#I had a really good time painting this one

[evnseokz]

☆ anniversary sex with eunseok

pairing: bf! eunseok x less experienced! f. reader

contents: first time (with eachother), p in v, kissing, making out, eating out, finger sucking, cum eating(?), eunseok has more experience than reader, pet names: baby, princess, darling, reader is kind of a pillow princess but only because eunseok makes her be one, cockwarming, and honestly has fluff too!

this is not proofread, sorry if the ending was kind of short i never know how to end these things… (w.c. 1.9k)

you and eunseok moved slowly when it came to intimacy in your relationship, mainly because of you having very little experience. eunseok didn’t want to push you, he never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with and was always more than happy to stop if you were. at this point in time you have been intimate with eunseok before but you two still hadn’t actually had sex. you were nervous you weren’t going to be good enough for him in bed and even with constant reassurance from eunseok that you could never not be good enough, you just weren’t ready. and he didn’t push you further than that.

tonight was different however, it was your official six month anniversary and you really wanted to do something special for your boyfriend. you guys decided to stay in and celebrate your anniversary with a movie and cuddling on the couch. you were cuddled into eunseoks side, his arm draped around your frame. a blanket covering the both of you. eunseok was too entranced in the movie to even notice the way you kept shifting nervously, or the way your heart rate was higher than usual. you kept looking at him, then the screen, then your hands on repeat.

when the movie finally came to an end your nerves picked up even more. eunseok shifted so he could look down at you, he smiled and tucked some hair behind your ear, bringing your face up to meet his at the same time. your eyes widen and you chew on your lip as you look up at him. “what’s the matter baby?” he cocks his head. your mouth runs dry before opening to speak. “um, i was thinking about what i could get you for our anniversary and i-i think im ready.” his brows furrow. “ready for what?” he asks puzzled at your confusing words. you gulp “you…” you look down at your hands again. a light bulb goes off in eunseoks head finally realizing what you mean. a light blush spreads across the apples of his cheeks as he chuckles slightly.

“are you sure y/n? you shouldn’t only do this for me, you should want it too.” he says firmly. you nod your head and flash him a quick smile, “i’m sure”. eunseok wastes no time throwing the blanket off the both of you and gathering you in his arms. carrying you bridle style to your shared bedroom. you cling to your boyfriend giggling slightly as he sets you down on the edge of the bed. he’s standing in front of you. a light blush paints the both of your cheeks as you look at eachother. you both smile before leaning in for a kiss. it starts off slow, his hands on either side of your face, yours on his waist.

the kiss becomes more intense by the second, his tongue swiping your bottom lip begging for entry, which you grant. your tongues fight for dominance and eunseok starts to lay you down on your back, his body following yours. you back up till you hit the pillows at the headboard and eunseok isn’t a beat behind. he breaks the kiss to trail kisses down your neck and onto the exposed part of your chest. quiet moans leave your mouth as his mouth works expertly on your skin. he separates his mouth from your skin for a moment, his finger tips trailing along the hem of your shirt. “can i take this off?” he scans your face for approval. you nod, and he begins to peel your shirt off your body, you sit up a little making it easier for him.

once your shirt is off, eunseok gawks at the sight of your unclothed chest, licking his lips as he takes in every detail of your plump breasts sitting perfectly in your bralette. you hide your face in embarrassment, and eunseok chuckles slightly at you. he peels your hands away from your face and tilts your head to look at him. “nothing to be embarrassed about princess, you’re perfect. how did i get so lucky?” he smiles. your cheeks are flaming hot at this point, eunseok returns to marking up the skin of your exposed breasts, hand reaching around to fiddle with the clasp of your bra. you giggle at the way he’s struggling with it you decided to help him and reach behind yourself to unclasp it. your bra slips from your chest and eunseok doesn’t waste another second, attaching his lips to your nipple, kneading the other breast in his hand. you moan, the sensation being all too much. your hands fly to his head, and you rake your hands through his hair. he groans at the action before pulling away from your chest to free himself from his own shirt.

leaning back on his knees, you admire his toned chest and stomach. taking this opportunity to reach forward and run your hand down his body, you go to reach your hand into the waistband of his pants but he stops you. “ah-ah not yet princess” he shakes his head. “i want this to be all about you tonight”, he caresses your face. he’s obsessed with the way you’re looking up at him, big sparkling eyes, listening to his every word. he leans back over you peppering kisses down your torso before placing a kiss over your clothes heat. you gasp and the light, unexpected pressure. he looks up at you from where he’s at, as if to ask for permission to take your shorts off, you nod granting it. he slides your shorts down, and then comes back to where your underwear lays against your body. he leans down, and grabs the waistband with his teeth, and slowly drags them down your legs, making sure to not break eye contact the entire time. you whine at the action.

once your underwear is off he shoves the garment into his back pocket. and trails kisses on your thighs as he makes his way back up your body. he stops right in front of your heat, and you can feel his breath fanning over it, making you squirm a little. he presses a light kiss to your core, before starting to kitten lick you between your folds. your whole body shudders with please, his movements become more intense by the second and at this point he’s fully making out with your pussy. your hands are pulling at his hair, making him groan into your sweet cunt. your moans get louder and louder as you become closer and closer to cumming. eunseok starts to suck on your clit and that’s what sends you over the edge, hips bucking, and legs shaking. you’re a panting, moaning mess as eunseok helps you ride out your first orgasm of the night. his face separates from your cunt, and you can see your juices smeared around his mouth. your cheeks flush in embarrassment, he takes his thumb wiping up the mess around his lips before taking his thumb into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the digit a few times. you stare at him in awe.

he takes his thumb out his mouth, a string of spit connecting it to his lips. he reaches his other hand out towards you and places it at the base of the back of your neck, before moving you forward, “open your mouth darling” he says sternly. you comply no questions asked, and he places his thumb in your mouth, you close your lips around it on instinct sucking slightly on the digit. “good girl” he coos, arousal still pooling between your legs. he removes his thumb from your mouth before going to unbutton his own pants. pulling them and his underwear down at the same time. his cock sprang free, hitting his stomach. you bit your lip as you stared at his member, tip glistening with pre cum. you’d seen his dick multiple times before yet you still were always amazed at what he was packing underneath his garments.

eunseok reaches into the drawer of the nightstand and grabs a condom, you stop him before he opens it. “i-i started on the pill not too long ago” you say looking up at him through your eyelashes. he drops the condom back in the drawer before coming to hover over your smaller frame. “you’re too good to me baby, you know that?” he kisses your forehead, then your nose, cheeks, and finally your mouth. you giggle as you melt into the kiss. you feel eunseok positioning himself in between your legs, the weight of his cock resting on your heat. the feeling makes you shudder slightly into the kiss. eunseok breaks away to look you in your eyes, “i’m going to put it in now, okay?” he tells you, you nod, chewing on your lip in anticipation and nervousness.

he grabs his cock in his hand, and aligns himself with your entrance, his tip prodding at your cunt. he slowly guides himself inside you, hand leaving his cock and going to hold your hand beside your head. you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, eunseok is panting at the feeling of your tight cunt around his thick cock. he bottoms out and stills himself completely, giving you time to adjust to him. his head falls into the crook of your neck. “your cunt was made for me baby, you feel so good” he says while placing kisses to your neck. you moan in response, the feeling of being full driving you insane.

eunseok starts to move slowly, not wanting to surprise you or hurt you. but those thoughts are pushed to the back of his mind once he hears the beautiful moans slipping past your lips. he decides to pick up the pace, hips smacking against yours as he pulls out and then thrusts back in, bottoming out again. you cry out, moaning curses, letting a “feels so good” slip out every once and while. eunseok grabs your hips and fucks you deep. you feel your resolve slipping away from you and eunseok can tell. he reaches down and starts circling his fingers on your clit, making your body jolt as cries of pleasure erupt from your throat. “that’s it baby, cum for me” he says, his pace never faltering. that’s all it took for you to come completely undone underneath him. cunt squeezing his cock as your whole body shook, your eyes squeezed shut in please as you moaned loudly. your tight cunt clenching around eunseok sent him over the edge, him cumming shortly after you did. you both riding out your highs at the same time. his thrusts slowed before he dropped his head into your neck again. you wrapped your arms around him holding him close. not quite ready for him to leave your body.

he goes to try and get up but you stop him, “can we just stay like this for awhile? please?” you look at him with your bright shiny eyes and he can’t say no to you. so he switches your positions slightly, moving behind you while you both lay on your sides. his cock still inside you. his arms wrap around your figure holding you close. you cherish the feeling of having him inside you as your breathing finally starts to slow down. you both end up falling asleep, in each others arms, eunseok still inside you. it’s the most comforted you’d ever felt.

.

.

.

[lina-linny]

summary: yn is insecured about talking to much but her boyfriend hyunjin is there to comfort her

genre: hurt, comfort, fluff

words: 1k

It was a typical Friday evening. As always, Yn stumbled through the door of the small apartment she shared with her boyfriend Hyunjin just as he sat down in front of his canvas. Loaded down with bags, she tried to get rid of her shoes with moderate success.

"Yn-aaaaah how was work, love?"

"Good," she replied curtly, putting down one of her numerous shopping bags, which were filled to the brim. Hyunjin was taken aback. When yn came home on Fridays, she usually never stopped talking to him about her work. About how much fun she had with her new project at work, what she had for lunch or what her annoying colleague had done again. It wasn't like her to be that curt and dismissive, hyunjin realized with a frown. shrugging his shoulders, he began to draw. maybe she was just tired.

yn was completely caught up in her usual routine. everything was the same as always. But instead of looking forward to the weekend with her boyfriend and finding comfort in her upcoming weekly "painting-tea-talking ritual", she was plagued by countless self-doubts today. Was she not pretty enough? Was she really annoying hyunjin? Was she too loud?

Sighing, she walked through the kitchen and put the freshly bought groceries away in their designated places. When she had put the last can in one of the cupboards, she put on some tea water and opened the shelf with her thousands of cups. without thinking about it, she pulled out her comfort cup and filled it to the brim with hot water. looking at it, the cup wasn't particularly pretty. the design was peeling off nicely because of the frequent washing, and yet it was perfect in yn's eyes. it had been the first gift hyunjin had ever given her. when she met him, she was stuck in one of the darkest periods of her life. plagued by insecurities, stress and unhealthy relationships, hyunjin had smuggled himself into her life as a small glimmer of hope and when he wasn't there or she couldn't express her worries, she clung to the cup.

