, saying loudly, "i love you!", before dipping you down to kiss you, hands gripping your hips.

his lips met yours in a fiercely passionate kiss, stained with tears of devotion and the three of hope you had both invested into him, into his pursuit of a win, and now he had finally done it with you by his side, at his home race.

it was a kiss that spoke of triumph and longing, of battles fought and won. your embrace was tight, your bodies pressed close as if trying to merge your shared exhilaration. the world around you blurred, and all that existed was the sheer happiness you felt at that very moment.

you gripped his wrist as he pulled away, getting ready to head to the podium, pressing a fleeting kiss to his pulse points as he mouthed "I love you" at you, walking away to prepare to take his rightful place on the podium.

you stood with anthony as you both looked up at your champion, a smile so wide your cheeks were starting to hurt. you cheered loudly, clapping and jumping when he was presented with the trophy, raising it up to the air and pointing to his team and bono, and then to you and his dad, a wide smile and teary eyes looking down at you.

anthony filmed you with a wide grin, before wrapping and arm around your shoulders as the anthem played and lewis' eyes filled with tears. "thats how much it means to him,huh?" you murmured, as you sniffled.

on your other side, susie wrapped you in a hug, nodding against you as you sunk into her embrace. "thats what it means" she said, her own voice breaking as she looked at you, melting at the devotion and adoration in your eyes as you looked up at lewis.

when the champagne was popped, lewis ran over to the edge, tipping some bubbly in your direction as you laughed, giggling as he blew you a kiss and you blew one back.

as the ceremony came to an end, you made your way back to the hospitality, shaking champagne out of your hair as members from the team came up to hug you. the atmosphere was joyous as the crowd sang and celebrated, and you took out your phone to capture the incredible atmosphere. carmen came over to congratulate you, giving you a tight hug before going to find george.

you went to sit down, still feeling from the emotional high as you took a big gulp of cold water. you knew how hard lewis had worked for this, all the highs and lows he had experienced on this long path. you knew of all the long nights he spent at the factory and in the sim, all the hard days and the bad days, all the nights he had come to you, weary and longing for your warmth.

all the moments he felt like he wasn't worth the trouble, and you reminded him fiercely of your love and how it didn't depend on his ability to race. all the nights you felt the despair he felt, tears and hugs keeping you from falling apart as he told you he felt he shouldn't stay on.

the desperate heartbreak you had felt in 2021 when he looked so defeated your own knees almost buckled, all the love it had taken to bring your lewis back to you.

it was all worth it in the moment. it was all worth it. it was all worth it. it was all worth it-

the recurring chain of thought was cut off by a warm pair of arms wrapping around your shoulders, and the smell of champagne filling your nostrils.

"lewis" you breathed, as he gently tugged you with him to his driver's room.

"im so proud of you, honey" you whispered, letting him sink into the couch, as you sat down in his lap, legs on either side of his waist as you pressed kisses to his nose and his cheeks and his forehead and temples, and finally his lips.

"thank you" he whispered back, head resting on your collarbone as he took deep breaths, steadying his racing heartbeat.

you could feel fresh tears soaking your skin as he clung to you, and you stroked his head gently, letting him take his time.

as he pulled back slightly, you saw the tears welling in his eyes. "it was all worth it," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "every challenge, every setback, every victory—it was all worth it."

"formula one is a part of my blood," he continued, his voice steadying as he spoke. "i understand that now more than ever. this sport, this life—it's who I am."

he paused, his eyes searching yours, filled with gratitude and love. "i wouldn't have made it here without you. you've been with me through it all, through the highs and the lows. i can't thank you enough for staying by my side." he continued stroking your chin as you smiled at him.

tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to touch his cheek, your heart swelling with pride and love for the man who had just made history. "im so proud of you, lewis," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "and I'll always be here, no matter what." you promised, pressing a kiss to his hand.

soon enough, your little bubble was broken when the door opened and his family filed in, his mum reaching for you to give you a tight hug and soon all of you and his entire family were heading for an early light dinner before what was a 100% going to be a wild night of partying.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

after an early dinner of pizza with his family, you had just about time for a quick shower and a change of clothes, feeling a giddy happiness you had sorely missed throbbing through your bones as you watched lewis step in for his own shower.

lando had sent a text to lewis, saying "club to get absolutely hammered (non alcoholically for you) on me" and you had laughed and made your way to your hotel to get dressed.

you changed into a particularly rivetingly sexy little dress you had bought especially for a moment like this, a body hugging little number that hugged every curve and fold on your body with straps all over. you paired it with your favourite perfume, painting your lips a dark cherry red, a colour you knew lewis loved on you. you added seductive black eyeliner and mascara, a rosy blush and a glittery highlight, and darkened your eyes with kajal. you looked every bit the temptress you felt and you knew you would be having the time of your life with lewis later in the night.

