#I’m watching this for the first time at the moment and I’m genuinely so upset to find out they don’t actually get together

[earthtooz]

x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+ﾟ

in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.

warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.

a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!

“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.

He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.

“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”

The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.

During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong. 

“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”

Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”

“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.

They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?

However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.  

Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”

Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.

“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.

“I’m starting to regret it.” 

“Can’t you at least say it again?”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.” 

“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”

“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind. 

You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.” 

“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”

“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”

“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!” 

“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”

“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”

Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety. 

His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else. 

“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”

You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections. 

But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[timmydraker]

On a seemingly random Tuesday night, a few members of the Bat Family are free to spend dinner at the manner.

Jason was benched by his fellow Outlaws for a nasty hit to his chest and got tired of Biz’s worrying even if it was appreciated at first.

Dick had been taking a small break after a particularly bad case with work that involved some hurt children and wanted to be back home.

Damian had only ever made threats to move about but the newley eighteen year old was still at home.

Tim had been using his free time while Kon and Cassie visited their families to visit his own while Bart and Barry dragged Wally on a bonding trip. The poor West boy had to miss out a concert of some sort.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass were all busy with a case and had pleaded with Bruce to take some time off because he was, quote, “Broodier than Hamlet”. He eventually relented when Barbie and Kate promised to keep an eye on them.

The group had decided to watch a movie instead of playing games, mainly because not games were banned, and settled on something that Tim paid no mind to.

The problem came that it was cold out and everyone insisted on having the fire as hot as it could go, but Tim naturally ran hot. Jason and Damian tended to get the coldest and while only Jason would complain, Damian could and would set anything he wanted on fire to get warm.

So, Tim didn’t complain and just said he was going to get changed.

He spent at least half an hour on one of the arm chairs by himself with his tablet playing RuneScape, when Dick inhaled so quickly everyone heard it.

Tim assumed it was something to do with the movie and didn’t turn, tapping away at his screen, completely ignorant to Dick’s quickly forming tears.

It was when Bruce also made a noise, this time a poorly pronounced ‘oh’ that he turned around, assuming it had to be a truely grand thing for Bruce to react so openly in the movie.

Instead he finds his foster father and brothers staring at him.

More specifically, his thighs.

Tim hadn’t realised his shorts would ride up and stop covering him to just above his knee and show the hundreds of scars littered over the outside and inside of his pale skin. They were mostly faded, but with the width of some of them they were always going to be visible, especially with the sheer amount.

Pulling his pant leg down, Tim doesn’t bother to hide a sympathetic wince and says, “Sorry, didn’t meant to show them. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He looks away again, assuming that was that and trying to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault that people were upset by his scars, just like Black Canary told him.

Instead he hears a sob and turns back to find Bruce holding Dicks hand as his oldest brother sobs into his hand. He sees that Jason is seemingly fighting to not match him even with his wide eyes and Damian is staring at him with confusion.

Realisation finds Tim quickly, which makes sense considering he’s supposed to be the ‘smart Robin’.

“You didn’t know…”

Dick stands up, dropping Bruce’s hand and comes to kneel before Tim, holding onto his own hands like some kind of follower to a god, “Why? I- I don’t- why?”

The desperation in his voice makes Tim feel sick, and he looks around at the others for help because surely he had talked to at least one of them about it? He had been open with his friends, and he hadn’t exactly kept it a secret, but he did avoid showing them…

Tim moves to hold onto Dick in return, “I’m sorry, I thought you guys knew-… okay, look, I’ve got a two year clean streak and I’m in therapy, okay? I’m so sorry Dick, I just assumed you knew cause I use the shower in the cave with you guys and… I’m so sorry.”

There’s a silence for a moment as Dick drags him into his arms and squeezes him as tightly as he can, not even being careful like he usually would.

“I don’t understand.”

Damian’s voice sounds uncharacteristic in how small it is. He’s staring at Tim’s legs like he might be able to catch a glimpse of the scars in genuine confusion.

Bruce seemingly can’t speak and so Jason tries his best to explain to the youngest Wayne boy, “Look, bra-kid, some times when people aren’t doing to well they… they hurt themselves. Tim…”

Giving his brother a smile, Tim takes over as tears finally break away from Jason. Jason was always the most emotional and that’s evident in how he actually lets Bruce pull him into a side hug.

“Dami, you know how my parents kind of sucked?”

Damian makes a scoff noise, “I know they were incompetent, yes.”

Smiling, Tim continues as his eyes grow wet with the sound of his families cries, “Well, I really wanted to good for them but they had impossible standards. When I found I couldn’t reach them, I decided I needed punishment. So…” he takes a deep inhale and moves a hand to Dick’s head to comfort him as he finishes. “I started to cut myself.”

Damian doesn’t get wide eyes or anything, and Tim thinks it’s so much worse that there’s an image understanding in his little brothers eyes that show he sees that as completely logical.

But it is quickly overcome, his first thought always what he was raised with and quickly followed by the ideals he’s learnt and now values. He doesn’t cry either, but he does have a look of a pure heart break in his sweet little eyes.

Bruce finally comes over and pulls his two sons into a hug, adjusting to fit Jason in and saying nothing as Damian comes up behind Tim and leans his head against the others back.

Bruce asks other a few minutes of holding each other, “You said you haven’t for two years?”

Tim smiles once again and presses a kiss to his dad’s cheek. “Yeah. I learnt that family, real family like ours, would never want physical punishment, especially for something we can’t control. That’s not how loving people work.”

Damian moves to wrap his arms around Tim in their first ever hug and by all gods and mighty beings is Tim glad he stuck around.

Hugs from his family was well worth it.

[jo-speaks]

APOLOGY ACCEPTED

overview: after quinn receives the silent treatment, he's determined to make it up to you.

warnings: smut below! MDNI!! fingering, unprotected sex, quinn being an asshole but he makes up for it, etc.

note: got inspired to write bc the canucks beat the blackhawks!! (i was worried after they gave up that first goal)

“Will you quit acting like a child and just talk to me?”

You scoffed at his comment, slipping off your shoes and hanging your keys up by the door, Quinn following behind you.

In his eyes, you had no real reason to be upset. You had attended the Canucks and Islanders game, the game ending in a loss. You expected Quinn to be in a mood, a quiet one at that, so you didn’t make much of an effort to talk to him.

However, you hadn’t expected him to dodge your greeting entirely. No matter how upset he was, he’d always greet you with a hug and a kiss. This night, he had let you make a fool out of yourself, letting you wrap your arms around him as he failed to reciprocate it, being followed by walking away as you just nearly connected your lips to his.

This resulted in your current situation. You giving him the silent treatment. He had attempted to spark a conversation in the car once he had calmed down but fell victim to your silence.

He groaned in annoyance as you stepped into your shared bedroom, slipping out a few moments later in your own oversized shirt, something you only did when you were truly upset at him. You found solace on the couch, grabbing the remote and throwing some random video on in the background. Quinn watched as you didn’t even glance at him, his presence completely nonexistent in your state of anger. 

He sighed walking into the room you once were in to change into something more comfortable than the suit he had entered the arena in. It was only when he slipped into his sweatpants was it that he realized that he was the one in the wrong. You had taken time out of your day to come out and support him, offering comfort even after a tough loss. 

Quinn debated with himself in his own mind, brainstorming ways to make it up to you. He could get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, smothering you with kisses until you forgave him or even spoke to him by telling him to stop. He could spoil you with gifts for the next year. He was feeling so unworthy of you that he briefly considered retiring early just to spend the whole time making it up to you. 

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. He stripped off the shirt that he had put on only a few moments prior and stepped back into the living room. 

His eyes were met with a slightly different scene than when he had left. Instead of mindlessly watching the TV, you were on your phone. He could catch a small glimpse of your screen, seeing you like a post from the Canucks Instagram page of him hugging Lekkerimäki after scoring his first NHL goal, zooming in to get a good look at his proud smile.

Quinn could feel his stomach twist at your actions, regretting every single second he had gone without apologizing to you.

You soon went back to scrolling your feed, trying to ignore Quinn’s presence as he squatted in front of you, turning the TV volume down before shifting his attention to you.

He sighed, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

It was genuine, you knew that. But he was going to have to say a lot more than sorry after what he pulled. Quinn knew this too, immediately crowding your space, taking your phone out of your hands, and placing it on the coffee table. You rolled your eyes, shifting your gaze at the TV behind him even though it was barely coherent. 

Quinn didn’t stop his efforts when you ignored him, if anything it implored him to try harder. He began kissing your cheek, eventually trailing down your face and landing on your neck, sucking at the soft skin, leaving purple blotches wherever his lips landed.

You struggled to keep quiet as he reached a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, a spot he knew would make you want to drop it and give in. Somehow, you managed to keep your composure, distracting yourself with the TV.

His lips trailed further down, kissing over your shirt as he kept going lower. It was only that his kisses stopped when he reached the bottom of the clothing. He moved it slightly so he could get access to your shorts. He moved from his squatting position to hover on top of your figure on the couch. 

Now that he was in a more comfortable spot, his lips found your face again as his hand dipped into your shorts and past your panties. You bit your tongue as the pads of his fingers made contact with your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He mumbled into your jaw, “So fucking sorry.

Once again he trailed lower, his lips landing on your collarbone this time. His fingers increased their speed and keeping quiet was getting close to impossible. Luckily for him, your control slipped slightly as he pushed two fingers into you, a soft moan escaping your lips. 

He was knuckle-deep into you as he curled his fingers, hitting that one spot in you that caused a gasp to slip out. You were determined to keep quiet, but with every thrust of his fingers and tightening of the knot in your stomach, you wanted nothing more than to cry out his name and beg him to fuck you.

Quinn was relentless, not only with his fingers but with his words. He mumbled apology after apology into your skin as you panted, trying your best not to let anything slip. His mouth ended up next to your ear, his words seeming much more intimate due to the proximity. 

“Please forgive me, sweet girl. I’ll never do it again.” He whined, sounding pathetic as he begged for your forgiveness.

One last curl of his fingers and your body stopped fighting him. You came undone around his digits, crying out his name as you reached a hand up to tug on his hair. He sighed in relief, eyes shutting as he felt the satisfaction of not only making you cum but also hearing you acknowledge him since entering the apartment.

As you came down from your high, he continued to place soft kisses all over your neck and face. The satisfaction continued as you turned your head, your lips finding his like you had yearned for back at the arena. 

He retracted his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, wiping them clean with his tongue. You smiled hazily at the sight, admiring the way he savoured your taste as if it was his favourite thing in the world.

“Am I forgiven?” He whispered, a hint of worry laced in his words.

You giggled quietly, “I think you can make it up to me a little more, don’t you think?”

Quinn smiled at your words, stepping off the couch to discard his pants completely. You lifted your hips, sliding out of your shorts. He only got as far as to sit down on the couch before you swung a leg around his lap, straddling him, his eyes admiring you on top of him. 

Now it was your turn to litter him in marks, his lack of a shirt making his pec your first target. You sucked gently, grinding yourself over his bare cock, eliciting a groan from your boyfriend.

“Let me take care of you, hm? Promise I’ll make you feel good.” Quinn asked, hoping to at least be able to rest inside of you as you sucked at his skin.

You smiled, pulling back to place a brief kiss on his lips, “I know you will. But I wanna take my time with you. Just give me a second, okay?”

He knew he wasn’t in a position to complain, so he simply nodded, settling for the stimulation he was getting from your hips. Thankfully, Quinn was so easily marked up that you were satisfied not long after. You were always careful not to leave any hickeys that were visible under his gear, but you got carried away and now the media would get a short glimpse into his personal life. Not that either of you cared about it at the moment, however.

When you pulled away, you lifted your hips and shot him a look. He caught the hint immediately, lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you swiftly.

Quinn gave you no chance to adjust before he fucked you harshly. All the teasing you had made him endure got him so worked up, that he was surprised he didn’t finish as soon as he entered you.

“Shit, you feel so good.” He groaned, his hands shifting from your hips to grope at your ass.

You let out a whimper as you felt your orgasm build up yet again, the look on your boyfriend’s face making your brain short circuit. His eyebrows were knitted together, eyes glossy and cheeks red as a stream of moans left his throat.

“Quinn! I’m so close.” You whined, your face leaning into his shoulder in an attempt to hold yourself together long enough for him to finish with you. That vision was tossed out of your mind as Quinn brought his hand to your clit, his thumb rubbing around it.

A stream of his name along with some obscenities escaped your lips as you came around his cock, the pulses coming from your pussy being enough to tip Quinn over as well.