Ironically, the reason she needed to hold her cup today was her fear of losing hyunjin. Was she too exhausting? lost in thought, she picked out a tea bag and carefully let it disappear into the water in the cup. then, as usual, she sat down next to hyunjin, who by now had a rough sketch on his canvas and greeted her with a beaming smile.

the artist had been looking forward to her usual ritual all day. yn could only muster a half-hearted grin. as she slumped into her usual chair, hyunjin waited patiently to finally hear all about her day. he was dying to find out whether her colleague ayumi had so obviously made a move at her much too old and happily married boss again, or whether linh from the marketing department had spilled her coffee on her colleagues again and had brought these heavenly muffins as an apology for the chaos, which yn would quote "kill for". in both cases, this would be the third time in a month. but instead of the usual gossip, a depressed silence followed. hyunjin tried to ignore the silence by turning his attention back to the painting in front of him.

he began to paint a dark blue. he carefully let the brush glide over the canvas. as he always did. as he had done hundreds of times before and yet it was wrong. the line was wrong. it didn't show what his heart wanted to express. it was too big and too small, too wide and too thin. it lacked any warmth, just like hyunjin. the room was warmed by the rays of the setting sun and his sweater gave his body a pleasant temperature but it didn't reach his heart.

"yn-ah what's wrong? why don't you talk to me? you can't make me beg so brutally. give me all the tea!" hyunjin's mouth twisted into a pout and made yn smile slightly.

"I don't know, Jini... I talk too much anyway... I don't want to distract you from painting." to say hyunjin was confused would be an understatement. he furrowed his brow worriedly.

"jagia where did you get the idea that you talk too much? i love to hear you talk. especially when i'm painting! i want to know how your day was. every day! i want to hear everything you have to tell me my muse. i can't paint without you. the lines don't get right the painting can't really convey what i feel but when you're with me, when i hear your honey sweet voice it just becomes real love. i never want you to shut up understand?" hyunjin curled his shapely lips into a pout as if his girlfriend had personally attacked him with her previous statement.

"okay, okay jini!" yn laughed, but hyunjin didn't want to let the whole thing go so easily.

"jagi, what makes you think you talk too much?" hyunjin shifted so that his full attention was on his beloved. he looked at her anxiously as she nervously kneaded her hands and clutched her cup for support.

"well... i just thought... you know, hana, you know the one who regularly sleeps with the ceo... i was talking about our date where we went to see this beautiful van gogh exhibition and well... she said i always talk way too much and that i never let anyone get a word in edgewise. and... maybe she also said that... she's surprised that someone like you is still with me at all... and i mean she's not entirely wrong, is she? i always talk so much. when you paint i ramble non-stop. you don't get a word in edgewise and i'd understand if you were annoyed with me for that... or something"

"ohh love..." hyunjin sighed and wrapped his girlfriend in a warm hug, pulling her onto his lap, which she only commented on with a sad smile.

"have you forgotten that I always ramble the same way?" He lovingly nudged her nose, which made her giggle.

"i sometimes ramble on for hours about how great our new choreography is or how annoyed i am with one of the boys and as far as i can remember you always love to listen to me. so please don't stop. you shouldn't listen to hana this little..."

yn stopped her boyfriend from uttering a sinful insult to hana by placing her soft and tea-warmed lips on his. hyunjin sighed into the kiss and pulled her closer to him. Their lips moved as if they had never done anything else before. They danced a dance whose choreography only they knew. Hyunjin's hands were soon in her hair as he tried to take away her insecurities with his kiss alone.

panting, they broke away from each other but hyunjin didn't let her escape from his strong arms. slowly, he covered her now laughing face with kisses. smiling, hyunjin buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. "soo... are you going to tell me how your day was, my muse?" he asked, pressing a tender kiss to her sensitive neck, which made her giggle.

"okay... do you know how annoying hikaru was today? he's been running around all day and..." hyunjin returned to his canvas even though one of his hands was now occupied holding yn's, who by now was sitting in her own chair again, sipping her tea as she talked.

by now, the sun had disappeared and was replaced by the soft shimmer of the moon. the cool evening air wafted through the open windows of their shared apartment and yet hyunjin was much warmer than he had been just a few minutes before. her voice dripped like liquid honey straight to his heart and the soft giggle that had just left her lips made hyunjin beam. he carefully applied the brush and... the line was perfect.

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P18 | not tonight please 🩷

You walked to where Jaehyun was standing and when he finally saw you, walking toward him, he started to gather his bags. He looked a little startled when he saw your face. After you got to him, you tried to take his baggage but he quickly snatched it away before you could even touch it. As if he couldn't bear watching you touch his belongings.

Back then, he really was touchy when you would take his stuff without asking him first. But this time, he made it as if your hands were too dirty to be touching his belongings.

“I can carry it.” He spoke through gritted teeth, and you can't help but think he looked ridiculous with one duffel bag on one shoulder and two more on the other while pulling on his baggage.

He hated you so much, he was willing to carry all of that by himself? If you weren't so hurt, you would've laughed at his stubborn ass. A security guard—whom you were very familiar with—walked up to you and Jaehyun, wearing a pleasant smile.

“Good evening, Ms. y/n. Does your friend need some help?” You wiped away any downcast expression you were wearing and put on a pleasant smile that matched his.

“Good evening, Sungwoo. Can you take two of his duffel bags?” He nodded, the smile still painted across his face.

You felt your smile and whole body freezing when Jaehyun gladly gave two duffel bags to Sungwoo. You coached yourself and controlled your feelings as you swiped your card at the elevator buttons.

The ride up was awkward, to say the least. It was leaning more to tense. Jaehyun was obviously tired from his day and you were still feeling the effects of downing 6 bottles of hard liquor and crying your eyes out from yesterday—the headache was still there. Sungwoo, knowing the lines he shouldn't cross, placed the the duffel bags at the entrance and said his farewells to you before taking off.

You closed the door with a click and turned around to see Jaehyun was already back with his bullshit, carrying all four bags by himself. You gritted your teeth and walked past him.

“Follow me.” You spoke to him, leading him to where his room was.

You opened the door for him and turned on the lights. Jaehyun's room was just opposite of yours, and his room had a wall of sightseeing windows facing the city like your room does too. Jaehyun entered the room quickly and thoughtlessly threw his duffel bags on the queen bed. You walked into the room and clicked on the button of his closet wall to open it.

“This condo rarely has power outages, so don't worry about not being able to open your closet if the power goes out. There's a plug right next to your nightstand to charge your phone, and I don't really mind if you wanna plug in an extension. The bathroom is on your left once you get out of this room, and there's a wall of shelves in there, so place your toiletries nicely. Also, there's a door right next to the fridge in the kitchen area that'll lead to the laundry room, equipped with a washing machine and a dryer. There's an installed ironing board right next to your closet, you can figure that out.” You spoke robotically, beating down your overwhelming emotions after you took in the sight of your estranged older brother under your roof.

“And—and here's your access card, make sure you have it with you at all times. There'll be some nights where I take late night shifts for my job, so I won't be here to open the door for you if you forget your access card and come home at ass o'clock in the dead of the night. Do you have any questions?” Crossing your arms, you made it seem like you were totally unaffected with this sudden sibling reunion.

“How’s the security here?” Jaehyun asked quietly, then rubbing his eyes at the exhaustion taking over his body.

“24-hour security with shift rotations.”

He nodded and quietly muttered his thanks as he started to unpack. You nodded back, after he was already not looking at you anymore. You went to exit his room, but once you got to his doorway, you paused for a second and looked back at him. His back was to you, bent over the bed as he unzipped his duffel bags one by one.

Yuno looked so far away from you.

Once you wholly exited his room, you quietly closed the door. When he was certain you were out of his room and he was out of your sight, Jaehyun stopped what he was doing and stood straight up again, running his hand through his hair before it went to rubbing his face, a sigh exiting his mouth.

When he saw you at the lobby, he had noted that you looked really sick, and how swollen your eyes were.

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A/N : THAT'S RIGHT, SURPRISE DOUBLE UPDATE Y'ALL 😜

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[perfectlyoongi]

A CONFIRMATION - Yoongi, wc: 1.020, u know the drill -just trust me.

The rain was heavy, loud, noisy, attacking the windows with the fury of anguish that lingered in the grey, thick, resentful clouds of that night. The wind was pressing, setting in the streets and neighborhoods of the city, devouring all the life it saw, envious of its simplicity and eternity.

But the real storm had originated in your house, in your room, mere words ago.

“You always knew that, didn’t you?”

Your eyes burned with the pain of betrayal, red with the aggression of hurt, tearful with the intensity of agony.

“It has always been my knowledge, yes.”

Always.

Your started to walk around your room, trying to release some of your anger in the hurried steps you took, painting tumultuous paths between your bed and the door over and over and over again.

“And didn’t you think it was better to tell me that before we went this far? Before I gave myself completely to you?”

You spoke to yourself, letting all your frustrations escape your lips. It was a song of despair, a symphony of regret running away from you with every step, every word, every tear trapped in your eyes.

How could’ve you been so dumb?

You knew it was a mistake. Your whole story – a mistake. From the moment you allowed yourself to fall in love with Yoongi to the moment you let yourself be carried away by his hollow, empty, manipulative words that involved you in a relationship too perfect, too beautiful, too good to be true – or sincere.

How could’ve you been so naïve?

How did you allow yourself to be carried away by promises addressed to the stars, how did you allow yourself to fall into confessions declared to the skies? Nothing he said, nothing he confessed to you, was directed at you. All the words he said to you were never really meant for you – they were always given to the possibility of the universe, offered to the infinity of time and space, never lingering in the moment, in you.

“Tell you… what?”

You stopped walking and looked at Yoongi, his eyes closed in pure confusion, his speech too light to be a tease or a lie.

“What do you mean what?” you huffed and sat on the bed, tired, hurt, broken. How your head hurt at that moment. “I asked you if you liked me, if you loved me.”

“Yes.”

Yoongi was still confused, an almost comical expression on his face as he tried to follow your reasoning, all is intellect practically nil when it came to you, to your relationship.

“You said no.”

“Oh!” Yoongi sat beside you when your explanation lightened a little the darkness in which you had left him. “I don’t love you because I believe that’s not enough.”

You looked at him in the middle of the storm, the rain slackening in line with Yoongi’s words, the wind momentarily withdrawing so that the following words could be heard clearly and without any hitch. That moment belonged to Yoongi, and the universe, devoted to your love, complicit in your passion, was ready to praise the true feelings that were in his soul, in his heart.

“Love ends up dying one day. A lie, a betrayal, or simply because it ceased to exist. Love is ephemeral. And what I feel for you, what we have, I know will transcend our time and the entire universe.”

“That doesn’t justify your reaction, why you were so rude when you know what it means to me.”

You never forced him to use the three words that flowed so freely from your lips whenever you saw him. You never forced him to be uncomfortable around you for your sake. But all you asked, all you wanted, was a confirmation of a question. A simple ‘yes’. And he attacked you with the cruelty of his thoughts, with the intellectuality of his feelings.