lewis got ready himself, dressing himself in a black tank and dark pants, pairing it with his favourite bracelets and necklaces to glitter softly. he looked ethereal himself, every bit a charming champion and you couldn't help the flutter of arousal you felt in your chest.

you smirked to yourself as lewis leaned against the cupboard, watching you spritz yourself with perfume, before stalking over to you to bite into the flesh of your neck.

the sudden contact had you gasping and shuddering as you tilted your head back, letting him suck on the skin till it bruised. he pulled away with a satisfied grin, before pulling you to your feet and sinking down on his knees.

you shuddered as he gently raised your foot, kissing you ankle before sliding your strappy heels onto your foot, kissing your shin and calves before moving to the other.

the act of sheer devotion had you melting even more for him, and you could feel yourself getting wet for the gorgeous hunk of a man before you. you shrieked when he suddenly kissed your thighs and licked up them, yanking your lacy panties to the side to lick a stripe into your pussy, making you moan loudly before he pulled away, smirking.

"later, baby" he promised, walking out the door, leaving you a panting mess.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the famous nightclub the guys had chosen pulsed with powerful beats as a sea of bodies moved in perfect harmony to the sultry rhythms on the dance floor, illuminated by vibrant electric blue and crimson lights. the atmosphere buzzed with an intoxicating blend of pounding music, exuberant laughter, and the mingling aromas of premium tequila, fruity cocktails, rich whiskeys, and hoppy beers. you cheered in excitement as the dj began to play usher, as you shouted over the noise, "I'm going to order some shots!" before weaving your way through the crowd to the bustling bar.

lewis watched you walk away, going to find charles and lando in the crowd, who were mingling with other friends.

he watched you lean over the bar, your breasts pushing against the material of your dress, bent at the waist as you ordered a Washington apple shot, giggling with lily, alex's girlfriend as you clinked a glass with her.

he felt his mouth go dry when you licked the apple slice in the shot, sucking it dry before downing the shot in one go, neck tilting back, all exposed for him. he licked his lips, feeling the groin region of his pants become uncomfortably tight. he made his way over to you, the thumping beat of usher's 'yeah' filling his eardrums.

thick arms wrapped around your waist, and the bristle of a familiar beard warmed your neck as lewis wrapped himself around you, pressing soft kisses to your skin as you giggled and swayed against him. earned it by the weeknd began to play in the background and your smirked.

you let your head droop onto his shoulder, walking backwards with him onto the dance floor, hands wrapped around his own thick arms as you softly ground your hips into him, wining your ass against his gardening cock.

you sang the words, letting your hands slide down to his chest to feel the hard outline of his pecs, eyes narrowed sultrily as you swayed against him. his eyes were a jet black as he took in your movements, one hand sliding down to grip your hips and squeeze.

"I need you to take me back to the hotel, lew" you moaned, as he ground up into you. your words had him growling softly, dragging you out of the club to his car, ignoring the hoots and hollers from the younger drivers.

the car ride back was charged and electric as you made our hungrily, teeth and tongues clashing as you both moaned lewdly enough for the driver to hear.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

in the hotel, you could hardly wait till you reached your room, and almost immediately, clothes were tossed in all corners of the room, and you were sinking to you knees on the soft carpet as lewis sank into the bed

"you did so well today baby, fighting to the win? getting what you really deserve?that's some pretty badass driving, and it was really fucking sexy to watch as well" you mumbled against his lips, feeling him smirk against yours as you did."you did so well, i think you deserve a reward. after everything you've fought through, you came out on top like the champion you are" you continued, walking backwards onto the bed, reaching up to caress his collarbone, leaning down to suck on the skin of his neck, gently running your hands down to his underwear, tracing his waist, gently squeezing the hardened muscle, fingers tracing his abs feeling him harden against you.

you pulled your hair into a ponytail, hands gently trailing down his stomach, feeling the goosebumps break out on his body, watching as you sunk down to your knees again, crawling forward, swaying your ass seductively behind you, and you felt his cock get visibly harder.

"you deserve to fuck my mouth. my winner" you whispered softly,running your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles clench as you did. nodding his approval to you, he cleared his throat, hand gently squeezing your shoulder.

lewis watched you lick your lips as you unbuttoned and unzipped, pulling down his pants and boxers until his hard dick bounced free, almost smacking against you. you looked up at him as you wet your lips.

"im going to give you the sloppiest blowjob ever" you grinned, glancing up at him before kissing his tip. "all for my 104 time race winner" you continued.

he smiled as he watched you grin, before opening your mouth wide and taking his cock on your waiting tongue. you licked and sucked on just the tip as you teased his balls and drew circles into his calf.

lewis knew he would have the time of his life. his one (of many about you) weakness was the feel of your mouth on his dick, and he bit back a gulp as he saw the lust in your eyes. eyes as you eased him deeper, inch by inch.