His movement subsided, the only sounds in the room being gasping breaths coming from the two of you.

Quinn settled down first, pressing languid kisses to the side of your face. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

You smiled into his skin, turning your head to look at him, “Apology accepted. Just don’t ever do it again.”

“I never will.” He leaned over to kiss your lips longingly before speaking again, “How about we get cleaned up and order in some dinner? We can even throw on one of those cheesy romance movies you like.”

[solxamber]

Love Bites - Floyd Leech x reader

You like him quite a bit, you really do but you're really questioning your decisions after some time spent with him ends up sending you to the ER

Crossposted from my ao3!

Floyd’s sharp-toothed grin stretches wider as you glare down at him, every ounce of annoyance in your body evident as you clutch the bandaged area on your arm. The bruises beneath your sleeve throb dully, and the memory of him sinking his teeth into your skin is still fresh in your mind.

“Are you actually mad at me, Shrimpy?” Floyd's voice is teasing, as though the whole thing is a game to him. He lounges lazily in front of you, as if your anger is nothing more than another source of amusement. “They're just little love bites.”

Your mouth opens, incredulous, but no words come out at first. Instead, you just hold up your arm—complete with the stitches and bruises that have formed there. You watch as Floyd’s mismatched eyes follow the movement, his head tilting slightly as he appraises your injuries like they’re no big deal.

“Little love bites?” you echo, finally managing to find your voice. “Floyd, I have stitches. Actual, real-life stitches.”

Floyd shrugs, still unbothered. “It’s just a few marks,” he says with a lopsided grin, sharp teeth gleaming. “You’re tough, right, Shrimpy? Bet you’re already healing.”

The nonchalance in his tone only fuels your frustration, and you can’t help but huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare down at him. It’s always like this with Floyd—he never quite takes anything seriously unless it piques his interest. And apparently, the sight of you with bruises and stitches wasn’t nearly enough to catch his attention.

“Floyd,” you say with as much patience as you can muster, “I’m seriously hurt. You can’t just—”

“Can’t just what?” He cuts in, suddenly standing to his full height. The lazy grin has vanished, replaced with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His mood has shifted in an instant, his presence growing more imposing as he looms over you, eyes narrowing with a hint of danger. “What’s the big deal? You’re my Shrimpy, aren’t you? I can play with you if I want.”

You take a step back, heart racing as his tone changes from playful to something much darker. This is the part of Floyd that everyone warned you about—the sudden switch from laid-back to terrifying. He doesn’t mean to be threatening, not really, but it’s in his nature. And right now, the look in his eyes makes it clear that he doesn’t quite understand why you’re so upset.

He steps closer, tilting his head curiously as if waiting for you to explain yourself. You’re tempted to turn away, but instead, you hold your ground, even as your pulse quickens under his sharp gaze.

“Floyd, I don’t mind you being playful,” you say carefully, keeping your voice as calm as possible. “But there’s a line. This—” you motion to your arm again “—crossed that line.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Floyd’s eyes flicker down to your arm, and something unreadable flashes across his face. His expression softens, just a little, and he sighs deeply before his grin returns, though this time it’s less wild and more subdued.

“Aw, Shrimpy,” he murmurs, stepping back slightly and slouching as if the energy has drained out of him. “You’re so sensitive sometimes. But I get it, I get it. I went too far this time, huh?”

You blink, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone again. He looks at you with a mixture of mild amusement and something almost like regret, though it’s hard to tell with Floyd. His moods are as unpredictable as the sea, and sometimes you can’t be sure if he’s genuinely sorry or just pretending.

Still, you can tell he’s trying. In his own weird, Floyd way, he’s making an effort to understand your feelings—even if he doesn’t fully get it.

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice softening as the tension starts to ease. “You did go too far. I know you like to mess around, but… I’m not a punching bag, Floyd.”

He laughs at that, a light sound that seems to fill the room. “Nah, you’re not a punching bag, Shrimpy. You’re tougher than that. I was just having some fun, but I guess I didn’t realize how squishy humans can be.”

The word “squishy” makes you cringe, but you let it slide. At least he’s acknowledging the situation, even if it’s in his unusual, Floyd way.

Floyd moves closer again, but this time his touch is gentle. He reaches out, fingers brushing over the bandaged area with surprising care. His expression is hard to read, but the teasing smirk has been replaced by something quieter, almost contemplative.

“Does it hurt a lot?” he asks suddenly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“A little,” you admit, watching him carefully as his fingers linger near the bruise. “But it’ll heal.”

Floyd hums in acknowledgment, his eyes trained on the wound as if it fascinates him. “You’re pretty tough, Shrimpy. I like that about you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Glad to know I’ve earned your approval.”

He grins, sharper now but still playful. “You always have it, Shrimpy. Just don’t go getting too mad at me, okay? I’ll be good next time. Maybe.”

You can’t help but laugh at that—because with Floyd, “next time” will probably end up just like this. But somehow, you don’t mind as much. Floyd’s chaotic nature is part of who he is, and while it can be exhausting, there’s a strange charm to it too. He keeps you on your toes, always guessing, always wondering what mood he’ll be in next.

And right now, as he watches you with a softer gaze than usual, you realize that maybe—just maybe—he’s trying harder than he lets on.

“Just… maybe go easy on the love bites from now on,” you say with a chuckle, nudging him lightly. “I’m running out of bandages.”

Floyd’s grin returns in full force, his eyes gleaming with mischief once again. “No promises, Shrimpy. But I’ll try to keep you in one piece.”

He winks, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel your heart skip a beat. Floyd may be unpredictable and moody, but there’s something undeniably magnetic about him—and even when he’s frustrating, you find it hard to stay mad for long.

With a final playful nip at your shoulder (thankfully not hard enough to leave any more bruises), Floyd leans back, stretching lazily. “Alright, alright, I’ll be good for now. But next time, Shrimpy, you better watch out.”

You roll your eyes again, but there’s a warmth in your chest that wasn’t there before. Despite everything, Floyd has a way of making you feel special—even if his methods are a little… unconventional.

And as he lounges beside you, his mood now seemingly light and carefree once more, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Masterlist

[crystalflygeo]

Kinktober Day 2 - Shibari ft Alhaitham (Genshin Impact)

Google hishi karada under your own risk. That's it. That's the inspiration and GODS I want that hello????//HIT This one ended up longer than expected but also can you believe I wrote almost all of it on the bus/train omw home?? NICE

“Just saying, it’s an interesting use of the House of Daena’s resources. Coming from you, at least.” Alhaitham speaks nonchalantly, eyes glued to the book he’s holding in one hand as the other is currently held by you, crisscrossing red rope in a rather complex pattern as you glance back and forth at the book in your lap.

You give no answer, concentrated in your work. The rope draws lines and presses knots along his bicep, crossing over around the elbow and following down to his wrist.

Not too tight as to hurt.

Your brow frowns with little expression lines as you maneuver the rope into the last knot. This goes here, then pull there, cross here and tighten a little…

“There we go! What do you think?” You smile proudly scooting back a little, hands by your hips.

The Scribe finally diverts his attention from the calculus book he’s reading and looks at his arm with genuine interest, his green and terracotta gaze appraising. 

He flexes his arm a little, testing the give, and tilts his head just slightly as he looks at the pattern from different angles.

“How honest do you want me to be?” He asks simply. It’s a little game you two have.

“Um… 7? 8? It’s my first time, don't be too harsh” You reply with a little pout and puppy dog eyes.

He sighs. As if he could ever live with himself if he made you upset. “It’s not bad at all for a first time. The rope feels a little loose at some parts and the design is not fully uniform but the knots seem sturdy and well-executed. Perhaps you could have picked a simpler design however this one came through really well.” He assesses, sounding a little too much like a teacher but that’s why you find him endearing. Alhaitham is honest and direct. 

“Really? I’m happy then” You beam. “I picked this one because I thought the diamond pattern was pretty… and it kinda fits you” You giggle, turning to the book and gesturing at the drawings and diagrams, blushing a little.

Alhaitham knows how to read between lines. Clearly, you have pictured him tied up like this.

Or perhaps… yourself?

“May I try now?” He asks suddenly, closing his book and setting it aside.

“H-huh?” 

“A fair trade, I was your guinea pig, so now you’ll be mine. And you’ve caught my interest with this.” He says with a casual shrug. His expression as stoic as ever, in a way that no one could read his thoughts.

But you know him better than anyone, and you catch that little glint in his eye. 

“Sure… of course.” You nod dumbfounded.

The two of you undo the knots around his arm and you gather together the strings of rope. Alhaitham picks up the book and quickly flips through the pages with a certain decisiveness. 

He suddenly stops, thinks for a moment, his hand smoothing out the page. “Are you ok with a full chest harness?” 

“Um?” You scoot over and glance at the book. It’s a beautiful design. Doesn’t look too overly complicated but you have learned they can be deceiving in practice. 

It has a diamond design too.

“Ok, I have no issue.” You nod. 

He places the book close by, picks a rope checking the length and starts working. He first loops it around your neck and slowly starts weaving the strands. This one requires almost no knots it seems, just the rope pulling on itself from different angles to keep it balanced and create the diamond shapes.

You watch silently, the scribe checks with you on every step, if it’s too tight, hurting or pulling at something. You shake your head every time. He diligently creates the wrapping around your chest and down your tummy and hips. 

It’s hypnotizing, soothing in a way, but also has your nerves alight. 

Finally he reaches the spot around your crotch and you suddenly feel hyperaware as he loops the rope around your inner thighs, digging on the delicate skin of your groin. The ropes crumple at the skirt of your dress.

You squirm a bit as he ties the final knot behind you. Bringing everything together and securing it. “There, all done.” He declares pulling back a little. “I must admit I’m impressed, looks even better than I expected.” 

You move around and test his handiwork. The rope is snug on your skin, thigh enough it will surely leave light marks for a while, but not enough to be painful or chafe your skin. The sensation is… comfortable, flexible. But also so… noticeable. You feel the slight pressure of them, the teasing pull. They’re just there, impossible to ignore, binding you. And you can see the erotic appeal.

Reverent hands ghost over the patterns of ropes going around your body, teasing you with feather-light touches. ‘Adjusting’ here and there, meticulous, bushing at your chest or pulling at your neck. 

“Alhaitham…” You whine. Keenly aware of your nipples hardening.

“You know, I could loop some more rope going from the back and bind your arms too. Or… add a similar tie at your legs… keeping your thighs and calves together and your legs spread. This diamond pattern has many varieties.”

And so, it dawns on you.

“Y-you… have you read about this before?” 

He chuckles, hands smoothing over your legs as he leans closer to you. “Yes. In fact… I borrowed this exact same book once.” He smirks “When I saw you with it, I knew I simply had to try this tie on you. It rather captivated me back then… but it captivates me much more on you.” 

His thumb rubs over the damp spot in your panties and you squeak, hips bucking.

“Bastard. Mean. Evil. Y-you lied to me!” You sputter, flushed and worked up at having fallen in his trap. Clearly he had planned this from the start and here you are now, all tied up like his prey. His little prize. 

His hand tilts your chin up towards him, his face close making your cheeks even warmer. “I did no such thing.” He says, sounding a little playful even. “Nothing of what I said was untrue, and especially not the part about you looking absolutely enthralling like this.” His eyes roam over your figure, and this time, you see the hunger. 

his fingers hook on the rope between your breasts and he pulls you into his lap.

“Perhaps I should keep you like this for a little longer…”

[arminsesposa]

Always Yours (Izuku Midoriya x Female Reader)

Getting into an argument with ur loved one is NOT fun. Take this small Drabble 🤞🏽

And the 5 Izuku fans cheered !

like and reblogs much much appreciated <3

You and Izuku never argue. He’s the best boyfriend you can ask for. Holding the door, always giving you kisses and hugs, always letting you know that he’s grateful to have you in his life. This time was different. Sure you guys had different opinions but this time was a bit harsher. Izuku has been a bit distant forgetting about you due to his busy schedule and his training. Almost like he forgot about you. You brought it up as you two hung out yet Izuku’s tone seemed like he didn’t care. “Izuku what the fuck?” You asked in disbelief as he carelessly shrugged. “I’ve been busy and we need some space” he said looking at you not realizing what he just said as your heart dropped. He wanted space, you’ll give him space, as you stormed off.