“I want to give you everything. I want to do everything for you. But I can’t give you what you ask, I don’t know how to give it to you. For now.”

For now. But already a little late.

Tears finally began to flow as the rain finally stopped. Looking at Yoongi, seeing how naturally he handled that argument, it was too much for your already broken heart.

There was a long pause.

“But I want you to understand what goes on inside me. I want you to know what I really feel. It’s not love, because I don’t believe in the existence of something so small and strong. It’s something big, that contains multitudes and that doesn’t fit in me. It’s something that forces me to confess to the stars, to promise the sky a continuation in the next life because this one is too small to love you completely, to love you as you should be loved. I am devoted to you, completely surrendered to you and your existence, bewitched by your soul.”

Yoongi had held your face in the middle of his speech, forcing you to look into his eyes, into his soul, and realize that only truth was uttered by him.

His thumbs wiped away your tears, smoothing your cheeks with the care of someone who really cares, someone who really loves.

“But if you prefer, I’ll say it. With all the letters and syllables, in as many languages as you want.”

But you shook your head and, in a last effort at comfort, you let your head hide in Yoongi’s chest, allowing him to envelop you in a tight embrace, feeling the pieces of your heart come together again with each caress given by Yoongi.

And, in the warmth of each other’s arms, you and Yoongi shared the rest of the night in the silence of your room and in the calm that came after the storm outside, letting the sounds of the city lull you into a necessary sleep, letting the love between you covered yourselves in that small space, with the assurance that your feelings had been heard, understood, accepted. After all, there were many ways to say you loved someone.

[nandolonso]

UNDISCLOSED DESIRES (Fernando Alonso x Reader)

TITLE: Undisclosed Desires – aka who is the biggest fan of whom? (Fernando Alonso x Reader)

I got inspired after Baku. P6 BABY, LET’S GOOOOOOOOOO!

FYI: English is not my main language nor is Spanish. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Word count: 4K

Warnings: self-doubt, self-image issues, kind of shy reader, reassuring and slightly dominant Nando (who worships the shit out of you), happiness, positive social media presence, Spanish, dirty talking and fingering, smuttish – I hope you enjoy it. 😉

Recommended song: Undisclosed Desires by Muse

Explanation: Y/N – your name, Y/H/C – your hair color

Also, this GIF is chef's kiss, his gaze is so intense. GOSH!!! 🔥 I hope you'll like it. Let me know what you think! ❤️‍🔥

//

It was race day in Baku.

You were sitting in the paddock waiting for Fernando Alonso to show up. Your boyfriend. It was hard to comprehend that he was your man, your partner. It was an unbelievable title – but it was true, he really was yours.

However, the last period has been challenging for both of you. On the one hand, Alonso has spent several periods away from you, as Aston Martin has struggled to get a good position in recent months. Of course, Fernando took his job very seriously, so he helped the engineers where he could. They did a lot of test laps, planning, thinking.

As for you: you were an average person. You were not a reporter or a supermodel. You were completely different from Alonso's previous partners. You were ordinary – in the best possible way. But it was a very difficult situation for you. You often questioned yourself: were you good enough? Were you good enough not only for yourself but for him? Where did you belong in this world? Especially seeing the other WAGs, and how pretty and thin they were… And you could go on. So, all that time you spent apart didn't help your already fragile mental state.

It was tough for you not to project your self-doubt onto him. And you hated yourself for it. Because there was nothing you wanted more than to be there to support him in every race. To be there for him, always. But a lot of times your state of mind, the media presence, and all the hustle and bustle didn't help you at all. That's why you stayed mostly in the background, as you didn't want Fernando to worry any more than he had been worrying lately.

Fortunately, Aston Martin recently managed to sign Adrian Newey to the team, and you could almost see the "life" returning to Fernando's eyes. The love of your life was shining as he entered the paddock: his stance was firm and confident, that mischievous smile at the corner of his mouth was back, and his gaze was sparkling with fire which you hadn't seen for a long time now.

You couldn't help thinking how good he looked. How he deserves to be world champion again. Your world champion. The thought made your chest tighten. You loved him so much it almost hurt. You wanted him to be happy and succeed so much – it was sometimes physically impossible to bear.

You have never felt this way about anyone, and you didn't want to lose him. You had been together for almost a year now, but you noticed your feelings for him growing every day. So, you thought this weekend was the perfect time to surprise him and actually show that. To be there for him not just mentally, but physically.

You pulled yourself together: you wore a custom Kimoa x Aston Martin shirt that fit your body perfectly. While you didn't have a supermodel figure, you were definitely gorgeous. You had a lot of heads turning in the paddock.  

Your Y/H/C hair glistened in the sunshine, your fingernails painted the typical "Aston Martin green". You counterbalanced the shirt with a black skort that showed off your body perfectly but wasn't too much. To top off everything, you were wearing a sneaker to keep it casual. But the way you wore Fernando's name on your body – front and back, sparkled in his colors, and carried his brand proudly, you were anything but "casual".

As soon as Fernando entered the garage, he noticed you. But he had to look twice just to make sure you were really there because he was not used to seeing you around. Although he made no secret of you, he was very aware of how much you tried to avoid the public. He could understand that you were suffering with your own demons, and he knew exactly how harsh the media could be on F1 drivers and their loved ones.  

But at that moment, he didn't care about anything or anyone. Just you. And all he felt was pride. You were a perfect fit. His perfect fit. And the fact that you were wearing Aston Martin colors, and his brand made his heart beat faster. Suddenly he didn't know what he was feeling.

The way he looked at you took your breath away for a moment. You felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room (even though it was half in the open air). The fire that flared up in Fernando's eyes was so intense, that you feared he would burn everyone alive. But mostly you.

Your feet rooted to the ground; you gulped as he strode confidently towards you.

"Mi vida," Fernando began, and leaving you no time to think, he pulled you close to him, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

In that moment you forgot that other people were standing around you. There were probably a few photos taken of you, but you didn't care. At that moment, it was just the two of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you to deepen the kiss.

Not only his eyes were fiery, but so was the passion he kissed with. There was almost no space left between the two of you as he pulled you shut to him, his hand holding your waist tightly.

Your tongues brushed against each other to have a taste. You almost moaned out loud at the sensation, and you knew you had to stop now, or you wouldn't be able to contain yourself. This man brought out emotions that you never had before. With him... Well, you were always horny, so to speak.

Your cheeks heated up at the thought of him taking you there and then, so you broke the kiss. You tilted your forehead to his.

"Nando," you said breathlessly. "People are watching."

"I don’t care, mi amor," he replied, his Spanish accent getting heavier, which tends to come out when he's very passionate or angry. You hoped it was the former. "Estoy tan contenta de verte," he murmured into your lips in Spanish. It meant he was very happy to see you. You have spent the last year trying to learn as much of the language as possible, which he of course appreciated. You were of a different nationality as well and English was your common language.

You learned a lot from him in bed. He was quite vocal – to say the least. Calling you pet names and talking through it… Enough, you thought to yourself, snapping out of your trans.

Fernando laughed at your expression and how easy it was to make you riled up just with a simple sentence. It was as if he could see inside your head. It was easy for him to read you. And he enjoyed teasing the hell out of you.

He pulled you closer to him for a hug and pressed a short kiss to your forehead.

"I'm really glad that you're here," he said once again, this time in English, squeezing you gently to mark his words. "And you look beautiful too," You hugged him around the waist, burying your face in his chest and taking in his intoxicating scent. The smell that always kept you going: something leathery and woody. It was very masculine, but somehow still comforting and reassuring. Thanks to Boss. They were doing God's work with this man.

"Here to support the best," you muttered into his shirt. You pulled away from him for a moment to look him in the eye. "I'm your biggest fan, I hope you know that." He loved the way you were looking up at him: the way you were glowing with love and desire. How your lips were swelled up after the kiss, how you stood there in the garage, proud to belong to him.

Alonso was like you. He hasn't felt that way about anyone for a very long time. And although he did everything he could for you, somehow it was very difficult for him to talk about his feelings. And not because he was ashamed of them or because he wasn't sure of himself – he was too sure of what he felt. And it frightened him. He was afraid to open up and might lose you. He was old enough to know what he wanted, and he didn't want to start over again with anyone else. All he wanted was you. In the end, somehow, he was still afraid. You had been together for about a year, but he was afraid to say those particular three words, even though he kept calling you "my love" and its synonyms in Spanish.

And at the moment as he looked at you… He was sure. He was sure he wanted you for the rest of his life and that you weren't his biggest fan, but more like vice versa. And he wanted to prove it to you.

He pulled you into his embrace once more.

"I know, mi amor," he mumbled into your hair and pressed another kiss to the top of your head. "I'll put myself out there, just for you," he added with a gentle chuckle. You squeezed him and then let him go, knowing how much he had to do before the race. You took a few steps back just to take him in, now there was even more determination in his eyes than before. Fernando was almost vibrating with excitement, knowing you were there to cheer and support him. And there was something in his eyes as well that made the butterflies in your stomach revive.

"I…" you wanted to say something, but how his eyes softened with tenderness made you speechless. He slowly reached for your hands, his fingertips gently caressing the soft skin of your palm.

"Can I take some photos of you guys?" suddenly one of the team members of Aston Martin popped between the two of you. He was clearly making some content for the team's social media channel and even though you were nervous, you somehow felt put together and wanted to support Fernando all the way. "You look so good together," he added with a soft smile. You tried to find lies in his eyes, but he seemed sincere. Maybe it's time to really believe that you're GOOD and that you looked great together. Fernando Alonso wasn't with you for nothing.

Fernando looked at you and waited for your approval. You nodded slightly and Alonso immediately pulled you to him by the waist.

"The best girl on the grid," Alonso said loudly and proudly, pushing a soft kiss to your temple. You couldn't help but smile at his affection and you pulled him closer to you as well, while the social media guy snapped a few pics.

After that, he showed you all the pictures. As Fernando looked at you in the photos, all his emotions were clear: his eyes radiated with love and respect. And you were definitely glowing next to him. The guy went on to show you some of the photos, eventually stopped when he had taken the two of you kissing. You indeed looked very good together.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he mumbled to himself. Fernando tensed for a moment next to you, waiting for any protest. But you didn't. You really did look good together and wanted nothing more than to show the two of you to the world.

"It’s okay," you started. "The pictures are really great," you reassured the guy and Fernando next to you loosened up. He pressed another kiss to your temple then took a few steps back.

"I'm sorry, mi amor, but I have to go now," he said. "Enjoy the race," Fernando added with a wink. That damn wink. And that damn smirk. Gosh, that will be the end of you. Pendejo.