"fuck," he whispered softly, watching you start sucking, laving your tongue against him. his chest heaved as he groaned quietly, letting you ease your lips back to the tip before taking him again. he watched the way your cheek bulged with a twinge of pride.

he hit the back of your throat, feeling the sensation through his entire body, and he reached for the back of your head with both his big hands, holding you in place while you sucked on him.

you sucked and licked him with your mouth, the friction a delicious heat as you went faster with each stroke.

you moaned around him and lewis jerked himself deep inside until he was hitting the back of your throat again, making you choke a little.

"you're my everything" he grunted as you grabbed his hips with both hands and bobbrf your head, taking a little more of him with each stroke. the wet, lewd sounds as you hollowed your cheeks and took him had him bucking into your mouth

lewis ground his hips into you, hand pushing you onto his dick. you moaned and gagged s as you sucked on him

lewis felt the rising torrent in his body as he threw his head back.  he watched you open your mouth wide and take him inside, licking the underside of his cock and drooling all over his length.

the motion was enough to make him burst into your mouth, making you gasp as his cum filled your mouth. your mouth didn't relent, sucking harder as he cried out, cumming more as you swallowed all of him.

he dragged you swiftly up from the floor, pushing you on your back into the bed, lifting your dress, he bunched the material up so it rested on your waist; your ass that you were waving at him prior was on display. lewis' lips found your straining nipples as he licked them, sucking and biting till they were dripping in saliva and he had you whining and twisting above him, one hand pinching the nipple he wasn't able to suck, alternating.

he continued to suck as moved your panties to the side, stroking up your thighs, before bending down and softly licking at your pussy, making you moan.

“fuck, you're so wet. how long have you been like this?” he asked, licking your clit.

you groaned. “since we started getting ready to leave" you moaned, head falling against the pillow as his tongue shoved into your weeping hole, tasting your juices. "please…" you moaned as his finger rubbed your clit in slow circles, just the way you liked it, and you moaned loudly, biting your lip and shutting your eyes.

his fingers moved to your hole while his tongue turned to your clit, flicking the bean with his tongue, laving his tongue over it and sucking it in between his lips. his actions had your hips ricocheting off the bed as his nose swiped your pussy and you were bucking into his face with lewd moans as he devoured your pussy like a man starved.

"mm..wanna ride you!" you groaned, and lewis was pulling off your pussy with a wet kiss, rolling you both over so you were on top.

"take a ride love," he opened his arms, welcoming you in as he helped you get on top of him.

once you were situated on his thighs, you grabbed ahold of his cock, lining it up with your pussy before sinking down on him, planting your feet on the mattress to grind back and forth, before slowly transitioning too bouncing on his cock.

your clit was brushed against the small patch of hair on his pubic bone, and the friction felt absolutely amazing.

your hands moved up to his chest, as you began to move your hips. lewis' hands moved to your hips, as his own bucked up making you whimper.

"feel so good, baby. so good” he moaned, and you moaned as his huge dick spread you out. you began to bounce down, faster and harder.

lewis felt euphoric as he watched you move faster, his hands coming up your hair,

he was deep, deep inside you and his dick was hitting that place where you both felt incredibly good. you could feel him all the way up in your stomach.

"you deserve all the wins!" you whined and harry nodded, his mouth forming an O shape. "fuck!" lewis grunted, curls sticking to his forehead.

"i'm gonna cum" he said, gripping your hips and spearing you up and down in his cock, planting his own feet on the mattress as he started fucking up into you.

his hand wrapped around to your ass, smacking the jiggling flesh harshly, the other wrapping around your neck and hips periodically, spanking you and caressing your curves, mouth dipping to your nipples to suck them hard.

the overwhelming sensations had you squealing as you bounced faster, cries and squeals leaving your mouth as your tits bounced wildly and your pussy clenched on his big dick.

"wanna paint your pussy white" he groaned as he pounded your pussy, hips snapping into you like a jack hammer, hammering your sweet spot as you moaned incoherently on top of him.

"cum in my pussy baby" you babbled, nails digging into his chest as he smacked your ass again harshly, making your pussy squeeze. when he reached down and began to violently rub your clit, you came with a scream, your pussy clamping down on his dick like a vice.

the sensation had his stomach fluttering as you gushed over him, crying and groaning as he sucked your nipples, before emptying his load into you with a moan.

he spilled ropes of his cum into you, shuddering against you as he felt you milk his cock. "I love you" you painted, hands clinging to him for support as you went boneless. lewis' broad arms dragged you down on top of him, cock still inside you and twitching, keeping you stuffed full of his cum.

"i adore you and love you so much" lewis said, kissing your forehead as he cuddled into you.

"i love you more. i hope you liked your present" you grinned, giggling when he swiped his fingers in your pussy and licked up your juices.

a night fit for a winner.

your winner.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : i shall go bathe in holy water. enjoy my lovelies! ♥️

TAGS

f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion

general - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AN ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM 🤍