Izuku knew he fucked up. He didn’t mean to be super sassy and rude about it as he watched you grab your bag and leave his dorm. He groaned running his hand through his hair knowing he had to fix this. He knew you like the back of his hand as he gave you some space before deciding to knock on your dorm. “Hey…Can I come in?” He asked softly as he could hear your footsteps approach the door and open it softly. You didn’t say anything as he came in. He took a look at your comfy dorm room and the photo of you two on A date framed on your desk. You sat on your bed as Izuku stood there. “Why are you here” you said bluntly as he froze for a moment, not expecting such a blunt response, he looked at you with a mix of surprise as you caught him off guard "Wait, I just want to talk." He spoke softly, holding his hands up slightly in a gesture of peace. “And I’m gonna nap so goodbye” you responded as you grabbed your blanket ready to ignore him. Izuku frowned slightly, realizing you weren't willing to hear him out. "I understand you're upset, but please, just hear me out. I know I messed up." He persisted gently, not wanting to leave without at least attempting to clear up the misunderstanding.

You were obviously upset. You loved Izuku so much and couldn’t stand arguing with him. So when he approached you with such softness and respect you realized that maybe you were being too harsh. "What I said before, about us needing space... I didn't mean it." He clarified sincerely, his eyes locking onto yours, hoping his words would reach you. You sat up on your bed staring at him realizing how genuine he was being. You didn’t want to be petty and argue over something stupid as your emotions got the best of you. Your eyes watered as he cupped your face gently, and you began to apologize sincerely tears streaming down “I’m sorry for being too harsh-you’ve always loved me and you’re so respectful and put me first-I don’t want to argue over something this small and-“ you rambled as he shook his head gently, dismissing your apology. "No, don’t be sorry. You have every right to be upset." He replied sincerely, his expression softening as he looked at you. “And it’s true, I’ve always loved you. That hasn’t changed, and it never will." He smiled softly at you still looking at your beautiful eyes. As he moved to sit on your bed, finding a comfortable spot together. He gently cupped your face in his hands, holding his gaze with warmth and reassurance. "Listen to me… I may make mistakes, but my love for you is unwavering." He whispered with 100% honesty.

Your gazes met, and the weight of the connection hung in the air. You guys leaned in close, your noses nearly touching."No matter what happens or how difficult things get, my feelings for you remain the same." He whispered softly, his voice filled with truth and affection. He pulled you gently into a heartfelt kiss, their lips meeting in a tender display of affection. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as their emotions intertwined.

"I’ve always been and will always be yours."

He murmured softly against your lips, expressing his unwavering commitment. The love and reassurance between them intensified, erasing any lingering doubts or distance gone, knowing he would always be by your side.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you do angst of ford x reader, where reader was Fords assistant and instead of Stanley pushing ford in, reader does while being possessed by bill.

Stanley is still there and they work hard to repair the portal but when Ford does get back he's really upset at reader because he still thinks that they themselves pushed him in and betrayed him. Ford won't let reader explain themselves, he just tells them to "get out his house"

Part 2 is right here

You didn’t want this.

Then again you weren’t the one to push him, Bill was after tricking you into making a deal with him. You should’ve known better than to put any amount of trust in that chaotic dream demon.

You screamed and shouted for either Ford or Stanley to notice the weirdness in your behaviour, the weirdly inhuman smile that spread across your face, anything as you were forced to watch yourself shove Ford into the portal.

‘BILL!’ You screamed but the demon possessing you acted as though he couldn’t hear you as he relinquished control of your body and let you back in it, just so that the last thing you saw of your dear friend was the look of betrayal upon his face as he disappeared into the portal forever.

‘FORD! No! IM SORRY! IM SO SORRY! IT WASNT ME!’ But Ford couldn’t hear you. He was gone thanks to bill you and you knew they no one would ever believe if you were to tell anyone that a demon did the deed. All they saw was what looked like you but not you in any other aspect that counted; However the fact that you were seen doing the crime was enough to fuel their biases against you regardless, fuelled but their needed to be right in everything, and it was difficult to change a persons mind once it’s made up.

‘It wasn’t me…’ you softly murmured to yourself as you collapsed on the floor of the laboratory as a seething Stanley stood behind you.

‘You pushed my brother.’ He snarled. ‘I saw you.’

You only stayed silent, it was better the beer the brunt of the blame then look like a madman trying to plead as to why they wasn’t true, and besides he wouldn’t believe you even if you did manage to make Bill confess before an audience that he had been the one to push Ford while possessed as you. The demonic bastard was far gone now, cackling at the ridicule you were receiving for his actions.

Stanley, not liking that you were silent, pulled you to face him by the collar of your shirt but before he could berate you further, he caught sight of your defeated face and tear stricken cheeks. ‘Go on, blame me because you would be believe me if I were to tell the truth.’ You said with a voice void of emotion. ‘Blame me all you want but I’m the only person who can help you get the portal up and running again. I’m willing to do so but not for you, but for Ford and in hopes of explaining myself to him and pray that he believes me.’ You add and without warning Stanley drops you on your arse and says in a voice equally devoid of emotion;

‘He’ll never believe you, he’s not that stupid.’

And after that interaction you and Stanley spent the next thirty years of your lives together rebuilding the portal, while Stan still blamed you for pushing his brother into the portal, he’s become more lenient as and when he would remind you of the reason you were doing this in the first place; more specifically during arguments after failed test runs of getting the portal open where he’d say to you in the best of the moment:

‘If it wasn’t for you my brother would still be here!’ Before storming upstairs while you remained in the lab, wasting away the midnight oil because you didn’t believe you deserved sleep after all that. You had grown numb to being Stan’s verbal punching bag, and would often times ignore his attempts to forget what happened and make peace with you, for you knew it wasn’t genuine because after you get his brother back you were more then likely to be kicked out of the shack for you had served your purpose for your crime.

So the relationship between yourself and Stan was never good and you tended to only act civil in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, two kids whom you have grown rather fond of during their stay. You remembered the first night they came here and were in high debate on whether they should stay with Stan or leave, you were quick to intervene and said;

‘Your Grunkle Stan is a wonderful man with a big heart despite his rough exterior. So please give him a chance instead of letting first impressions sway your thinking, you’ll be surprised as a result if you do and besides life is meant to be lived without regrets.’

You were literally the reason they decided to give Stan a chance and stay, but you knew you were never going to get that thank you from him, you were the person who pushed his brother into the portal remember? So you just carried on building the portal with him in awkward silence until the day finally came.

The day that Ford came home.

The day should’ve made you happy, ecstatic even but you knew that wouldn’t be the case for you as the moment Ford came out of the portal your blood ran cold.

He was glaring.

He was glaring at you with such a silent rage that you swore that you could’ve been killed by a state like that. But it was also a stare that told you of the damage your betrayal had caused him, he would never forgive you and that was your biggest fear this entire time, a fear that Stan knew and now it was proven true.

‘Ford-‘

‘Stop.’ He told you, breaking your heart. ‘I don’t want to hear your excuse.’

‘But-‘ you tried again.

‘I said no!’ Ford roared as everyone held their breath, even Stanley who had never heard his brother shout, in that moment he actually felt some remorse for you, some.

‘You’re the reason I was trapped in that portal for THRITY YEARS!’ Dipper and Mabel gasped as they too were now looking at you with hurt in their eyes, which made tears appear in the corner of your own.

‘Is it true Grunkle/graunt y/n?’ Mabel asked as dipper glared at you while keeping his sister as far away from you as he could.

‘No Mabel I-‘ you tried to take a step towards her but Ford was quick to cut you off and level you with a glare. ‘Stay away from my grand niece and nephew.’ He growled and you knew there was no point looking back at Stanley, who had kept uncharacteristically quite this entire time.

‘It’s wasn’t me-‘

‘Then who was it who pushed me then y/n?’ Ford asked.

You remained as silent as the day you let Stanley accused you of the same thing. There was no point in making your case when everyone’s minds have been made up, you were the monster in their story and now they were going to be rid of you once and for all.

‘Who?’ Ford asked again as he seethed, his eyes searching your dead ones for answers that have been in his mind for the past thirty years. You were his friend, he thought he could trust you but he guessed wrong, and now he couldn’t look you in the eyes without seeing the very person who shoved him in the portal with a sicken smile across their face.

Ford couldn’t trust you in the presence of Dipper and Mabel, no one was safe with you as far as he was concerned and he wanted to keep his family safe, even if it meant being rid of you once and for all.

When you didn’t say anything to save yourself, Ford points upwards. ‘Get out of my house, I don’t want to see you ever again. You’ve already done enough damage to this family as there is.’

You didn’t have the energy nor fight left in you to scream, shout or anything, you just swallowed the lump in your throat and moved out of the lab as Mabel and Stanley looked at you sympathetically; whereas Ford and dipper only glared at your retreating back.

‘Grunkle/ graunt y/n?’ Mabel called out to you weakly. You only shot her a small smile and mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ She was always your favourite twin but it was time to say good bye and without another word, you pulled off the bracelet that Mable had made for you and threw it on the floor in front of her.

Mabel looked at the bracelet, then back up at you. ‘I made this for you.’ She tells you with tears in her eyes.

‘You deserve better than to put your trust in me my sweet shooting star, I’m a monster in your grunkles eyes,’ you shot a look towards Stan and Ford who were still staring before looking back at Mable, ‘It’s best that you start seeing me that way too because I only cause pain apparently to some.’ You replied and with that you left the shack and the pines family behind, venturing off into the pathway through the woods with nothing but a hole where you here should’ve been.

There was no point fighting your case to Ford, he wasn’t going to hear it, for he was no batter than everyone else and he just pointed the finger at you without second thought. So much for him being unique when he was just like the rest of them, so much like the rest of them that you find it almost laughable.

You’ll gladly stay out of his life, for whatever Stanford pines wished for, you’ll happily oblige as you were only ever the assistant that betrayed him in the end; a traitor.

[delayed-affection]

hi! new to the blog but really love it :) could you do a Joe Burrow oneshot where reader shows up to a game wearing someone else’s jersey by accident and he gets a little jealous <3

Wrong Jersey

Joe burrow x reader

Oneshots Navigation

Warnings: none?

Word count: 1.5k

You were in a rush when getting ready for one of Joe’s games. Having just got off of work it was hell trying to get ready and leave when you needed to.

Joe made a special request for today’s game and that was for you to wear one of his jerseys.

So you did… Well you thought you did.

When you on your way out you just pulled out one of the many jerseys that he owns. Based on the color you thought it was his LSU one but it was Ja’marr’s.

You didn’t notice until you got to the stadium and someone complemented it. Making you do a double take on the jersey number on your chest.

You think about heading to the team store but it was packed with people. Sighing and head to your seat in the box with his family.

When you finally sit down your phone chimes.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket and unlocking it, opening your message app you see Joe’s name at the top of your screen.

It’s probably just his usual pregame message I think, which usually just consists of wish me luck and I love you’s.

Opening the text, The message reads…

‘Hey babe, I have a small favor to ask.’

You quickly send a message back, ‘Yeah, what is it?’

You watch as the three little dots come up and disappear.

‘So when you got dressed today, you grabbed a jersey, right?’

Fuck, you think to yourself before typing, ‘Yeah, why?’

Already having a feeling that he’s going to ask for a picture.

‘Can you send me a picture of you in the jersey?’

You take a deep breath unsure of how he will react to you having the wrong jersey on. Lifting up your phone you take a quick pic for him.

Snapping a photo and hitting send. Almost instantly he replies.

‘Is that Ja’marr’s jersey?’

You could see the three dots at the bottom of the screen to indicate that he was typing again.

But they disappear and no text comes through.

You try texting a quick apology just in case you had upset him.

‘I’m sorry, it was an accident I’ll triple check next time.’

Sending the text only for it to be left on delivered.

A few moments later the game starts.

Joe is out on the field stretching with the rest of the boys not looking very happy.

The first half of the game, Joe was on fire, making incredible plays and leading the team to a comfortable lead. None of his passes however going to Ja’marr.

Joe heads into the locker room for halftime.

By this point, you’re starting to worry if he’s genuinely upset with you.

After a while, he hasn’t replied to your text message and starts feeling a little bad.

A few minutes later the team comes out of the tunnel and takes the field once again. The game continues with Joe playing even better than he did in the first half.

He’s running more or doing more handoffs, anything but throwing the ball to his right hand man.

Joe was playing incredibly well considering the fact that he hasn’t even thrown a pass in the direction of his usually primary receiver.

The boys manage to secure a 42-21 victory by the end of the game.

The team gets off the field and heads into the locker room while the crowd of Bengals fans and away fans filter out of the stadium.

Unsure if you want to go down and see him or head home and wait for him there.