You turned back towards the social media guy, and at that moment you realized that because of his interference, you didn't say out loud what you wanted to a few moments ago. You wanted to declare your love to Fernando for the very first time, out loud, but now you missed your chance…

"Can I take a few more of you, especially the shirt and nails?" he asked shyly, snapping you out of your thoughts. "You seem like a truly great soul who supports and respects Alonso, and I want to show that to the world," you were almost touched by his words. You were definitely genuine with Fernando and didn't want to use him for anything. You were just there because you were his greatest fan. And that was the best thing for you.

You nodded softly and you guys managed to make a full-on photoshoot in the end. You were surprised at how liberated you felt at the end, and you even chuckled and did some "model-poses."

"You're a natural," he chuckled but you soon stopped as the race began.

//

The race was very exciting. Full of overtaking and adrenaline. At the end of the race, Alonso managed to score P6, which is a very big word from Aston Martin these days. You couldn't help but be excited all the way through, expressing emotion and knowing you were going to be all over social media, but you didn't care. Because Fernando Alonso won. In your eyes that P6 was P1.

After the race, you ran up to him and hugged him. He still had his mask on, but you pressed a kiss to the plexiglass. Of course, the cameras were clicking around you, but you didn't care. Because you were incredibly happy, and you were glad for Alonso. And at that moment, that was all that mattered. If it didn't bother him that you were in every picture (and it probably didn't, because he'd asked you to come with him to the paddock countless times), why would it have bothered you?

In that moment you realized that even though you never said those three words, it was clear how you felt about each other. Alonso lifted you up as he celebrated.

"Yes, baby," he said then laughed. You loved it when he was so excited. And you couldn't wait to see what the new season would bring him under Newey's aegis.

//

A few hours after the race, you were sitting in your hotel room looking at your phone.

Social media, especially Aston Martin's official Instagram page, was full of you and Fernando. You couldn't stop smiling as you saw the hashtag #couplegoals and the many, many supportive comments from fans. What were you afraid of in the first place?

Sure, there will always be some people who don't like certain things, but the majority of commenters were supportive. At least, most of them. You locked your phone and looked out the window. You were thinking about everything that happened that day and you couldn't help but admire the wonderful view of the old town of Baku. You tried to take in every little detail, but your mind kept wandering back to how truly happy you looked at those pictures. And how you guys looked good together.

You let a soft sight as you snapped back to reality. You were waiting for Alonso and he was always on time. You were more the late type, but now you're well ahead of schedule. You wanted everything to be perfect. Not just for the night but for you as well. After the race, you took a thorough bath, did the typical "girly routine", used lotion, did your hair, your make-up... You wore his favorite perfume that made you both sweet and seductive – just to make sure he loses his mind. Then you put on an Aston Martin green evening dress that perfectly accentuated your figure and hid what you were less than happy with. That's how you were waiting for him as the two of you arranged to have dinner tonight to celebrate his placing. Just the two of you. You took your eyes off the city and slowly stood up and went to the full-length mirror in the corner of your bedroom to examine yourself.

You've smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on your dress, but you've looked quite nice – even you were satisfied, which is a big thing. You nodded to yourself, just when you heard a knock on your door.

Slowly you walked over and opened it. There stood Alonso, in all his glory. He was wearing a black shirt and a black suit. For some reason, the color combination looked very good on his skin. His stubble was short and thick, the hair was all set. You were instantly struck by the typical "Alonso scent", the leathery, woody, Boss-y fragrance. Gosh, he looked delightful. Your mouth almost watered at the sight.

But as he looked at you, he was the one taken aback. You looked like an angel in that green dress. And he was ready to be your demon in that black attire of his, to lead you into the dark mysteries of the night as his eyes locked with yours. You were like the perfect match for him: black and white, Ying and Yang to each other.

"Y/N," he basically growled, as he stepped closer to you, his accent heavy. He tried crossing the distance between the two of you. The emotions of the whole day were stirring inside him. As he stepped closer, you stepped back. He looked at you as if he were the hunter and you were his prey.

His eyes burned with a fire you'd probably never seen from him before. You were almost afraid that as soon as he got close to you, it would burn. And you weren't sure you didn't want to burn all the way.

As you stepped back, he stepped forward one more step, closing the door behind him.

The back-and-forth game continued until you got to the bed. As soon as your knee hit the thing, a truly devilish smile spread across Fernando's face. His eyes almost darkened, with only one thing in his mind: you. Oh, he wanted to explore every inch of you like he'd never done before.

Suddenly you didn’t know why, maybe because of the intensity of his gaze, you felt very shy. You felt almost naked even though you were fully dressed up. You were almost certain that he saw right through you and he could see your flaws and mistakes. At least, that's how you were with yourself. Because when it always came to "that", it was very hard to switch off and let go.

"Mi amor," he started. "Look at me!" he ordered, and you obeyed. Not that you could argue with that: he stepped closer to you to lift your chin, so you had to look him in the eye. He could read you like an open book. He knew your past, your traumas, your hurts. "I know you've suffered, but I don't want you to hide."

That sentence meant more to you than you knew. The knowledge that he saw you, like really saw you, that you didn't have to hide yourself from him, and that he accepted you as you are, said more than anything. You tried not to get emotional, but you couldn't help it as a single tear rolled out of your eye. Fernando slowly wiped it away with his finger.

His gaze became a touch gentler, his hand slid down your face, down your arm, all the way to your fingers. There he intertwined his with yours and slowly guided you to the mirror.

"What are you doing?" you asked quietly.

"Trust me," he said confidently, as you stood in front of the mirror. The mirror was tilted a little so you could see both of your figures quite well.  "You are the one," he whispered softly to your ear from behind.

You shivered a little, then let go and leaned against his chest. You closed your eyes for a moment, enjoying the way Fernando stroked your arm again, from the bottom all the way up to your neck.

"What do you mean?" you asked softly, leaning your head back to his shoulder.

"As I said, mi amor," the words rolled out of his tongue. "You're the one for me." You opened your eyes and again met that burning look in the mirror as he held your gaze. "I love you, Y/N, just the way you are," he admitted. "Completely and utterly."

The air caught in your throat at the confession. You looked at him with eyes full of emotion, then turned in his arms so that you were face to face with him.

You tried to analyze every little movement of his. Was it true? All the alarm bells went off in your head, but you wanted to believe it. And he seemed sincere. You deserve to be happy too, so it's time to give yourself to it.

 "I love you so much, it almost hurts," you confessed as well. Fernando grabbed the fabric of your dress, it was really hard for him to contain himself. His lips hovered just a few inches above yours.

His chest tightened at the sound of your words, and he could barely restrain himself from taking you at that moment. But he wanted to make sure you felt worshipped and loved – just how you deserved it.

He brushed his lips against yours, looking at your reaction. Your breath hitched in your throat, and he loved the sight of it. He wanted you to see it as well. He wanted you to see how he makes you react. And how he makes you feel good.

He firmly but gently started to turn your hips between his hands. He encouraged you to turn back, so his chest could face your back and you could see yourself in the mirror once again.

"I'm only going to say this once, mi amor," he began, running his hand down your arm again. His voice was firm and dominant. You just loved it when he was like that with you. You knew deep down he was devoted and wanted only good things for you. "Keep your eyes on me," he said in the mirror. "I know it's hard," he added. "But can you do it for me, princess?"

You swallowed hard and nodded.

"Así amor," he murmured into your neck.

He placed a slow kiss on the back of your neck, then moved his hand lower, now on your hip. There he firmly grabbed the dress and almost ripped it off you so that now you were standing in front of the mirror in just your underwear. As he saw the black lace piece, another growl erupted from his throat.

"Mierda," he cussed at the sight of you. You would have preferred to hide. You didn't want to tear yourself away from his gaze, but you didn't want to look at yourself either.

Just like he could read your mind he said: "You're beautiful," sliding his hand from your waist to your stomach, so that he could slowly slip his hand inside your panties. "What did I say, mi amor?" he asked in a dominant voice, suddenly stopping in his movements.

You knew exactly what he meant: you swallowed hard. Once again.

"To look at you," you answered, searching for his eyes again. As your gazes interlaced, he began to move his hands once again.

"Así es," he whispered softly into your neck, then left a hot trail of kisses behind. At the same time, he started to move his fingers skillfully, reaching for the perfect spot: where he could feel your aching desire for him. The need started to pool between your legs larger and larger.

You wanted to close your eyes and lean back to him, to lose fully to the sensation but you knew him just well enough that if you would do that he would stop. He kept eye contact while his fingers were deep inside you. The demon in black, your demon who wanted nothing but to make his angel come undone at his touch and mercy.

"Nando," you whispered, as you looked at the two of you in the mirror.

"Sí, mi amor?" he asked, looking into your eyes while he kept his steady rhythm, collecting your wetness on his fingers, now pressing the end of his palm to your core. You bite down at your lower lips at the sensation, letting out a soft moan. "Use your words, princess," he smirked, knowing how hard it was to concentrate right now. He loved seeing you like this, and you loved the effect you had on him, as you could feel his hardness pressing against your behind. His intense gaze, his body, his touch, and his words almost sent you over the edge. Almost.

Then he suddenly stopped. You let out a frustrated breath and you get a chuckle in return.

"I…" you gasped and then shut up.

"Sí, mi amor?" he asked once again, tilting his head to the side as he was looking at you in the mirror. You desperately craved some friction, you even tried to rub together your thighs, but nothing helped.

"I…" you started once again, and he looked at you with encouraging eyes. "I want to…" your cheeks heated up at your words and you didn't even know why. "I want to cum." you finally managed to blurt out. 

He let out a chuckle, grabbing your hips with one of his hands and he slid back his other under your panties.

"Was it so hard, princessa?" he asked, and he started using his fingers again. This time more passionately and faster. With one hand you grabbed Fernando's forearm while still trying to keep your eyes on him. "That’s it," he told you as he tried to help you finally push over the line. He knew how much you loved him when he talked you through it. "I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come undone for me," he whispered into your ear and that's what it took. You shook in his arms as you finally reached the highest highs, fireworks playing before your eyes and at this point, you couldn't help but close your eyes. Your feelings for him, his voice, his touch – it was just too much. You suddenly stumbled, but he was there to catch you. And he always will be.

"That's it, mi amor," he whispered, holding you close to him, while he pressed soft kisses to your neck as he guided you through your high.

For a few moments, you stayed in silence. Then he spoke: "I'm your biggest fan, I hope you know that," he repeated your words from earlier. Your chest tightened at his confession, and you turned in his embrace, now facing him. A soft and loving smile played on your lips as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“But you’re the one who won, we should celebrate you,” you said mischievously. You started to push him back towards the bed where he sat down, so you could straddle him. Fernando groaned as he felt you move against him. His whole body was becoming hard.

“Oh, we will celebrate, mi vida,” he chuckled darkly. “All. Night. Long.” he said and kissed you with so much passion that it consumed the two of you. Each one was like a promise, a seal, a mark for your happiness and a long, prosperous future together.

[defmaybe]

What would this kkura do to you?

The silk proving to be a thin and yet effective barrier, keeping you on the edge craving for her touch

Up close all in your personal space, the scent of her body lotion is mesmerizing. That tummy, those shoulder ,all within your reach but you're not allowed to touch or sometimes even look at them.

Her foot teasing your inner thighs, just to see your erection bulge uncontrollably

And that outline certainly isn't helping...

She's going to give you a reward in the end right? Riiiight??

I'm one lustful individual, Frisky, here's a quickie lmao

Midnight Blues

LE SSERAFIM's Miyawaki Sakura x Male Reader

1k words

It’s mostly your moans, really, as Sakura grins under the soft light from your television playing some fuckass Netflix rom-com, eyes focused on your torture. You can’t quite pinpoint where it started, but it’s like you’d care with her feet rubbing on your clothed thighs, anyway.

She hasn’t taken her shower yet, still in the midnight blue leather dress she wore for her stage today. White streaks of light are painted on it, and sweat can still be seen on her face. The smell of her rosy lotion and exhaustion permeate the room.

You shift on the couch, letting out a frustrated groan, “S–Sakura, please.”

“No, baby, I have a title. Say it and I’ll do it.”

Her soles contacting the clothed your sensitive area are trying to pull the words back inside your needy, slutty throat. “M–Mis–,” is what you can choke out.

“Mis–what, baby boy?” She asks in a sultry voice, the edge of her toes grazing your sacks, giving some expectations of what’s coming.

“Mistress.”

She lunges at your pajamas’ waistband, pulling it off to reveal your raging erection in a swift motion.

“Hard already?” Sakura chuckles, before sinking back onto the leather couch. It cries as it rubs against her suit.

“Y–Yes, mistress–ngh!” She grabs your cock with her bare soles. She strokes you while being careful of her long nails.

The room is filled with your slutty moans under the ministration Sakura is giving you. It has always been her expertise, really. There was a high-speed incident where it left you with your semen on the dashboard—to which she tastefully cleaned it up. Or the other time in the first class, where you had to suppress your moans to avoid waking up the other fellow passengers. Good thing she had her mouth on your cock by the time it spills your essence.

“M–Mistress, you’re s–so good at this,” you whine, hands gripping the poor fabric of your sofa.

“Thank you, baby,” she responds with a giggle, biting her finger while doing so. Fuck, if the footjob isn’t so damn good, you’d have leap onto her right now. 

She ups the ante, rubbing your erection even quicker. And you can only moan out her name, “Mistress S–Sakura~,” as her heavenly dexterity continues to send electricity through you.

Again, she giggles at your pleasure. Her grip remains soft but tight on your length, at a moderato tempo. “Want me to go even faster, baby boy?”

“Y–Yes, mistress,” you reply in a haste.

She complies with your plea by speeding up her feet on your cock. Each stroke remains careful, yet so unrelenting at making you cum just for her, spreading your seed everywhere (but mostly, she prefers it inside her warm, welcoming mouth; she says that she loves your taste.)

“S–Sakura,” you say, trying to deliver something.

“Hey, my title, baby, remember?” Her voice laces with playful aggression, lower than it should be.

“No, I–I’m just gonna say t–that I love you, babe.” 

And Sakura beams at your words.

“Aww, that’s so sweet baby, I love you too. Still,—” she moves in her seat just a little, trying to accommodate the pace she’s giving on your digit. “—you’ll have to cum for me, so let’s do this, alright, baby?”

You gaze back at her busy feet, seeing her rubbing your cock like that just sends shivers through you, doesn’t it? “Y–Yes, Sakura.”

The tempo is fast; it’s enough to make a sound louder than whatever the characters in your television are moaning right now. You can feel your impending climax from afar. It’s there, it’s there.

Sakura is probably feeling your orgasm coming with the tensed thighs, “Gonna cum, baby?”

“I–I think I–I’m close, mistress.”

“Wanna see more of me before you’re there, baby? Consider this a small gift,” she asks, hands seeming to toy with the zipper at the back. “Well, it’s not small, really.”

You let out a small laugh with the moan as you sheepishly nod at her proposal.

“Alright, baby.” She then unzips her leather top, still putting an effort into rubbing your raging cock. She slowly peels it off, revealing more bare, porcelain skin of hers at each second—neck, collarbones, cleavage. And then there’s the main course—her supple chest that you’ve always loved. Fuck, she even wears nothing underneath her sheer top. They look so smooth, so mouthwatering. Her brown, salivating nipples sitting atop of them is the best part of it, really.

And as it comes undone, she tosses the garment away, giving you the view of her bouncing, delicate breasts at each stroke.

“M–Mistress,” you involuntarily utter.

“Well, I don’t mind you staring, baby.” She laughs.

And with a few more strokes, you can feel it—the impending climax. It builds up inside your lower stomach. It seeps within your body like a plague—one that you’d let it destroy you.

“I’m gonna cum, mistress,” you mutter.

She smiles, before lifting off her seat, sinking to her knees in front of you. And within a whim, she easily swallows your cock, eyes focused on the target. You can do fucking nothing but moan.

“Yes, baby, moan for me,” Sakura says with your length being inside her cavern. “Cum for me.”

It’s almost there. Your thighs tense up, your grip on the couch has never been tighter, so is the tightness of her mouth. Her cheeks are hollowing just for you, creating such empyrean suction none can compare. She bobs her head up and down to push you to it—the orgasm you’ve always wanted.

“S–Sakura,” you utter, before giving in to your orgasm.

You spill loads and loads inside her wanting mouth as her eyes roll upwards to meet yours—so lost in the throes of pleasure. Your hips rock at each spurt, making your flesh hitting the depths inside her cavern. She silently yelps at each hit, jaws locked by your slutty cock.

It slowly dissipates, and you’re panting along with the descent. She laughs with your cock still stuffed within her mouth, before slowly, agonizingly, pulling herself out of it. You groan at the drag.

“Hmm, tastes good as always, baby.” She pulls her tongue out—all clean, unstained. She fucking swallowed it all.

“I always taste good, babe.”

Sakura stands up, smiling. “Wanna cuddle?”

“Definitely… maybe, after round two.”

[hutchersonsgurl]

Out of the Shadows - Daryl dixion

paring fem reader & Daryl Dixon

summary: you and Daryl have been seeing each other for a couple months but he never said i love you

warning: none

The sun hung low in the sky, painting the world in hues of gold as you and Daryl dipped under the broken fence lining the Greene farm. The tranquility of the countryside felt like a distant memory compared to the chaos that lurked beyond its edges. Surrounded by the chaos of the undead, you had carved out a little corner of normalcy here, even if it was fraught with tension and higher stakes than ever before.

You and Daryl had been through a lot in the last few months, the bond between you stretching beyond friendship into something more confusing—something that sizzled just beneath the surface. When Daryl had first suggested, rather awkwardly, that you two could help each other out in "some ways," it had seemed like a harmless enough arrangement. But now, watching him adjust the straps on his crossbow with that familiar frown etched on his forehead, you wondered if your friendship could ever really go back to what it was before.

“Are you ready?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at you. His voice was steady, perhaps a little more composed than how you felt. You nodded, pushing aside your swirling thoughts and focusing on the task at hand. The grocery store loomed before you, a hulking skeleton of its former self, but it was full of potential supplies that could save lives.

As you stepped through the threshold, it felt eerily quiet. The aisles were toppled and littered with cans and wrappers. You took a deep breath, the stale air heavy with the scent of decay, and pushed forward.

After some searching, you began gathering canned goods, medical supplies, and whatever else you could find. Daryl moved through the isles with a predator’s grace, his sharp eyes continually scanning for danger. You admired his focus; it was part of why you were drawn to him.

“There’s gotta be more in the back,” he said, pointing toward a set of swinging doors at the end of the aisle. You felt a thrill of anticipation coupled with a tinge of unease. This was the longest you had been on a supply run in a while, and the store had been silent far too long.

“Let’s check it out; we can’t leave any good stuff behind,” you suggested, heart racing. You wanted to impress him, to prove that you could handle yourself out here.

With a nod, you approached the swinging doors and, with one swift motion, pushed them open.

The sight beyond those doors sent a chilling jolt through your body. A horde of walkers shuffled in the dim light, their grotesque forms shuffling aimlessly. You barely had time to register their existence before Daryl was at your side, crossbow raised, ready for action.

“Back up!” he shouted, shoving you gently behind him. The moment hung in the air before chaos erupted. You seized your knife, your instincts kicking in. Daryl took out the first walker with expertise, his aim true, but there were too many—more than you had anticipated.

You ducked under a flailing arm, slicing your knife into the side of a walker’s head, its putrid weight collapsing to the ground. Daryl's movements were fluid, almost choreographed as he covered your blind spots.

“We gotta get outta here!” he barked, his eyes fierce with determination. You nodded, adrenaline flooding your veins, and together fought off the growing swarm, pushing your way back toward the entrance you had come through.

Each step felt heavy as you battled your way towards the door. You worked in sync, a rhythm established through countless hours at the Greene farm. It wasn’t just about survival now; it was about protecting him, just as he had protected you.

Suddenly, you stumbled, a sharp pain shooting through your leg as one of the walkers latched onto you, its rotten teeth gnashing just inches away. Daryl was there in an instant, wrenching the walker away and dispatching it with a brutal thrust of his knife.

“Get up!” he urged, pulling you to your feet again. You won’t let him down; you wouldn’t let either of you down.

The two of you barreled for the opening, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You felt breathless as you fought to the front of the store and burst through the doors, leaving the throng of walkers behind in the dusty gloom.

Once outside, you sprinted toward the truck, gasping for breath. Daryl slammed the door shut just as a few stragglers lunged at the vehicle. Hearts pounding, you both sank against the truck, the adrenaline slowly fading.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, a seldom-seen relief washing over his features. “Thought we were done for.”

You smiled weakly, still feeling the rush of adrenaline. “I could’ve handled it,” you teased.

“Yeah, like hell you could,” he shot back, a smirk finally crossing his lips, melting some of the tension that had built between you.

Returning to the Greene farm felt surreal. You had faced death together and survived. Only moments later, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the fields, you found yourself alone with Daryl by the barn. The silence wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

“Listen…,” he began, his voice halting. He avoided your gaze, focusing on a distant horizon, but you could see the weight of emotions in his expression. “I... I need to tell you something.”

Your heart raced. Was he finally going to say it? Your breaths came in shallow bursts, the entire world narrowing down to just the two of you.

“I never thought I could let someone in like this,” he confessed, finally meeting your eyes. “But I do care about you, more than… more than I thought was possible in this messed up world."