You sit in your seat for a while until friends and family clear out of the box you’re sitting in. Leaving you alone in the now nearly empty box suite for a few minutes.

Joe still hasn’t replied to your text or even acknowledged you since he saw you in the wrong jersey, leaving you worried about his reaction to seeing you after the game.

After waiting for a while you eventually decide that you’ll start to make your way to the parking lot to head home.

Maybe getting out of the Jersey before he sees you is the best decision of all.

You head over to your car and climb into the driver’s seat. Sitting there for a moment, you pull your jersey over your head and put it into the passenger seat.

You start up the car and begin driving home.

You drive home in silence, listening to the radio on your way there. It’s a quiet drive home, almost eerie.

After pulling up the car in the driveway and turning it off, you get out of the car and head inside.

You enter the house and toss your keys on the counter. Shutting the door behind you.

Knowing you have some time before he gets home you decide to put on an actual shirt and order some of his favorite food.

You change into a simple shirt and put your order in.

Taking a seat on the couch in your living room and trying to relax your nerves in the silence.

Waiting for him to get home.

After a while of quiet, you start to hear noises from outside.

You hear his car pull into the driveway and the engine shut off.

His car door shut followed by the sound of the front door opening and shutting behind him.

Joe walks into the living room and sets his keys and wallet on the coffee table. He does everything but look in your direction.

He finally looks in your direction.

He sees you sitting on the couch and he immediately looks down at what you’re wearing.

“So, you changed.”, he says gruffly.

“I did.”, you nod speaking softly.

He walks over and takes a seat in the chair across from you. There’s a slight tension in the air.

“You know, I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted to see you in my jersey.” He says with a slight tone of annoyance.

“I know, it was a mistake. I put it on without looking at it, I was in rush.” You explain to him.

Joe sighs and rubs his forehead, the irritation showing on his face, “You didn’t even notice that you had on the wrong jersey?”

You shake your head, "Not until I got to the stadium."

"So you're telling me that you walked into that stadium with a jersey that had Ja'marr's name on the back on and you didn't think that it might upset me just a little?" His voice carrying a tone of jealousy.

"It was a pure accident, Joe, I'm sorry." You tell him, “I wouldn’t have done it on purpose.”

"You're sorry?" He asks, lifting his head up.

"Do you know how badly it ticked me off to knowing that you were walking around with that jersey on? You might as well have had one with Mahomes on it."

He let's out a small huff and crosses his arms, "Do you not understand that I wanted to see you in my jersey, not his?"

"I-..." You sigh and stand up, marching over to the bedroom.

He stands up and follows you.

"Where are you going?" He asks, frustration evident in his voice.

Opening the closet and taking out one his jerseys, making sure this one has his last name and number on it.

You slip off your shirt and pull on the jersey.

Joe stands in the doorway as he watches you pull his jersey over your head. He glances up and down, looking you over.

"Is this better for you?" You huff motioning to the jersey.

"It's better than the last one, yes." He says with a slight nod.

He can't deny that seeing you in his jersey didn't make his heart start to beat faster.

It wasn't even a sexual thing, seeing you wear his clothes just made him happy.

He wanted to claim you, he wanted to make sure the world knew that you are his and only his. And you wearing Ja’Marr’s jersey definitely did not get that message across.

He walks over to you and steps closer, towering over you, looking down at you, "Do you understand why it bothered me seeing you in another man's jersey?"

He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, "Because you're mine and I don't want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you."

His hand glides up to your chin and gently lifts your face up, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

The look on his face has changed, the irritation has been replaced with a combination of lust and possessiveness.

The sight of you in his jersey, looking up at him with those innocent eyes, it's making his mind go into a frenzy.

He leans down and plants his lips on your neck.

He kisses up the sensitive skin to your ear.

"You look good in my jersey." He whispered in a low tone, his breath hot against your skin, "Let's keep it that way."

[sturniolospumpkin]

matt’s — m.s. & c.s.

part one // part two // part three // part four

pairing: bf!matt x gf!reader x chris

summary: you ask your boyfriend matt if you he’d ever let you have a threesome. he agrees, not expecting you to pick his brother as your third.

warnings: MDNI—contains smut, unprotected sex (p in v), threesome, oral sex (male receiving), voyeurism, overstimulation, crying, degrading, slapping, masturbation.

this my first fic, feedback is greatly appreciated <3

chris and matt sit in the living room, absentmindedly watching tv when matt speaks.

“you think y/n is pretty?” he asks.

“uh yeah,” chris offers, unsure how to respond, “y/n is pretty.”

“like you’d wanna fuck her?” matt suggests, causing chris to choke on his drink, eyes wide as he coughs.

“what? no that’s not what i meant—” chris defends nervously.

while it was true that chris had fantasized about fucking you on more than one occasion, he genuinely hadn’t meant that in his response to matt’s question about finding you pretty. he didn’t want to upset his brother, he respected your relationship and would never cross a line. you were matt’s and you always would be.

“oh i know” matt clarifies with a smile, “but would you want to fuck her?”

“i—” chris squints his eyes in confusion, shaking his head as he struggles to understand matt’s intent.

“you wouldn’t want to fuck her?” matt questions after watching chris shake his head.

“no i—” chris starts.

“you would want to fuck her?” matt taunts, a smirk painted across his face.

“why are you—” chris asks, frustrated that his brother is clearly messing with him.

“because she wants to fuck you,” matt responds nonchalantly, “so i was just seeing if you’d want to fuck her.”

chris freezes at matt’s words, his heart racing as he processes the fact that you want to fuck him. his mind wanders at the thought, envisioning you riding his dick, your pretty tits bouncing with every movement of your hips. or you on all fours in front of him, back arched as he pounds into you over and over. but then he realizes—matt is definitely fucking with him.

“hilarious matt.” chris chuckles trying to ignore his now hardening dick.

matt doesn’t respond, instead he pulls out his phone and opens up an app. he passes it to chris, the screen showing a conversation between you and matt:

so you want me and chris to fuck you at the same time?

if you were both okay with it.

i told you i don’t mind baby. i’m sure he won’t complain. you sure about this before i ask him?

positive

————————————————————————

chris’s jaw falls, his mouth wide open as he rereads the messages multiple times to make sure he’s not going crazy.

“dude do you not know how to read?” matt laughs, pulling chris’s attention from the phone, “so you wanna fuck my girl or what?”

“you serious?” chris asks, mouth still open in disbelief.

“mhm, whatever she wants.” matt nods.

“holy shit” chris mutters, the tent in his pants growing at the thought of finally fucking you, “yeah.”

“cool i’ll let her know.” matt says casually before returning his attention back to the tv.

chris stares at his brother, dumbfounded. for as long as you and matt have been together, chris has always known matt to be incredibly possessive over you. chris knew from sharing a wall with matt that you were into some kinky shit, but never in a million years did he think you’d want to fuck your boyfriend’s brother. admittedly, chris has thought about fucking you more times than he can could count. he has shamefully jerked off to the thought of you, your body, your lips, your touch, on numerous occasions. he was attracted to you from the moment he and his brothers met you back in boston, but matt unknowingly beat chris to making a move on you. so from then on you were always just his brother’s hot girlfriend that he couldn’t have—until now. his mind raced with questions and confusion. how long had you wanted to fuck him? had you felt the same attraction to him all these years? was it him that you actually wanted, but matt asked you first, so you settled for him? chris wondered if you’d ever thought of him while touching yourself. he couldn’t wait to see your pussy— to fuck it, maybe even taste it if matt let him. he wondered if you fantasized about him when you were fucking matt, after all they’re identical.

chris spent the next few days riddled with anxiety, wondering when you and matt would act on the previous discussion. whenever you came over, he spent most of the time in his room trying to avoid you at all costs. it’s not that didn’t want to fuck you, or that he was having second thoughts, he just didn’t know how he could possibly have a normal interaction with you now knowing you want to fuck him.

he was watching tv in his room one day when he heard you and matt leave. “finally” he thought to himself, eager to leave his room and get a snack. he hopped off his bed and made his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to find something when a voice startles him.

“hi chrissy” you greet him from the couch.

“jesus fuck—” he curses, startled by your presence, heat rising to his cheeks at the nickname, “sorry, you— i thought you and matt left—”

“oh we we’re just grabbing our doordash order that was delivered.” you smiled.

“oh.” is all he manages to say, unable to think straight at the sight of you, “uh— where’s matt?”

“he’s just using the bathroom.” your smile falters and your brows furrow at chris’s unusual behavior, “you okay?”

“me? yeah, no i’m good.” he stammers, offering you an exaggerated smile.

“you sure? you seem tense, and i haven’t seen you in a few days. did i do something?” you ask innocently.

chris’s face twists with confusion— you had to be messing with him right? did matt not discuss their conversation with you? he shakes his head, not wanting to worry you.

“no, no, just uh— just been busy with work ’s all.” he lies turning his attention back to the fridge in hopes that you won’t be able to read his lying eyes.

“oh, okay.” you respond, “so it’s not because matty told you i want you to fuck me?”

his eyes widen at your words, jaw dropping as he quickly turns around to see you smirking at him from your spot on the couch. before he can respond, matt enters the living room.

“hey chris” he smiles cheerfully making his way to the arm rest of couch, until he sees chris’s face. his brows furrow as he let’s out a soft chuckle, “you alright kid? y’look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“i—” chris struggles to form a response, staring between you and his brother.

the tension in matt’s brows releases as he pieces together what you and chris were talking about.

“ohhh” matt’s animated tone is not lost on chris, “is this about what y/n said?”

too overwhelmed to come up with another lie, chris nods his head in response.

“well she’s been asking about you all week, but you’ve been ignoring us.” matt smiles turning his head to you, “she was starting to think you changed your mind. did you?”

the two of you stare at chris who stands frozen in the kitchen, eyes shifting between you. he runs a hand through his hair and swallows the lump in his throat before shaking his head.

“no.” his voice is strained.

your boyfriend nods before turning to smile down at you, “what do you say babe? gonna let chris fuck you?”

you nod eagerly, watching chris run his fingers through his hair again as his cheeks continue to redden.

“get upstairs then pretty girl.” matt bends over, offering you a kiss on the forehead.

you jump off the couch with a smile and head upstairs. matt’s eyes are trained on his brother, whose eyes are trained on your every move up the staircase.

you make your way into matt’s room, heart racing with a mix of excitement and anxiety as you await the boys’ arrival. you contemplate taking your clothes off, but decide against it, wanting chris to undress you instead. you sit in the center of matt’s bed, mind spinning at the realization that you are about to fuck your boyfriend and his brother. your thoughts linger on chris, wondering what he’s like in bed, what his dick looks like, what he’s into. despite matt’s reserved nature and shy demeanor, he’s has always been the dominant one in your sex life. you’ve always chalked the stark contrast up to him being such a people pleaser, eager to do and try whatever you ask, even if he is apprehensive. which is exactly how you ended up in this situation—about to be used by him and his brother.

you’re sitting next to matt on his bed as he stares at the tv in front of him, deeply engrossed in his video game. you twiddle with your thumbs, heart racing with a bit of anxiety before you finally decide to bring up the idea you’ve been thinking about.

“would you ever wanna have a threesome?” you blurt out.

“uh no. i'd never want to touch another girl, but if you wanted to touch her—” matt starts before you cut him off.

“no um—actually i was thinking another guy, if you would be okay with it?” you respond, eyes falling to your lap.

“oh, i mean i've thought about it before, letting another guy fuck you. i honestly think it would be kind of hot. if you're sure you want to.” matt confesses.

heat rises to your cheeks at his words and you can only nod in response.

“did you have someone in mind? i'd want you to feel safe, not with some fucking rando.” he asks.

you sit in silence. you do have someone in mind, but can't bring yourself to say it aloud. but you know the worst thing matt can do is say no. he wouldn't break up with you for suggesting it right? you finally find the courage to speak.

“um—maybe uh—chris?” you squeak out, barely audible.

matt pauses the game, turning to you with a look of concentration as he processes your words.

“chris—like, my brother chris?” matt asks slowly.

“i—no i'm sorry that a stupid suggestion, i was just thinking—” you babble, trying to retract your suggestion.

“no, it’s not stupid.” matt reaches a hand out to grab your face gently, rubbing his thumb along your cheek, “would you feel safe with chris?”.

eyes dropping from his, you nod your head.

“okay baby i’ll talk to him then. you sure this is what you want? you can change your mind at anytime.” matt coos.