You felt your heart leap. “Daryl…”

“I love you,” he rushed out, the words tumbling from his lips. His gaze was fierce, raw with vulnerability. “I don’t just want to be friends or whatever. I want you.”

It felt like time stopped. You took a slow breath, allowing his confession to wash over you. “I love you too, Daryl,” you admitted, sincerity resonating through every word.

" it took you us almost getting killed by walkers to tell me you love me " you tease

"Hey I told ya I ain't good at these types of things" Daryl answered

First fic in awhile! I'm slowly getting back into this but hope y'all like it

[teambyler]

New Mil*ven footage: There's a reason they get interrupted (Byler analysis)

Whoever posted this new footage said they're "not breaking up" because El is smiling?

That's presumptuous of you ;)

Source

Maybe they're not breaking up in THIS scene. Or maybe they are, and making clear that things are alright between them. It's possible to be on good terms with someone you break up with. (Shocker!) And even crack a smile while you're wishing the other the best.

One really can't conclude either way. The body language does suggest honesty between them though. (Something not seen in s4.) But that honesty could be about anything.

WHAT'S MORE IMPORTANT IS THAT WE GET THE INTERRUPTION TROPE LOL:

If you ask me, this is CONFIRMATION that not everything's sunny in Mileven land. This is not a "will they or won't they?" interruption of a kiss, because they're already a canon couple. No, this is something closer to the Pineapple Pizza Interruption scene(TM) where SOMETHING the audience is WAITING to be said is NOT said:

In s4, the GA was supposed to think Mike was going to say "I love you." (Or perhaps he was going to call it off after thinking the painting was from Will? Can't say for sure.) POINT BEING: the Interruption Trope is a writing device to tease something, only to deny it. The purpose of it is to set up an IMPORTANT conflict/tension in the story that will be resolved later.

(EDIT: After writing all this I realize that there's another time interruptions happen: AFTER a scene achieves resolution. Will and Mike had one of these in 4x4 with "It looks like it'll be up to us again." "It always is, isn't it?" and Jonathan barges in. For Mike and El, the Painting Lie still needs resolution and is almost certainly related to this conversation. So everything I say here might actually not get interrupted and is actually SAID, leading to a new phase in their relationship. I just think it's less likely because any frank discussion of the Painting Lie makes a Byler conclusion too obvious. Okay, on to the likelier theory!)

Now what is this NEW unspoken thing between Mike and El? Season 4 was all about Mike being unable to say "I love you" to El. And now he has already SAID IT. On paper -- what Milevens call "canon" -- the Mileven relationship is fine and healthy.

So why prepare the audience for a NEW development in their relationship if it's not a breakup, or at least an emotional confession of some kind that threatens the last canon development that made everything "fine"?

The Painting Lie is Chekhov's gun. If this scene is indeed early in s5 (there are very few scenes with Mike and El together in the s5 teaser, perhaps she's with Mike only at the start of the season), then there's very little time for the writers to prepare something ELSE "waiting to be said" that is NOT related to the Painting Lie.

So what is being interrupted? Is it:

Mike asking if she commissioned the painting?

El saying she didn't commission it and telling Mike she thinks Will loves him?

Mike has realized the painting was from Will and is about to confess he doesn't know how he feels about him?

One of them is initiating a breakup?

WHATEVER IT IS, the Painting Lie challenges the stability of Mileven because it was core to the Pizza Freezer Confession(TM) that was supposed to tie up Mileven in a neat bow at the end of s4. The moment the Painting Lie is mentioned, this tells the GA that not everything will stay the same between Mike, El, and Will.

By the time Mike and El get interrupted, (1) the audience has already been made to expect something to come to light between them (likely related to the Painting Lie), and (2) resolution of this plot point will not happen right away and is IMPORTANT to s5.

That's because Stranger Things follows nearly 100% of all TV/movie writing in following a three-act structure. The start of each season sets up the conflicts and character motivations that drive the rest of the season. (Just as the first episodes of s4 set up El's "problem" of feeling like she's the monster and why she went on a journey of self-discovery.)

It's hard to imagine the writers setting up Round THREE of Mike struggling to say "I love you" to El. No, what's being interrupted is the next development, which has to do with the Painting Lie and its ramifications for Mike, Will, and El.

Add to this the fact that all the teasers we're getting suggest that El is separated from Mike and most of the others for some chunk of the season. What's left unsaid between them might remain unsaid. And we know that Mike and Will are side-by-side much of this season. (As promised, Mike said they will "be a team.")

Which begs the question: WHAT is interrupted between Mike and El, and what is it setting up plot-wise? Is it something whose RESOLUTION involves multiple scenes of Mike ALONE with the boy who canonically loves him and made the painting that made him feel so wonderful? Someone who Mike confessed he REALLY missed and Hawkins "isn't the same" without him?

The conflict's GOT to have something to do with Mike's feelings for Will. It FAR surpasses any other possibility, given how much set-up there has been for it.

Another plot point for season 5: on Will's end, he still hasn't come out of the closet. Doesn't part of his "emotional arc" have to include coming out to his BEST FRIEND? This is probably set up in the first episode, also.

That, together with the interruption of Mike and El, helps prime the GA to look at every scene with Mike and Will, reading every interaction and figuring out what will happen between these 2 best friends who have never lied to each other, until now. We'll even see a flashback of when they were younger. How their relationship changes after the inevitable revelations is central to s5.

The ENTIRE SEASON will be the Interruption Trope for Mike and Will, while they confront the full danger of Vecna together. It will be "the painting tucked away in Will's backpack" times a hundred.

-teambyler

(My own theory of how Byler will culminate, in case you haven't seen it!)

[blixabargelds]

a snippet of a WIP that i’m scared is dying in my docs but i randomly hit 800 followers and the last hundred of u have come since i’ve been motaposting so. why not. i hope inspiration strikes to finish it, or at least repurpose parts i like, because i’ve grown so attached to post-war gale being changed in ways neither him nor john were prepared for but loving each other through it all anyway.

It takes a little time for Gale to grow accustomed to the dead boys in their house. It takes John longer, on account of him not seeing them.

It’s a nice house. Small, crumbling in places, and in the middle of nowhere, but it’s theirs. Nobody really bothers them. The paperboy likes them. Likes hearing heavily edited versions of their war stories when they feel like telling them, and doesn’t push when they don’t. John can speak to him more than Gale. He says his name is Archie, and that Archie had a brother who flew Mustangs. Gale hasn’t seen any fighter pilots here, but they may yet come along.

Gale likes to keep working with his hands. He can fix up the house on good days. Remove the rotting shutters, replace the rotting shutters, paint the replacement shutters. There’s a little garden. He sits in it when it’s warm, never when it’s cold.

The sky today is clear, blue and busy with birds. It could turn out warm today. The first warm day of spring.

“Any of your guys around?” John asks in the morning. He’s facing Gale in their bed, hands tucked beneath his chin in a way that makes him look sweet and young.

Gale watches him for a moment, then closes his eyes. Listens. He can sense each one of his fingertips; the way his heart beats steady in the prints. The sheets beneath them are rumpled and smell like John. The breeze comes through the open window, and Gale can feel it. It’s quiet, but he hasn’t been truly alone for a while.

He feels present right now, at least. Oftentimes, they aren’t as lucky as that.

“Don’t think so,” he says, a half-truth, eyes opening.

John tucks an overgrown strand behind Gale’s ear and smiles. “Got you all to myself today, huh?”

[gyllenhaalstories]

BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

[machveil]

Has anyone brought to you the question of what type of car Konig drives? I can’t see him fitting in anything but a giant truck, but also the idea of him in a little VW Bug makes me wheeze. (Of course there’s always the third option of motorcycle, but that might just be because motorcycles are hot af)

OKAY ANON— you activated my brain and had me dig through a 300+ asmr playlist I have on YT for a very specific video so I’m going on a tangent and a half about this haha

I’ll start with the smallest thought portion because this is going to be long…

Retired!König strikes me as owning a motorcycle, first and foremost. he’s always liked the way they look, so now with a hefty savings account and ample free time, he’s decided this can be his retirement project. he could buy a new motorcycle, really treat himself, but this guy is a working man! he buys a beat up, ‘well-loved’ bike (even the seller was surprised someone was actually buying it)

even though Retired!König definitely has enough cash saved up to make the process of fixing the bike up fast… he doesn’t. he wants this to be a pastime he can keep up, even it means he can’t ride the bike for a long time. he’d order parts individually every week or so - smaller parts, maybe in batches. he’ll grab a beer, put on some music, open his garage, and let the neighbors have a show of him dismantling and breathing new life into this motorcycle

all in all, I think it takes Retired!König a year, a year and a half, to fully finish the bike (of his own volition). by the end it’s beautiful - new sleek paint, high end parts, the works. …he could possibly be so into it that Retired!König opens an actual garage shop and fixes up vehicles (mechanic!König anyone?). yeah, he’s retired, but having a hobby that makes you money? can’t say no to that, Maus

ANYWAYS, on to the meat and potatoes of this post

so, my beautiful, oh so smart anon, thank you for sparking my brain into remembering THIS VIDEO. you CANNOT tell me this isn’t König coded, the entire thing SCREAMS König to me (actually, the entire channel does, but I can only fangirl so much)

König owning a Jeep scratches my brain right - I’m not knowledgeable on cars/trucks, so if you think there’s a better off-roading/camping vehicle I will believe you 100%. also, I’m sorry, I’m watching the video as I’m writing this - König would definitely take his fluffy, little kitty camping with him. the guy in the video has a dog, but my cat dad propaganda will never stop

it doesn’t matter where or how old König is, he loves camping and immersing himself in nature - he needs a vehicle that can keep up with him. it started as a kid where he’d flee into the local woods after school or on weekends for alone time. he convinced his mama that he’d be okay if he camped out in the woods, and after one dinky camping trip he was sold. every chance he gets he’s off in nature - hiking, camping, he tried caving once but he was too big :( he liked the entrance to the cave though. he adores bird watching, definitely has high end binoculars. he’d buy a camera too, but he’d rather enjoy nature in the moment rather than fumbling to take a photo. König thinks that some things don’t need to be captured in a photo, it’s okay just sitting down experiencing it, just remembering it

so König enjoys having a vehicle that lets him get away from people, he doesn’t mind driving til he’s almost running on empty. he’d gladly drive out into the middle of nowhere just to sit down and take in nature. always carries a box of trash bags in his truck so he can pick up litter along the road. and, since his vehicle is what allows him to travel, he takes very good care of it

back to his Jeep, he decks it out like the guy in the video. when König camps he treats it as a ‘how long can I stay out here’ ordeal, or up until he has to go home for obligations. so König tries to maximize space, I’ll say it every time - König has a place for everything, he’s an organized king✨

I’m not going to lie, I’m just going to say look at the guy’s Jeep in the video. they way he has it set up is just how I imagine König’s Jeep - this guy has a net attached to the ceiling for supplies, I could see König bungee cording a cooler in the back (completely organized), I just have so many thoughts on König camping this is too much haha

I’m trying to stay focused on the car aspect, but like… camping with König :( I guess I could make that another post if people want to see that

I’m sorry the latter half was so all over the place, I tried to keep it simple and edit it down, but I couldn’t anyways… he definitely owns some type of car that can handle camping. I’m partial to this specific Jeep though, call me biased lol

I looked up that VW Bug and I’m SCREAMING, this poor man haha! he’d be so hunched over, anon, his poor back. König definitely loves the aesthetic/look of the VW Bug, but he’d rather deep clean his home than sit in that (which says a lot). if you own a cute little car he’d offer to drive you everywhere. he claims that he’s being a gentleman, that you shouldn’t have to lift a finger, but in actuality he just doesn’t want to sit in that cramped little vehicle. he’s so sorry, Maus, let him make it up to you by being his passenger princess?

[rottenpumpkin13]

I was going to ask for baby Seph changing places with CC Seph because omg baby Seph and Dadgeal and Momesis but then I realised that means CC Seph will go back to the Nibelheim Mansion in the past and uh uh.

Anyway Dadgeal and Momesis for the win.

*Genesis and Angeal are caring for baby Sephiroth, Zack walks up to them and taps Angeal on the shoulder*

Genesis, bouncing Sephiroth on his hip: Can you believe three people have asked me if we've become parents already?

Angeal, shaking a baby bottle: We're just taking care of our friend until he turns back to normal.

*Zack taps Angeal's shoulder again*

Genesis, feeding Sephiroth: So now two men can't care for a child without being accused of being parents?

Angeal: You're feeding him too fast!

Genesis: I told you to make the formula thicker!

Angeal: Nothing I do is good enough for you!

Genesis: Don't spin this around on me!

*Sephiroth is crying*

Angeal, pulling out a toy: Oh no!

Genesis, hugging him close: He's upset!

*Genesis and Angeal start cooing and soothing him*

Zack: I have never been more jealous in my life.

(Meanwhile)

The first few minutes after Sephiroth wakes up in the past are visceral, as there’s only so much confusion and pondering before realization and fight or flight kick in. Several scientists, lab technicians and security guards were caught in the bloodshed, each blurred face no more guilty than the last in Sephiroth’s eyes.

The alarm was triggered, but by then, what could they do? He had already broken free from the caged crib he had woken up in, and one of the men they answered to had already been dealt with. Hojo’s scrutinizing face had been the first one peering back at Sephiroth through the bars, and the first to paint Masamune’s blade red.

He hadn’t seen Gast anywhere, but Sephiroth wasn’t looking for kind people or soothing words. Nothing could mollify or mend the nerves that spiraled out of control the moment he noticed the lab equipment and the assessment photos of his baby faced self staring back at him through the computer monitors around the room.

He had gone back in time, that much he knew. But the logistics of how such a thing could happen or where he would proceed from there would have to wait. Right now he was focused on escaping just as he had wished to do so many times before.

Except this time he was older, stronger, and had Masamune’s hilt in a tight grip in his left hand, a security measure as he kicked open door after door and looked for a way out. He held no memory of this mansion no matter how deeply he searched his addled mind for one. Nevertheless, he opened doors, flew down flights of stairs and ran down hallways all while the alarm blared behind him.

Sephiroth’s vision blurred in and out of focus, his heartbeat reverberating in his ear as a rush of blood prickled his hot skin. He needed to find an exit, a window or even a—

“Sephiroth?”

The slicing clink of Masamune being drawn followed by a woman’s gasp. Sephiroth kept the sword pressed at her neck, his vision sharp as he narrowed it at his target.

And then white noise all around him. Widened, slitted green meeting frightened soft brown. The yellow ribbon in her brown hair, the violet blouse, it was her. It was his mother—looking him up with the same alarm reserved for seeing one’s deepest horrors.

Sephiroth froze, the air caught in his throat, his grip on Masamune slackening. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, his mind fixated on the face staring back at him—a face he had always known, always feared, always yearned for.

"It really is you!" Lucrecia breathed, her voice filled with wonder, though her body remained stiff with disbelief. Her eyes moved over his form like she couldn’t reconcile the image in front of her with the baby she had seen only hours before. "But how—?"

Lucrecia’s expression shifted, her mouth clamping shut as her wonder dissipated into palpable urgency. Her hands came up slowly, one reaching for his sword arm while the other touched his chest—her touch set his skin on fire.

“We have to go. Now.” Her voice was urgent, cutting through the haze, but she didn’t wait for his answer, and didn't allow him to question her. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist as she tugged him forward.

Sephiroth stumbled after her, barely registering the doors they passed, the alarms still blaring behind them.

The elevator doors came into view, and she punched the button with urgency. Sephiroth still couldn’t speak, still couldn’t form the words that clawed at his throat, the tears in his eyes—why were there tears? Hadn’t he always wanted this?

The doubt was immediately shattered as the doors closed behind them. Lucrecia turned, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a protective hug, her fingers tracing his back as she held him close, gently, nurturing. “My son,” she whispered, “what have they done to you?”

And that was what did it for him. His choked cry came as a precedent to the soft sobs. He dropped Masamune, the hilt clattering to the ground and falling into the wall of the small elevator.

The contact was overwhelming, the senses in overdrive.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear, as if one would speak to a child. “We’re going to be okay now. Trust me.”

[callmelitlesunshine]

Paint It Black*

She ran through the corridors of her own mind, trying to hide. She definitely didn't want anyone to get into her head again. But, alas, it was impossible - the injection was too strong and there was no strength to resist.

Her legs were buzzing from the endless running, and the bright red doors made her want to just close her eyes. But no matter how hard she tried to close her eyes and wake up, nothing disappeared. Somewhere, a painfully familiar voice echoed, which seemed to have been with her for so long that she herself did not remember when it all began.

“Where is he, Bell?”

Yes, it seems that this is her call sign…

But no matter how long and far she tried to escape, this voice always followed her. And as she approached the desired point, it became louder. Louder. And louder each time, until Belle felt this man at all. Nearby. Right behind her. She felt the weight of his strong hand on her shoulder, his breath, a quiet voice right next to her ear… and the smell of cigarettes. Bitter and disgusting, only he smoked such cigarettes.

Bell was in a stupor and could not move. In front of her was that same red door, despite the number of ones she had already passed.

— Tell me, Bell… Where is he? — her gaze was fixed on that very door, but Adler’s voice made her shudder and look away somewhere to the side. She just wanted to make sure that he was really here. But he was in her head, despite the persistent feeling of presence.

— Open the red door, Bell….

And she couldn't resist. All she wanted was to repaint all the red doors she met in black*, so that they would no longer bother her. But her hand itself reached for the handle of this massive gates. And behind it what Adler need.

*reference to the lines from the song The Rolling Stones - Paint it Black.

Sooooo heheheh i can share this here!!

That was my big work i did some time ago! I already posted it on my insta last week, but i want post it here too :3c

In first animation of running I used a ready-made running animation to test it, but it turned out pretty good in the end and I decided to use it!

But the second animation was made from scratch by me! It was a really cool experience and i will make more of it!

Also, you can watch second animation as video here (it will be in better quality than gifs)!

Hope y'all enjoy this!

[not-xpr-art]

Len and Tommy's life told through nine photos ~

A fanart based on the Inside no 9 episode 'Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room' because I loved it so much!

(09/2024)

See below for close ups and unnecessarily detailed explanations of each individual artwork lol

First wanna say that I spent wayy too long on these (like 25+ hours), especially trying to make them look like actual old photos lol... also trying to get their likeness right for the various ages was really bloody hard lol, but hopefully each photo has the essence of each character even if it might not look 100% right pfft...

Second thing is that the dates & locations are very much my own subjective thoughts on their life and not particularly rooted in the canon of the show lol

Also I did go really heavy with the colour symbolism lol...

Ravenhill School, 1965.

The year they met, both are around the age of 10 (give or take). Len is 3 from the left in the top row, Tommy 2 in from the left on the bottom row (also I tried to include references to the other 2 League Of Gentlemen guys... Though I think the only vaguely recognisable one is Jeremy pfft)

Also shout out to @lapis-lazuliie for the idea that they met at school!

(side note, this is the least detailed of all the paintings not just because I was too lazy to render all those children's faces pfft but ALSO because of the significance of them being less recognisable or prominent in each other's lives in this point...)

I was planning on making another childhood/early teen photo but couldn't really think of any good subject matter that could also fit thematically with the episode (also the fact both are coming from poor families who would have had limited access to cameras in this era means we can just pretend that there are just no photos that really exist of them at these ages pfft...)

Photo booth in Leeds, 1974.

Both in their late teens, they'd (well, mainly Tommy) gone to a photo booth in Leeds with the intention of getting some professional looking photos only for Len to immediately make Tommy laugh once they got in there lol

The middle photo is covered in lines as Tommy had planned on throwing it away, only to find he couldn't bring himself to do it in the end... Is it platonic? Romantic? Both? Who knows, you decide lol! I mainly wanted it to be a candid moment between two people that love each other lol

(final one is them play fighting because that's kinda just what 19 year olds are like pfft... also I think photo booths technically gave you 4 photos? so let's pretend there was another photo that they did throw away for whatever reason lol...)

Rehearsals, 1979.

Deep in the midst of practising their routine for some of their first performances!

I'll admit this photo was mainly me wanting to include something more episode specific lol and also to get in some much needed heavy handed symbolism (the crease in the photo separating them, the bottle in front of Len's face, etc)

Polaroids taken at Tommy's flat, 1985.

In-between shows the two often spent a lot of time at Tommy's place (featuring that god awful sofa the previous home owner had left). I did originally plan to have them in the sofa shot together, but was finding it hard to figure out who would have been taking that kind of photo so figured it made more sense to make it shots they took of each other.

Also marks the beginnings of Tommy's weariness (& Len's over drinking...)

Outside the Glasgow Pavilion, 1988.

The morning of that fateful performance...

Ok not much else I wanna say about this other than the reference I used for the pose had Reece sorta awkwardly clasping his hands in front of him which I really liked but unfortunately in my art it just looked like he was trying to cover his crotch so I had to change it pfft...

Tommy standing at Len's grave, 2024.

The sixth anniversary of Len's death, and the sixth time Tommy has travelled across from France to lay flowers at his grave. Photo taken by Leanne from the inside of a taxi (I'd like to have had more references to her in these photos but was unsure of dates/ages where it would have fitted...)