“yeah, if you’re really okay with it.” you answer softly.

matt nods, pulling you into his lap for an hug, his hands running up and down your back softly, “i trust him more than i’d probably trust anyone else. i don’t have a problem with it. i promise.”

you're pulled from your thoughts when matt's bedroom door creaks open. matt walks in first, chris following timidly behind. chris's behavior over the past days is new to you. the usually cocky, confident, loud boy is now quiet and withdrawn, isolating himself from you and his brothers.

matt walks toward the bed smiling down at you.

"hi baby, y’ready?" matt asks tucking a loose hair behind your ear.

you nod, eyes shifting to chris who hasn't moved from the center of the room, as if he's afraid to get too close to the bed.

matt leans forward, whispering in your ear low enough that only you can hear, “you sure you want this baby? you can change your mind at any time. you're in control here.”

he pulls back from your ear, face hovering in front of yours as he awaits a response. you nod your head, before speaking knowing he'll want verbal confirmation.

“yes i'm sure matty.” you whisper.

matt grins with pride, leaning in to give you a quick kiss before speaking again.

“why don't you show chris how good that pretty little mouth is first?” matt asks, turning to chris, “chris come sit down, she won't bite.”

chris slowly makes his way over to the bed, taking a seat next to you, his back resting against the headboard. you scoot back until you’re directly next to him, scanning his face. his cheeks are still rosy, lips parted slightly, as his eyes frantically roam your body. he’s so nervous.

“can i kiss you?” heat rising to your cheeks as you bite your lip.

chris nods. your heart rate quickens as you place a hand on his cheek and lean in before giving yourself any time to second guess. his soft lips meet yours and you instantly melt into him. your mouths move in sync with ease, a moan leaving him when your hand makes it’s way to his hair, giving it a gentle tug. the action sets something off inside of him, his demeanor changes as his fingers move from his lap into your hair, gripping it and tilting your head to deepen this kiss. his tongue finds the inside of your mouth, roaming every inch as if this is his only chance to kiss you. a pathetic moan escapes you when he tugs your bottom lip between his teeth. he eventually pulls back, both of you panting as you attempt to catch your breaths. you’re suddenly aware of the dampness between your thighs as you take in the sight of chris in front of you. his lips are swollen and shiny with spit, and his hair disheveled as he stares at you with lust filled eyes. you turn your attention to matt who sits at the foot of the bed, his hand squeezing his dick through his pants as he nods for you to continue.

you shift to lay on your stomach in front of chris, head hovering over his lap.

“can i touch you?” you ask looking up at him.

“fuck—yes, please.” he licks his lips

you quickly pull his sweatpants down before tossing them aside. the outline of his hard dick is prominent through his grey boxers. you place your hand over his clothed dick, hips jolting at the contact before you begin palming him slowly. he let’s out a groan in response, eyelids fighting to stay open at the pleasure of your actions. you slowly pull down his boxers to reveal his hard dick, tip already leaking precum. a moan leaves his lips when your eyes flicker up to his face.

“fuck, don’t look at me like that” he whines.

“like what chrissy?” you ask, taking his dick into your hand.

“look—looking up at me—like that” he stutters as you begin to stroke him.

“i don’t know what you mean chrissy” you tease before licking up his shaft.

“please pretty girl” he begs.

that’s all you need to hear before you engulf him in your mouth, nose touching his pelvis as you take every inch.

“oh my— fuuuuck” chris moans, relishing the feeling of your warm throat.

you begin slowly bobbing your head up and down his thick cock, tongue swirling with every movement. you were so eager to please him, but couldn’t deny that you were also thoroughly enjoying this as you feel yourself soaking through your panties. you squeeze your thighs together, hoping to satisfy the throbbing between your legs. your mouth moves quicker, letting him hit the back of your throat over an over again. a series of moans leave you as you lose yourself in the arousal of the moment.

“ahh— shit— feels so fucking good sweetheart.” chris praises, throwing his head back in pleasure.

“isn’t she so good at sucking cock?” matt smiles with pride.

matt was enjoying this a lot more than he expected. he was well aware of your talents in the bedroom, but watching someone else— his brother no less—experience you was satisfying to him simply because no matter how good you made his brother feel, you were still matt’s girl, only matt’s. every noise chris made only inflated matt’s ego, knowing that chris wanted what matt had. you were so fucking good, and you belonged to him.

“god she’s unbelievable.” chris praises, a hand moving to grab your hair gently.

“just wait ‘til you feel her pussy.” matt laughs, unzipping his jeans to relieve some of the pressure from his growing bulge— a result of the sight in front of him.

you continue sucking chris, adding your hand to accompany the movements of your mouth along his dick. he’s a squirming mess, a mixture of whines and moans leave his mouth as you show his dick no mercy. he tries to hold out, not wanting the pleasure of your mouth to conclude, but he’s unable to contain himself at your actions. his hips are bucking and twisting, which only makes it harder for him to hold out as his dick reaches the deepest parts of your throat. he feels himself losing control, his body beginning to tremble.

“shit shit shit— gonna cum.” chris warns, his grip on your hair tightening.

he finally snaps, cum shooting into the back of your throat as a string of curses leaves his mouth. you suck up the remnants of his cum as you pull your mouth off, eyes looking up at him. his heavy eyes stare back at you, cheeks flushed and mouth parted as he pants from exhaustion. his hand drops from your hair to rest on your cheek, thumb tracing over your swollen lips. the look in his eyes saying everything you need to know.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good.” he breathes, thumb still tracing your lips as they curve into a smile.

“please” you whine.

he sits you up, fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt before glancing up at you.

“can i take this off?” he asks, receiving an immediate nod from you.

he pulls off your shirt, revealing your breasts to him.

“no bra sweetheart?” he chuckles.

you shake your head— you'd honestly forgotten you weren't wearing one.

“mmm so pretty.” he hums as his eyes shift between each of your breasts.

his right hand reaches down to knead one of your breasts, the left hand finding the other as he runs his thumb over your nipple. your eyes flutter at the sensation, earning another chuckle from chris. he pulls his hands back, shifting to stand along the side of the bed.

“all fours for me sweetheart.” chris orders, his blue eyes peering down at you sitting beneath him on the bed.

you eagerly comply, turning to position yourself on your knees and elbows, your eyes meet matt who sits in front of you on the bed. your gaze shifts to the wet spot in his boxers, precum leaking through as he continues palming himself.

“you sure you want this?” chris asks softly from behind you.

you turn your head to see him before nodding eagerly.

“need to hear you say it sweetheart.” he sighs, wanting to be absolutely sure you are okay with this.

“yes chrissy i want it, please. please fuck me.” you whine, chris groaning at your response as he runs a hand through his hair.

“good girl” matt praises, grabbing your attention as he gets up from the bed to stand in front of you. his eyes never leave you as he pulls down his jeans and boxers, freeing his dick before giving it a few slow strokes. “gonna suck my cock while my brother fucks your little pussy?”

his vulgar words pull a pornographic moan from you, jaw dropping as the sounds leave you. you catch a glimpse of matt sending a nod to chris, before they suddenly push into you at the same time, stuffing you at both ends. it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced. you knew you wouldn't last very long, and chris shared the same sentiment.

“sweetheart you're so fucking tight,” he gritted, eyes squeezed shut, “dude i need a second or i’m gonna cum.”

matt laughs at his brother's comment, before smiling down at you. his hand moves through your hair lazily as he waits, eyes filled with lust as he admires how pretty you look in your current state.

“you're so pretty” matt's smiles grows, “especially with my cock in your mouth.”

his eyes shift to his brother across from him, who must signal to proceed, because matt’s grip on your hair suddenly tightens and you feel chris begin to slowly thrust in and out of you. you slowly adjust to his size, the burn of the initial stretch soon disappearing, leaving only pleasure. the feeling is absolutely euphoric as you bounce between the two of them. every thrust of matt’s hips pushes you back onto his brother’s dick, and every thrust of his brother’s hips send matt’s dick to the back of your throat. their speed continues to increase, as if competing to see who can fuck harder.

“pussy feels fucking amazing sweetheart.” chris’s praise is followed by a deep moan.

“you hear that baby? say thank you.” matt commands.

“thank you chrissy!” you exclaim

you’re so fucked out between the two of them, absolutely loving every second of it. the room is filled with the squelching sounds of chris fucking your soaked pussy and matt fucking your mouth. matt’s stares down at you, eyes dark, as he continues the assault on your throat. your face is a mess, spit pooling down your chin and mascara running down your cheeks— matt absolutely loves it. you barely have time to register his hand in the air before it comes down, slapping your cheek. a moan leaves you but is stifled by his dick down your throat. matt smiles and you hear chris moaning from behind you as he fucks into you.

chris wanted to do so much more. he wanted to put a hand around your throat, maybe give you a few slaps to the face like his brother did, and he wanted to say the filthiest shit to you. but he couldn’t, not under his brother’s scrutiny, he felt like he was walking on eggshells, though he was grateful to even have this experience.

“taking us so well baby, you love being stuffed at both ends don’t you?” matt hums.

“fuck— yes” you whine, pussy clenching around chris.

“she’s fucking perfect” chris hums, he isn’t just talking about the sex.

warmth pools in your lower abdomen and you know you won’t last much longer. the pleasure of their actions combined with the filth of the situation is too much for you. tears flow profusely as chris’s dick hits your cervix and matt’s dick bruises the back of your throat.

matt can tell you’re close, pulling out of your mouth briefly as your body shakes so the brothers can hear you fall apart.

“that’s it baby, cum all over chris’s cock.” matt demands in a patronizing tone and you hear chris groan before you let go.

you cum with a shout, ears ringing and vision going fuzzy as matt fucks back into your mouth. the whimpers that leave you as you ride out your high send chris over the edge.

“so good sweetheart—fuck im gonna cum” chris announces.

“not inside her.” matt warns.

you feel chris pull out of you before warm spurts of cum land on your ass as chris moans a repetition of your name and profanities. matt is the last to finish, shooting his cum into your mouth with a groan, hand still tangled firmly in your hair. you collapse on the bed in exhaustion.

moments later matt let’s out a breathy chuckle before you hear a slap. you wince, expecting to feel the familiar stinging sensation, but you feel nothing. you look up in confusion to see the brothers retracting their hands back from above your head— they fucking high-fived each other.

smiling and panting, matt pulls out of your mouth slowly before bending over and offering you a kiss on the forehead.

“did so good for us baby” he praises, moving your hair off your sweaty neck, “you okay?”

“better than okay” you smile exasperated.

he places a kiss on your cheek and leaves the room to grab a rag to clean you up. chris collapses onto the bed, carefully pulling you over to lay on his chest and wrapping his arms around you.

“i can't believe you're real.” chris breathes, placing a quick kiss on your forehead.

you giggle at his words as matt enters the room with a washcloth in hand, gently cleaning you up before tossing it in the hamper. he stands over the bed staring at the sight of his brother holding you, feeling a wave of jealousy wash over him. chris fucking you with matt was one thing, but he didn't need to be cuddling you as if you were his girl.

“alright chris.” matt speaks up causing chris to open his eyes.

chris feels the irritation in matt's tone before he sees it in matt's face. the message is clear, “get off my girl and get out”. feeling the tension, chris gently moves you off of him, before standing up and turning to see you sprawled out on the bed.

“that was absolutely incredible, thank you” chris smiles before turning to glance at his brother, whose face still carries the look of irritation.

chris walks out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving you and your boyfriend alone. matt looks down at you to see you smiling up at him.

“thank you matty.” you hum, his expression instantly softening at your voice.

“had a good time baby?” he asks.

you quickly nod your head in response. a grin tugs his lips at your reaction—he just loves seeing you happy. sitting in silence for a moment, he contemplates his next words— contemplates if he means them. he nods, moreso to himself, before speaking again.

“good baby, maybe we’ll do it again.” he suggests.

“really?” you question, eyesbrows raised.

“yeah i mean, if you want to, and if chris wants to.” he clarifies.

you slowly nod your head, trying to downplay your excitement. how did you get lucky enough to fuck your hot boyfriend and his hot brother?

a/n: thanks for reading! i was so nervous to post this, i hope you guys enjoyed it 🙈 i have part two and three of this fic already drafted— will be posting within the next few days.

[acotarxreader]

Pancake

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Celebrating Feyre's 21st with a large party at the House of Wind proves to be quite triggering for you as you battle with the demons that followed you out of Under the Mountain.

Warnings: Panic attack (claustrophobia) followed by super fluff

A/N: This is really a cute fic, maybe one of my favourites. Reader has a panic attack so proceed with caution or don't at all if you think this may upset you! Let me know what you think!

P.S laughing that after Jilted I said I'd give you a more silly goofy fic and then produce this 👀 next one I promise!👀

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Fifty years. Fifty years you and Rhysand were separated from your family. Days dripping into weeks, into months, into years. Birthdays, Starfalls, and Solstices lost to the mountain. You had both been reunited with your family for a year now, your first Winter Solstice as a family again. You stood on the balcony watching your friends dance and drink and be free, Rhysand having thrown a large party for Feyre's 21st birthday. A genuine smile grew at the sight of such joy, all on their way to becoming whole again. Your eyes found Feyre and Rhysand drifting up the stairs towards a secluded balcony, your smile doubling in size at the mischievous grin plastering your cousin's face. 

“Don’t you look radiate YN” You turned to look down at Azriel at the bottom of the grand staircase. 

“Don’t I always Az” he nodded in agreement, closing in the distance between you, you had missed him deeply, never thinking you’d have the pleasure of dancing with your best friend again. Azriel had spent your time away from him in utter torment, echoed in his friend's mutual feelings of uselessness at the loss of the two of you.

“Azriel, there you are! Come watch the surprise with me, fireworks I believe” Elains little voice came from behind Azriel, he turned happily towards her, a pang of jealousy beating through you. Before the Mountain took you from your family you and Azriel were quickly developing into more but something cracked in you, you couldn’t find your way back to him when you were freed. He gave you the space you needed to recover and in that time found a new obsession in Elain and you accepted that you may never be fixed but Elain could be. 

“Would you like to come too YN?” you sensed the undertone of pity from Elain that Azriel would never see as anything other than her caring. You tried to keep the smile on your face, faltering for a moment before returning to full strength. 

“I’m actually going to get a drink from inside, but go ahead” You looked up at the night sky, such beauty you missed so much, Azriel looked at you with the same sentiment before following Elain back down the steps. 

You entered the House Of Wind through the gigantic doors, caterers frantically ran from place to place holding various trays and jugs. You ducked and dove avoiding the chaos, no one noticed you as you moved through the mayhem, your speciality. You took a flute of champagne from a passing tray before catching a glimpse of your face in a large silver serving dish. You looked tired, still not yourself a year later.

You headed into the closest bathroom in a service hallway, gently pining up fallen strands of hair. You sighed into the mirror of the small room, feeling the mask slip for a moment before you righted it again, forcing the fake smile so as not to make others uncomfortable.

Your hand moved to the door handle, shaking it gently when you found it did not give under your touch. You pushed the door, it solidly pushing back. You tried to squash the rising panic in your throat, this is fine this is fine this is fine you repeated over and over like a mantra in your mind.

You lowered yourself to look out the keyhole to find solid wood staring back at you. They had blocked you in with a large, solid, service trolley, wider than the door you tried to push through. You banged on the door with your palms, calling out for anyone, the shouts getting lost in the bedlam of the service hallway before it emptied entirely, the staff going to watch the show. 

You backed away from the oak, trying to catch your fleeting breath. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. The word roaring in your head, dizzying dread coming to a boiling point in you. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. 

Suddenly a loud bang was set off, and another and another. You found yourself collapsing to the freezing floor of the forgotten bathroom, screaming to match the pitch of the fireworks outside. You clung your knees into your chest before beginning to frantically paw your ears trying to stop the drumming. Your fingers matting into your hair, making it a knot in the chaos of trying to block the sound. You were hyperventilating as the fireworks came on with more fierceness. You were drowning. You were back Under The Mountain. You were back to being out of control. Back to being being kept deep within the earth, the sound of Fae being tortured mimicked in the booming fireworks.

“YN!” through the thick choking energy of your fear, a familiar voice came like a lifeboat in a storm but you were gone to the sea. Gone to the panic. Drowning. Drowning. Drowning. Steady, scared hands reached for your tangled hands pulling them from clawing your ears, out of blurry vision you saw the opened door, the towering service trolley smashed to the ground as Azriel clung to your hands. You tried to dive for the gap, off balance from the panic, unable to lift yourself from your seat, you fell onto your side on the tile, the thud of your chin echoing in Azriels ears. 

“YN! You’re okay you’re okay!” he pulled you upright and rubbed the back of your hands as your tormented eyes found him through the floods of tears. He counted quietly in rhythm, helping you to steady your breathing but the flashbacks of that horrid place and great loss ran through your mind like a runaway train. This was Azriel. Azriel. Azriel. This was home. Home. You were home. Another booming firework was set off, plunging you back to being drowned. Azriel stood, plucking you from the ground like a discarded rag doll before he dissolved you both in shadows. 

The two of you landed with control on the bridge that crossed the Sidra. The sound of the fireworks merely bursts in the distance. Your hands lay flat on the cold stone of the bridge and then you were violently ill, vomiting into the rushing river below as Azriel rubbed your back with one hand and held your hair gently in the other. You then sailed to the ground, your back resting against the freezing stone, waves of panic replaced with equal volumes of exhaustion. Silence swaddled you like comfort, shadows softly sweeping away stray tears as they fell. You found a small smile tug at the corners of your mouth at them, Azriel’s muscles relaxing at the sight.

“Thank you Az” you managed to breathe out.

“Please don’t thank me, it's my job to-to protect you” You rolled your head along the stone to look towards the shadowsingers soft gaze. You leaned into his side, gazing up to your beloved Velarian sky, your heart rate returning to softening levels. 

“YN ho-how often does that happen you?”

“More than I want to admit Az, I feel like I haven’t slept in 50 years” you admitted, his hand wrapping into yours.

“Go back to the party Az, Elain will be wondering where you ran to”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you, c’mon let's walk home” he smiled, standing and pulling you up to meet him, his hand slotting in around your waist to support your weakened legs. You both began to stroll in the direction of Azriel’s disused apartment, more often than not he opted to stay in The House of Wind or the Town House rather than sleep alone in his house. But tonight, those places were in the thick of the loud celebration, his secluded apartment on the other side of the Sidra a haven from the revelry. You didn’t object to this knowing you hadn’t it in you to go back into the bustling city. 

You followed Azriel into his small studio apartment, and he immediately set about cleaning the space you hadn’t been in in 51 years. 

“Sorry for the mess” He threw stray clothes into a basket as you looked around the place you didn’t think you’d ever see again, the mess of forgotten projects and clothes a new feature for the normally regimented Illyrian. 

“I umm didn’t come here much when you were-when you were gone” he admitted before flicking his wrist and the sheets of the bed changed. 

“Why not? You used to love to brood up here” you grinned, sitting on the edge of the soft cotton sheets. Azriel threw his suit jacket over a chair and began rolling his shirt sleeves up, without taking his eyes from you, his own smile matching yours. You suddenly felt conscious of the mess of now matted hair and make-up down your face, your hand wiping the smudges of kohl away from under your eye. 

“To be honest YNN, it felt wrong here without you, the whole of Velaris did” he crossed the room to the dresser, reaching into the top drawer to pull out one of your night sets.

“I can’t believe you still have some of my things here”

“I kept them for when you would come back…I never let myself think that you weren’t coming back to me” You took the set from him, smiling softly before moving to change in the bathroom, leaving the door open as Azriel threw a pillow for himself on the couch, snapping his fingers and changing into his own night attire. He tried not to let his eyes linger on you as you moved towards his bed for the first time in forever before you layed down in the buttery sheets.

“Az-Can you-Can you sleep here next to me, I know it might be weir-” You didn’t get to finish as Azriel needed no further invitation, sinking into the bed alongside you. He merely snapped his fingers and the lights dropped only to have one in the corner of the room stayed lit for your comfort. 

“Are you feeling okay YNN?”

“Mmm, thanks for leaving the light on” you hummed in response.

"It's for me as much as you, I share you're sentiment about being kept in the dark" you nuzzled gently into his side at his heartbreaking words and for the first time in so long you knew you’d sleep with nothing but ease.

“I missed you so much my love” He whispered into your hair, sleep taking full hold of you as he kissed your forehead and found yourselves sleeping the best he had in 51 years. 

-

For the rest of the night you both stayed in cuddled bliss, the world going on around you but the only place that mattered was the world you had both made in his apartment. 

The light came through the slots of the blinds hitting his eyes as he woke and rested his chin on the top of your head as you were deeply cuddled into him, the clock showing 8:30am. He gently pulled from you as you groaned but still unable to open you’re world-weary eyes. 

-

You shot up in the bed to the sound of a crash, for a moment forgetting where you were only to laugh at the recoiling Illyrian holding a frying pan while wincing in the kitchen across from you, his wings coated in a thin layer of flour. 

“What the fuck Az?” you found yourself laughing before rubbing your hands down your face and glancing at the clock as it showed 10am.

“Don’t laugh at me, I’m trying to be be cute!” You raised an eyebrow, throwing your legs over the side of the bed and standing. Your mouth fell open at the full sight of the destroyed kitchen. Every single surface covered in various baking ingredients. You walked cautiously towards the floury disarray before looking into a bowl of what you presumed started as pancakes. You attempted to move the whisk in the batter, it stuck to the bowl like a stick in cement. 

“Az, what possessed you to try to poison me?” you laughed so heartily it made Azriels heart leap. 

“I was trying to comfort you” he genuinely seemed embarrassed, your hand going to his cheek, wiping away flour freckles. 

“I love that you’re such an adorable dork” You shook your head gently grinning. 

“I love you” Your hand slowly dropped from his face in almost shock at his words. 

“I love you so fucking much YN, I hated myself every day you were gone for not saying it and for the past year I wanted to but I didn’t want to add to any stress you might be holding on to-”

“-You could never make me stress Az…unless you make me eat this” you laughed and his eyes beamed at the sound he wished to only hear for the rest of his life. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he happily leaned into the kiss. Home. This was home and this was Azriel. 

“I love you too” you breathed against his lips, his hands meeting your hips before dropping to the backs of your legs and lifting you from the ground. Your legs wrapped around him as you caught hold of his t-shirt, deepening the kiss further, for the first time in a year you felt the deep crack in your soul begin to stitch together again. The kiss grew hungrier as Azriel angled you to hover you above the counter before gently putting you down. 

“ARGH!” you shrieked as the freezing cold pancake batter he put you down on soaked immediately through your shorts. You leapt from the counter with lightning speed, trying to pull the fabric from your skin as Azriel roared with laughter. 

“Something funny flour face?” you said through rising laughter as Azriel tried to collect himself. 

“If you get a chance do you think you could take some of the batter off your shorts and make breakfast” you lightly scoffed at his words before taking a fist of batter and clapping it right into his chest. 

“Oh you’re so dead YN!” he howled at the cold through tears of laughter, grabbing the bowl and proceeding to chase you around his house, your home. 

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Hehe, whatcha think!

[letstrip13]

💐 - stood up

summary: when you get stood up on your first date, you call your best friend to come pick you up. but instead of taking you home, he has a better plan.

warnings: none, just fluff!

word count: 1,571

author's note: reupload!! also new christmas acc theme!!

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you bring your phone up to your ear, listening to it ring and waiting for him to pick up. you pace around a little in the parking lot of a small italian restaurant. the cold breeze makes you shiver in your dress and heels, and you regret even wanting to go on this date. you took the time applying your makeup and styling your hair to perfection.

but the date never happened. you got stood up. you waited around for almost twenty minutes before you got the text from your date. all it said was, “sorry, can't make it. something came up.” but you knew nothing came up. just a few minutes ago, he posted on his snapchat story. he was with another girl. he not only stood you up, but he stood you up for someone else.

one ring, two rings, three rings. finally, you hear chris’ voice on the other end. “hello?” he says in a confused tone. “i thought you were on your date.”

“not anymore,” you tell him, holding back tears. “can you come get me?” “yeah, of course. i'm on my way.” he hangs up and you send him your location.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

chris’ pov: i grab my keys and wallet before rushing out of the house, ignoring my brothers calling after me, asking why i’m leaving in such a hurry. you’re the only thing on my mind right now. it sounded like you were fighting tears. you’re my best friend and i want to do everything in my power to make you happy.

i drive to the location you sent me as fast as i can and i pull into the deserted parking lot. the only one there is you, sitting on the curb in your dress and heels, looking so sad yet so beautiful at the same time. i park and get out of the car, quickly coming over to sit next to you. i wrap my arm around you, gently rubbing your arm and shoulder. “hey, what happened?” the way you look up at me, your eyes glossing over with tears, makes my heart ache.