She couldn't get her phone to not focus on the raindrops on the window as she tried to take a picture of Tommy at her father's grave but then realised that she actually liked the pathetic fallacy and had it made into a print anyway lol (look I'll be the first to admit that this is the least 'realistic' in terms of a photo that people would take, but I couldn't resist the symbolism of it lol...)

There were a lot more ideas for photos I wanted to do but for obvious reasons had to keep it to just 9 lol

Also will be posting these on my ao3 with snippets of stories to go with each photo so keep an eye out for when I share that link!

[pemguims]

reporter: so how do you feel about your teammate signing his extension ? :)

player: once when i was a child i dreamt of a man cloaked in gold and silver, and he bestowed upon me the knowledge that one day i will be blessed with a treasure unlike any other. for years i thought this to be a material blessing and pursed countless empty and useless things in the hope that this will be what completes me. and then of course, as was foretold, i met him, and my life was filled with golden light and such warmth i had never even dreamed of. the thought now of spending even a fraction of my life without him fills me with the utmost despair and dread - he completes me and i him; we are one and the same, two paintings drawn with one brushstroke. i wish for us to spend every waking moment together, and when eventually my time comes to an end i hope he will be beside me, hand in hand as we journey on into the next life. also he has a really good slapshot

[asherraccoon]

Care- Radioapple- Hurt/comfort, fluff-Requested-ish?

(Anon didn't specify a plot, they only asked for Radioapple hurt/comfort)

Charlie was getting worried. Her dad hadn't left his room in several weeks. Not even to come eat. She had figured Lucifer was just busy, being a king and all, but he's been really quiet. More than usual. She had been bringing food for him and leaving it outside his door, and it was always gone when she went to check, but she didn't know if Lucifer was actually eating it. 

Vaggie looked at Charlie and set a hand on her shoulder. “Have you checked up on your dad recently?” She asked. 

Charlie sighed. “I tried too but he wont open up the door. The most I got was an 'I'm fine’ and 'don't worry’ but he didn't sound fine. He sounded… tired…” Charlie crossed her arms. “I think he's fallen into a depressive episode,” 

Vaggie cupped Charlie's cheek. “He'll be okay, I'm sure of it,” she said with a smile, attempting to comfort her girlfriend. 

Charlie leaned into Vaggie's hand and held her wrist. “I hope so…”

“Maybe you can get Alastor to check up on him? The two have been getting closer lately and sometimes it's easier to trust friends than it is to trust family,” Vaggie suggested. 

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, maybe…” 

__________________________

After having been requested by Charlie, Alastor made his way to Lucifer's room. He hadn't admitted it aloud, but he was getting a bit concerned when he noticed Lucifer hadn't been leaving his room for a good few weeks. He stopped outside of Lucifer's room. The door was a golden color with a red apple and a white snake painted on it. He knocked three times. “Lucifer,” 

It was silent on the other side of the door. 

“Lucifer,” Alastor repeated, a bit louder. 

No response. 

Alastor's ears lowered. He merged into the shadows and teleported into Lucifer's room. 

Lucifer's room was messy. More so than usual. There were some dishes on his desk, none of them were empty. Some had half eaten meals on them, others looked as though they'd only had 3 bites taken from them. 

Alastor looked at the bed, where Lucifer was hiding underneath the blankets. Alastor approached. “Lu,” he said softly. He pulled the blanket away from Lucifer's face. 

Lucifer looked up at Alastor. He had bags under his eyes and tear stained cheeks. His hair was dirty and greasy. It looked like he hadn't changed his clothes in a while. 

Ah, so it was a depressive episode. 

Alastor sat down on the edge of the bed. “Lucifer, dear,” he ran his hand through Lucifer's messy hair. 

Lucifer let out a small whine and tightly squeezed the deer plush he was cuddling. He hid his face in the plush's neck. “Go away,” he said quietly. 

Alastor hummed and sighed. He stood up. 

Lucifer was a bit relieved when Alastor stood, thinking he was leaving. He wasn't expecting to be suddenly grabbed and lifted. 

Alastor picked up Lucifer, holding him bridal position in his arms. 

Lucifer squeaked as he was picked up. He leaned into Alastor and hugged his deer plush close. He didn't bother fighting. “Where're we going?” He mumbled. 

“Bathroom, you're filthy,” Alastor said, carrying Lucifer to the bathroom attached to the bedroom. 

Lucifer whined quietly. “I don't wanna shower,” he complained. 

“That's why I'm going to help you,” Alastor said. He entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He set Lucifer down on the edge of the bathtub and turned on the water, plugging the drain. 

Lucifer watched the water spill from the faucet. “Why?” He asked. 

“I'm not going to let you lay there in your own filth, Lu,” Alastor replied. He held his hand under the water, testing the temperature. When he decided it was good, he stood and walked back into the bedroom. Alastor removed the dirty bedsheets with his magic and replaced them with clean ones. Once that was done, he returned to the bathroom. 

Lucifer held his deer plush in his lap, playing with its ears. 

“Does it have a name?” Alastor asked, gesturing to Lucifer's deer. 

Lucifer looked up at him. “Uh... No… I just call him Deer,” he said quietly, a little embarrassed. 

Alastor hummed. “Is he your favorite?” He asked. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching the water fill up. 

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah,” 

“I would have expected a duck to be your favorite,” Alastor said teasingly. He chuckled softly. 

Lucifer blushed. “W-well, deers are cool too…” he fiddled with one of Deer's antlers. 

“It's 'deer’, not 'deers’, Lucifer,” Alastor corrected. 

“Uh- sorry…” Lucifer held the toy up to his face, attempting to hide his embarrassment.

“It's a simple mistake,” Alastor shrugged. He turned the faucet off. 

Lucifer's hand pet Deer's fur, distracting himself from the embarrassment he felt. 

“Bath is ready,” Alastor told him. He stood up and knelt in front if Lucifer. “Can I put Deer on the counter? He'll be right where you can see him,” he requested. 

Lucifer hesitated. He didn't really let other people hold his comfort items, but he felt Alastor could be trusted. He handed the toy to Alastor. “Just be careful with him,” 

Alastor took the plush and stood. He set it on the bathroom counter, giving it a pat on the head before returning to Lucifer. “Ready?” He asked. 

Lucifer fidgeted, but he gave a nod.

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

Alastor rubbed the soap into Lucifer's hair. He gently scratched and massaged his scalp, attempting to get the dirt and filth out. 

Lucifer sat in the water with his knees hugged against his chest. He wasn't used to having someone care for him. It felt weird. He spoke up after a couple minutes. “Why do you care?” He questioned, his eyes on the wall. 

Alastor paused for a moment. He then continued his movements. “Because I enjoy being with you, Lucifer,” he said softly. “I don't like seeing you so depressed and tired,” 

Lucifer stayed quiet after that. He allowed Alastor to wash his hair, feeling too tired to fight or argue. 

“Are you hungry at all?” Alastor asked him. 

Lucifer shook his head. “No. My appetite hasn't been very good lately,” he replied.  

Alastor tilted Lucifer's head back to pour water over his head, rinsing the shampoo away. “Well, is there anything else that you need?” He wondered. 

Lucifer shrugged. “I just wanna be left alone,” he muttered. 

“Well, that's certainly not happening,” Alastor said. He finished rinsing out the shampoo and started conditioning Lucifer's hair. 

“Why not?”

“Because isolation isn't a good way to deal with your depression, Lucifer,” the deer demon said. “You say that you're lonely yet you isolate and neglect yourself. You can't combat fire with fire, Lucifer,” 

Lucifer felt tears well up in his eyes. “I-I know…” he mumbled. 

“Then why do you do it?” 

Lucifer took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I guess it's just… I don't…” he sighed and bowed his head. “Whenever I go into these episodes… my brain likes to tell me that I deserve to be sad. I deserve to be alone,” he explained. “And I can't help but believe those thoughts are true. It feels like everything is my fault. It feels like I'm the worst… I don't know what to do in that situation other than isolate myself and let myself rot…”  

Alastor listened. His ear twitched as he heard a sob escape Lucifer's mouth. His ears lowered. Was he too hard on him? He did kind of pressure Lucifer into talking. Shit. Now he felt bad.

Lucifer sniffled. He wiped a tear from his cheek. “Fuck…” he whimpered. 

Alastor took a breath. “Look, Lucifer,” he spoke gently. “Isolation and self-neglect… Those aren't good ways to cope. And I know that it's hard to take care of yourself when you're down in the lowest, but you've gotta talk to someone about it so they can help you,” he rinsed the conditioner out of Lucifer's hair. 

“But it's hard to talk to people…” Lucifer said shakily. He sniffled again. “I-I don't want t-to b-burden them…” 

“You won't burden me, Lucifer. I'm here to listen to you and comfort you when you need it,” Alastor responded. He squeezed the extra water from Lucifer's hair and then reached for the drain to pull it. He shook his wet arm when he removed it from the water. 

Lucifer shivered at the loss of warmth the water had given. He hugged himself tighter. “Cold,” he spoke quietly. 

“We'll get you into some clothes in a moment,” Alastor said, grabbing a towel. He handed the towel to Lucifer for him to dry off and summoned some fresh clothes with his magic, making sure they were comfortable enough for Lucifer. 

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

Once he was clothed, Lucifer took his deer plush off of the bathroom counter and held it close. 

Alastor took a hair brush and stood behind Lucifer. He began brushing Lucifer's hair, making sure to get all the knots and tangles that hadn't been gotten rid of in the bath. 

Lucifer winced a little when knots were brushed out. “Ow,” he whispered.

“Sorry,” Alastor apologized. He set the hairbrush aside once he was done. “Do you want or need anything else, Lucifer?” He asked. 

Lucifer hesitated. He hid his face in the plush. “I-I don't wanna be alone… can you please hold me? Just for a little?” He mumbled shyly. 

Alastor nodded, his expression soft. “Of course, darling,” he said softly. He put his arms around Lucifer and picked him up.

Lucifer hid his face in Alastor's shoulder. 

Alastor carried Lucifer out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He set Lucifer down on the bed for a moment. He sat down beside him and then pulled Lucifer back into his arms. 

Lucifer leaned on Alastor. He kept most of his focus on Deer, playing with the plush's ears. Being in Alastor's arms felt nice. He was warm. He made Lucifer feel safe. He closed his eyes, sighing softly as he pressed closer to Alastor. 

Alastor played with Lucifer's hair. A faint click was heard from Alastor's chest before a soft song began to play. He hummed along with it. 

Lucifer blinked at the sudden music, but he didn't say or do anything. He listened to Alastor's humming and the music. He let out a quiet exhale. “Thank you… for taking care of me…” he mumbled quietly. 

“Of course, mon cher,” Alastor replied, combing his fingers through Lucifer's hair.