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you look up at him, trying your best not to cry. you know he hates to see you upset like this. you unlock your phone and open it to the “sorry, can't make it” text. he takes the phone from you, eyebrows furrowing as he reads it. “really? he didn't even give you a reason?” you take your phone back. “oh, it gets worse.” you go onto snapchat and open his story before passing it to chris. you watch as his jaw clenches, a subtle but clear sign that he's mad.

“i can't fucking believe this guy,” he exclaims as he hands your phone back to you. “i don't understand how he could do that to you. it's his loss though, you look beautiful.” you smile at chris, a genuine smile, he always knows how to cheer you up. “thank you. and you're right, i can do better.”

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chris’ pov: there's a few moments of silence before i take a deep breath and speak up again. “listen, i have an idea. i know that neither of us have ever been on a real date, but i want to take you out on one.”

i watch as you shake your head. “no, it's okay. i think i should just go home. i just wasn't meant to go on a date tonight.” i run my hand through my hair. “please? you deserve to be taken out on a real date.”

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you think it over for a moment before you end up agreeing. he takes your hand as the both of you stand up and he holds it the whole way to his car, only letting go to open the door for you. you both get in and get comfortable. “so, where are we going, princess?”

the nickname catches you off guard a little, but it's sweet that he's calling you that. “honestly, i kind of feel like just going to a drive-thru.” he chuckles as he starts the car, not expecting that to be your answer. “alright, whatever you want.” he starts the car and starts driving around the city.

he pulls into a drive-thru lineup of a place you both agreed on. the line moves fast and before you know it, you're holding the bag of food while he's driving to some sort of mystery spot.

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chris’ pov: i know the perfect spot to take you. i like coming here to have a moment alone with my thoughts, and it has an amazing view. by the time we get there, the sun has just started to set. it's completely deserted, not far from the beach. we eat our food, talking and laughing between bites. it seems like you completely forgot about the other guy and it puts me at ease to see that.

after we finish eating, we watch the sun go down, enjoying the comfortable silence between us. you check your phone and i don't pay any mind to it, deciding to check mine too. i glance over and notice that you're on snap, more specifically, his snap. i snatch your phone out of your hand before you can check his story. “nope, you're not doing that. forget about him. he's not good enough for you.”

“i wasn't even going to-” “shhh, i know what you were doing.” you're silent for a moment. “what if i get back at him?” “and how would we do that?” i ask with an amused smirk.

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“i could post us on my story. he doesn't know who you are, so he'd think i'm on a real date.” he scoffs, pretending to be offended, “wow, not a real date, huh? i thought we had something, princess.” you nudge his shoulder with yours, causing him to smile after trying to hold it back.

you take your phone back from him and go onto snapchat to take the picture for your story. he leans in close to you as you get the camera angle just right. suddenly, he turns his head and plants a wet kiss on your cheek, just as you hit the button. you weren't expecting it, but it came out perfectly. “ew, chris, it's slobbery!” you giggle. he laughs too and posts the picture to your story for you.

“wanna go for a walk on the beach?” he asks. “sure, sounds fun.” he gets out of the car first and as he shuts his door, he notices your hand on the door handle. “wait!” he climbs over the hood of his car, almost falling in the process as you laugh at his ridiculous gesture. he opens the car door for you, a goofy grin on his face. you step out of the car, thanking him between fits of laughter. “you could've just went around, you know.” “i didn’t think of that.. it was more fun that way anyways.”

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chris’ pov: we make our way down to the beach and we walk along the shoreline, stopping every now and then to admire the clusters of stars that are appearing in the sky. as night falls, i notice you begin to shiver in your dress. i unzip my gray hoodie*, shrugging it off and draping it across your shoulders. “here, take this.” “thank you.” you slip your arms in and zip it up about three quarters of the way as we continue to walk.

*yes, that gray hoodie.

you suddenly stop, giving my arm a gentle tug as you do so to get my attention. i always thought it was so cute when you did that. “can we get ice cream?” i look to where you're pointing and there's a small ice cream shop. it's hidden, kind of tucked away but it looks open. “mhmm, whatever you want.”

we go in, ordering a bowl with two scoops, each getting a scoop of our favourite flavour. we sit across from each other in a booth and share the ice cream. we stay until the last workers are practically shoving us out the door so they can close up.

we walk along the beach together, back the way we came, hand in hand. it's nice to take our time, not having a worry or care in the world as we enjoy each other's company and the sounds of the waves.

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you eventually get to the parking lot and once we're in the car, he lets you pick the music. it's about a twenty minute drive to your house. when you're about five minutes away, he notices you starting to drift off a little. he places his hand on your knee, giving it a gentle shake to wake you up. “hey, don't fall asleep on me now,” he murmurs, “we're almost there.”

he parks in your driveway and turns the car off so you can both get out. you shoot him a confused look. “you don't have to walk me to the door, it's like 30 steps away,” you say with a light smile. “i know but i wanted to.” he walks to your door with you and you start to unzip his sweater. “no, it's fine. i'll get it another time.” he holds you tightly as you pull him into a hug. “thank you, chris. this was the best date ever.” you pull away and give him one last goodbye before going inside, shutting the door behind you.

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[librarygarten]

#1 Chain x Isekai! Reader - You Play Their Games

Part 1 includes Hyrule, Wind, and Time Part 1 (you are here) ✿ Part 2 ✿ Part 3

When you first met the chain, it had quickly come to everyone’s attention that you already knew them. At first, they thought perhaps you had somehow heard tales of them, passed down through the generations. But you knew things about their adventures they hadn’t told anyone. You knew the names of people and places that surely wouldn’t have survived the thousands of years the stories would have taken to reach you.

You tried your best to explain to them how you knew what you did. Thankfully, you had your Switch, which made explaining what a video game was to them a bit easier.

Hyrule

He wasn’t sure what to think. On one hand, it was upsetting. His adventures were being used to entertain people? His Hyrule was a nightmare to live in, with monsters everywhere. When he had defeated Ganon, it had been a huge deal. To find out it was a game for children was a bit insulting if he was being honest.

On the other hand, his… “games” seemed to be your favorite? You had explained to him that his adventures were the first games ever created, and without them, the rest of the franchise wouldn’t exist. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride in this fact. He had grown up hearing of the Hero of Legend, and even now, traveling with the group, with Legend, it was impossible not to feel like he had to live up to that legacy. But to hear that without him, the others wouldn’t exist? (At least in your universe their stories would never have been created.) It was like the roles had been reversed. The Hero of Legend. The Hero of Time. All of them had to live up to the legacy that was… Hyrule.

He felt a bit guilty. A bit fascinated. A bit resentful. A bit proud. He wasn’t sure what to think. He decided to watch you play his game. Just for a bit, he told himself. Just to see what had started it all.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

“Okay, so, I normally use a guide to help me find the dungeons,” you explained to Hyrule as you booted up a new save file. He was sitting next to you, watching the screen intently. “I’m not sure how far I’ll get without the internet, especially when I have to get through the maze later on.”

Hyrule had no idea what you were talking about. He decided to ignore whatever you just said and instead focus on the game in your hands.

“Is that supposed to be me?” he pointed at the screen, to the mass of pixels in the center vaguely resembling a person wearing a green dress and hat.

“Yeah, sorry. Your games’ graphics aren’t great,” you moved the joystick, making the game Link walk around in a circle. “But that’s just because they’re older. I think my dad was a teenager when this was made.”

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again.

“I miss him.”

Hyrule nodded in understanding. It couldn’t be easy, traveling with the group in a world so unlike your own. How were they going to get you home? Before he could try to comfort you, you turned your attention back to the game, moving the character into a small doorway as you talked.

“He’s the one that first got me into the games. He and I used to play this game on the old NES he had. We even tried to make a map of the different screens so that we would stop getting lost.”

Hyrule closed his eyes, leaning his head against your shoulder as you continued to ramble on about the game. It didn’t sit right with him that his adventure was reduced to entertainment. But you seemed so happy. Surely, it couldn’t be that bad.

Wind

(Pretend his games are on the Switch lol)

He's the least bothered by this. Like, sure, it's a bit weird that his adventures are games, but it's also so cool! It's like you went on his adventure, too! Even though you’ve never met his friends in real life, you seem to show such genuine care about them when playing his game.

He WILL demand to see every Legend of Zelda game you have, not just his own. It lets him experience the rest of the chain's adventures, which he really enjoys. (He likes watching you play Ocarina of Time the most. You have a hunch it has something to do with Wind growing up hearing stories about Time, then being expected to carry on that legacy. Or maybe he just likes to watch you fail at the Water Temple).

Despite his fascination with the others’ games, Wind is also REALLY proud that you like his the most. He had fun on his adventures with Tetra, and he’s glad he gets to share that with you. He’s also glad he can shove it in the others faces that he’s the favorite.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

You giggled as the cutscene played on the screen. Wind, who was sitting next to you, gave you an inquisitive look. He was watching the cutscene too, and didn’t see what was so funny. Upon seeing his face, you laughed even more.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized through giggles, “your facial expressions get me every time.” You gestured to the screen. The game Wind had been placed in a barrel, about to be launched from the pirate boat. His expression changed from wide-eyed terror to a determined glare. “It looks like you went through the five stages of grief in three seconds.”

“I HAD TO ADAPT TO SURVIVE.” Wind puffed out his chest. If he wasn’t a twig-thin pre-teen, it may have made him look manlier.

“I’m sure being yeeted off a boat in a barrel was quite the ordeal. Still doesn’t make your faces any less amusing.” You smiled, playfully poking his cheek. He stuck out his tongue at you.

“I’m sure it’s just the art style of the game.” He rolled his eyes. Surely, his facial expressions couldn’t be that amusing. “Tetra doesn’t look that funny in real life. Neither does Aryll. Everyone on your ‘Switch’ has weird little feet that don’t go with the rest of their body. I wouldn’t trust it to copy my face.”

“Ah, my mistake,” you ruffled his hair. “Surely, no screen can properly capture this adorable visage.”

“HEy!”

“But no, seriously.” you smiled and turned your attention back to the screen, “your funny faces used to crack me up all the time as a kid! Me and my brother tried to copy them, but we could never get them quite right.”

“So, am I your brother’s favorite Link, too?” Wind smirked.

“Hey! I never said you were my favorite. I said your games were my favorite!” You playfully hit his shoulder. “I can’t just choose my favorite of you guys! That wouldn’t be fair.”

“Oh!” Wind cried out and grabbed his chest, “My pride!” He fell over dramatically, as if dying from the grievous injury to his ego. You laughed at the display.

“See, this is what I mean. I don't get this kind of entertainment from the others! Legend’s too grouchy and the captain's worried about messing up his hair.” Wind bolted upright at your comment. Cupping his hands over his mouth in a makeshift megaphone, he yelled across the campsite.

“HEAR THAT LEGEND? Y/N LIKES ME BETTER THAN YOU!”

“SHUT UP! I STILL HAVE MORE GAMES THAN YOU!”

Time

Time is silent the entire time you explain his games. Only two of his adventures seem to have made it to your world. He’s not sure if he should be horrified that his time in Termina is the last story you had of him, or grateful you didn’t see the aftermath of that adventure. (You don’t seem to know much about the Fierce Deity mask besides it “makes boss fights easier”.)

It takes him a while to trust you. He isn't sure how you view the chain now, and he can't risk you thinking they're still a game. There are real stakes. He tries to put you in the back of the group or somewhere you can't possibly mess anything up. Once you prove to him that you genuinely care about the group, though, he relaxes quite a bit. (That's a story for another time tho).

He doesn’t get too worked up over the fact you viewed his adventures as games. He can see how much you care for the chain when interacting with them, so it’s not like you still view them as playthings. From talking to his successors, he’s also grown used to being reduced to a story. He knows that fighting Ganondorf was terrifying, especially considering he was so young when he had to do it. However, to Wind, Twilight, and the others that came after? He was the Hero of Time. The Possessor of the Triforce of Courage. A legendary hero. Not a scared kid.

He watches you play occasionally, usually just a quick glance at the screen when he walks past wherever you were sitting. Wind seemed particularly interested in your device, so you had been showing him almost every game you had. Time mostly seems detached from the events depicted. Maybe it’s how long has passed between his childhood time traveling shenanigans and his present. More likely, he had simply lived through those adventures so many times himself that he couldn’t bring himself to get worked up about watching them again. You couldn’t quite tell.

✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧

“Ugh! I hate this stupid dungeon!” you groaned, pressing your face closer to the screen of your Switch. Wind was sprawled out next to you, head resting in your lap as he napped. Clearly, you had been at this for a while. Your frustration had also grabbed Time’s attention, and he made his way over to you.

“Is that the Water Temple?” he asked, sitting down on the other side of you. “I remember that place being a bit tedious to get through.”

“Yeah. I’ve been here for almost an hour. I can never get these platforms in the right order.” You furrowed your eyebrows, trying yet again to complete the stupid puzzle. Time watched you move his teen self around the level, pushing down his discomfort. He was slightly amused at how frustrated you were getting. (He’s still a little brat at heart.)

Finally, he decided to be helpful.

“Here,” he held out his hand, and you gave him the Switch. “It’s really obvious once you see the solution.” Time moved the joysticks gently, guiding his game counterpart around the level. He moved the platforms, solving the puzzle in only a few seconds.

“Oh come on!” You stuck out your tongue at the game, and Time couldn’t help but chuckle. He handed the game back to you, and you continued to play, passing through the last few levels before the final boss fight. Time continued to watch, occasionally offering commentary on the puzzles, although it was more to make fun of you than to help you.

Honestly, both of you lost track of time, and before you realized, the final battle was over. Ganondorf was defeated. As the credits rolled, Time was unusually quiet, and for a moment you thought he had fallen asleep. You glanced over, only to find his eyes glued to the screen.

“May I?” He whispered, holding out both of his hands. You placed the Switch in his hands, and he gingerly held the device as the final cutscene played. On the screen, Navi flew up and away. Time turned the device over and placed it on the ground when the words “Presented by Nintendo” appeared. 

“Time, I’m sorry,” you began, gingerly touching his shoulder. He looked lost in thought.

“Don’t be. I think I needed to see that.” He smiled sadly. “I didn’t really understand it back then. I thought she had just flown away. I didn’t really get to… mourn.”

You wrapped your arms around him, and Time gently accepted the hug. Once he was sure you weren’t going anywhere, Link tightened his arms around you.

[eu-nicola]

the finish line part 3

summary: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 6122

author's note: english is not my first language, penultimate part

tags: @ferakillia @bunnies-p1tst0p @maluzets55

Determined to work things out, you called Lando and asked to speak in person. Even though deep down you already knew it would be a difficult and probably painful conversation, you also knew you couldn’t keep running away from your problems. Lando agreed to meet you at the hotel cafeteria, though his tone on the phone sounded tense and distant.

As you got ready, your stomach was turning. You thought back to the pictures and messages you’d received, the missed calls Lando had made to you after being discovered, and everything that had happened between you and Max. You took a breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, wanting to feel safe, and walked out to Lando’s hotel.

When you got to the cafeteria, you found him already waiting for you at a table in the back. He had a stiff posture, his hands folded in front of him on the table and his gaze fixed on the coffee in front of him. His eyes lifted slightly when he saw you arrive, and you noticed the mix of discomfort and guilt he was trying to hide under a calm facade.

You sat in silence, watching him carefully. After a few seconds, he broke the silence.

“Look, I don’t want… this conversation to get out of hand,” Lando began, his voice wavering. “I know you’re upset, and I’m clear on why. I just want you to know that… it wasn’t what it seemed.”

You looked at him, eyes narrowing. His words sounded forced, as if he was trying to convince himself of what he was saying. It hurt you to see him like this, so changed, so full of insecurity.

“It wasn’t what it seemed, Lando?” you asked, keeping your tone firm. “I saw the photos. Everyone has seen them.”

He frowned, clearly upset.

“You don’t have to make this any harder,” he replied in a defensive tone. “It was a mistake. I was just… I needed to distract myself.” But that doesn't change how I feel about you.

A mixture of anger and disappointment ran through you. You had expected a sincere apology, something more than excuses and empty promises. You tried to remain calm, but your words came out with the coldness of truth.

"How I feel has changed too, Lando," you said quietly. "All of this... I don't know if it makes sense."

Lando lowered his gaze, but you noticed that he still maintained that defensive air. It was clear that he wasn't fully assuming his responsibility; he didn't seem willing to face the consequences of his decisions.

"So this is it?" he asked in a bitter tone. "For a mistake? You weren't even there to support me like you always do. And what was I supposed to do?" His words sounded reproachful, as if he were trying to transfer part of the blame to you.

You bit your lip, holding back your fury. You knew it had been difficult for him not to have you around, but that didn't justify his attitude. Finally, you gathered your courage and faced the issue once and for all.

“This isn’t just about what happened, Lando. There’s something bigger going on here,” you told him firmly. “I need some time to think, to get clear on what I really want. I can’t stay in a relationship where I constantly have to worry about whether or not you’ll do the right thing when I’m gone.”

He gulped, and for a moment, you saw a flash of genuine pain in his eyes. But instead of acknowledging the problem, he chose to back away once again.

“Do what you want then,” he said, letting out a frustrated sigh and looking away. “If you need time, go ahead. I’m not going to stop you.”

Those words were confirmation of everything you had felt during this last stage of your relationship. Without further ado, you stood up, leaving one last glance at the one you had considered your partner for so long. There was a moment of silence between the two of you, and then you turned around and walked out of the coffee shop without looking back.

As you walked away, you felt a strange mix of relief and sadness. You had hoped that this conversation would bring you some sort of peace, a reconciliation, or at least a heartfelt explanation. But instead, it only confirmed what you already feared: perhaps it was time to put an end to it.

Back in your hotel room, you took a seat on the bed and looked around, trying to process everything that had happened. The room was silent, and the weight of your decision began to settle in, bringing with it a wave of conflicting emotions. You pulled out your phone and, almost without thinking, opened the message Max had sent you hours ago, wondering how your conversation with Lando had gone.

Without much hesitation, you wrote him a short reply.

You: “We just talked… and I think I need some time to sort out my feelings.”

After a few minutes, the phone vibrated. Max had replied:

Max: “Do whatever you need. Just remember that if you decide to move on, I’m here for you. You don’t have to face it alone.”

Reading his words, you felt a small spark of calm, as if the weight of everything that had happened had lightened a little. You knew that this time away would be necessary to understand what it was that you really wanted, but there was one thing clear in all of this: you needed to feel authentic again, without the shadows of a relationship that had begun to consume more than it offered.

Even though you wanted to take some time off, the last race of the year was being held in Abu Dhabi, and you had to attend. For you, the trip had a professional purpose: the promotion of Rolex. Despite having distanced yourself from Lando and having spent a few days trying to find clarity about your feelings, you knew that this race would also be the closing of an intense and emotional season.

Dressed elegantly, you wore a shiny Rolex watch that caught the light with every movement. As you walked through the paddock, you felt the gazes of some acquaintances and other members of the industry; everyone knew that you had been a constant figure in Lando's team, and now it seemed strange to see you in an independent context.

While you were fulfilling your promotional tasks, you crossed paths with Max. He wore his usual determined expression, but this time there was something different in his gaze. When he saw you, his eyes lit up slightly, as if something in him had made up his mind. You noticed that, despite the crowd, his steps were heading straight towards you, with a confidence that made your pulse race.

"Hey," he said, smiling slightly. "I didn't think I'd find you here so early. How have you been?" His tone was warm, close, something different from the previous times.

“I'm… fine, I guess” you answered, trying to sound casual, although the closeness made you feel a mix of nervousness and curiosity. “I had to be here for Rolex. You know what this sponsorship thing is like.”

He nodded, and for a moment they remained silent, watching the hustle and bustle of preparations around them.

“I know things have been complicated for you lately” Max said, with a more serious tone than usual. “And I don't want to seem nosy, but… I haven't stopped thinking about what we talked about last time.”

The sincerity in his words threw you off a little. You had tried to stay distant, focus on yourself, and not think about everything you had experienced. But there was Max, with his penetrating gaze and his usual confidence, willing to open up in a way that you hadn't seen in him until now.

“I'm not here to pressure you” he continued, looking into your eyes. “I just wanted you to know that… I’m willing to fight for you, if you just give me a chance.”

His confession resonated with you, breaking the barrier you had built up over the past few weeks. You felt like it wasn’t just a passing statement; there was a depth to his words that made you doubt everything you had tried to rationalize. Deep down, something in you had been waiting to hear this, though you refused to admit it.

“Max…” you began, not knowing exactly how to express what you felt. “I don’t know if this is the right thing to do. After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure that getting more involved is the best thing for either of us.”

He nodded, listening to each word patiently.

“I know,” he replied. “But there’s something I’ve learned this season, and that is that important opportunities aren’t always the easiest ones. I’ve been avoiding speaking clearly to you because I didn’t want to make things more complicated for you. But if I’m honest, I can’t pretend that I don’t care about you.”

The seriousness in his eyes left you speechless. He wasn’t the usual Max, arrogant and competitive; he was someone vulnerable, showing a part of him that was rarely seen. And although a part of you wanted to keep putting up barriers, another, deeper part of you was starting to give in to his words and his sincerity.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

“What happened with Lando was difficult… and I don’t want you to be just a distraction, Max.” It wouldn't be fair to either of you.

He took a step closer, not invading your personal space, but enough for you to feel his presence more intensely.

"I'm not someone who'll settle for being a distraction," he said with a slight smile, but his tone was firm. "What I feel for you is real. And if you give me the chance, I'm willing to show you that I'm someone you can trust."

His words enveloped you, making you feel a warmth and security that you hadn't experienced in a long time. The hardness of the breakup with Lando was still present, but Max's presence offered you an alternative, a chance to rediscover what you really wanted and, perhaps, to be happy in a fuller sense.

After a few seconds of silence, you took a breath, letting your own emotions take control.

"I don't know what will happen after all this..." you murmured, looking at the floor for a moment before looking up and meeting his gaze. "But I think I'm willing to see where this takes us."

The smile on his face was almost imperceptible, but his eyes shone with a mix of determination and tenderness.

“Then I’ll start showing it from now on,” he said, taking your hand gently. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, I just want you to know that I’m here for you. No matter how long it takes.”

After that brief exchange with Max, he said goodbye with a wink and walked away, leaving behind a feeling of anticipation that you couldn’t shake. You watched as he walked towards the Red Bull paddock, surrounded by his team, while you stood still for a moment, trying to clear your thoughts.

You decided it was time to move as well. You walked through the paddock area, the hustle and bustle around you. Drivers, engineers and journalists came and went, all focused on their own roles.

Suddenly, you saw him. Lando was up ahead, briefly chatting with one of the McLaren mechanics. He turned slightly, and for a moment, his eyes met yours. It was an instant, there was no smile, no nod of recognition, just eye contact that spoke of everything beneath the surface. He seemed distant, almost cold, and before you could say anything, he looked away and kept walking.

You stood still, feeling a knot form in your stomach. That small gesture, or lack thereof, hit you harder than you expected. You knew Lando was in his zone of concentration, but you couldn’t ignore the growing emotional distance that seemed to exist between you since you arrived in Qatar.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to keep walking, telling yourself that you couldn’t read too much into a simple glance. But the awkwardness remained.

As you left the paddock area you went straight to the VIP area to watch the race. The race was certainly a spectacle from the start. Max started from pole, while Lando started from second position.

From the first lap, Max took the lead, controlling the pace with ruthless precision. Behind him, Lando followed closely, pushing at every opportunity. But as the laps progressed, it became clear that Red Bull had fine-tuned their car to perfection. Max seemed untouchable.

Lando, however, was not giving up. He kept fighting, looking for every millimetre of advantage, every opportunity to close the gap. Until lap 38 came around. It all happened in the blink of an eye. In the fast corner before the main straight, Lando's car lost grip. Perhaps a miscalculation or just bad luck, but the McLaren hit the wall with a sharp impact. The yellow flag waved immediately, and your heart skipped a beat.

From your spot, your eyes were fixed on the giant screen, watching anxiously. Lando got out of the car quickly, waving his hands to indicate that he was okay, but you could see the frustration in his every move. He was furious.

As the McLaren team scrambled to pick up the remains of the car, the race continued. Max continued to dominate, and with each lap, his victory became more inevitable. Finally, he crossed the finish line in first place, securing the race win. Fireworks lit up the sky, and the Red Bull team erupted in celebrations.

When it was all over, you headed towards the McLaren paddock, where you saw him surrounded by his team, his face grim and his brow furrowed. There was no trace of the carefree smile he normally wore.

As he spoke to his engineers, you locked eyes with him for a brief second. He looked exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally. But he didn't say anything, and neither did you. Without exchanging words, you turned around and began walking towards the exit.

The day had been intense, and you needed time to process it all. You took a cab back to your hotel, watching the city lights flicker through the window as you sank into your thoughts. Lando was fine physically, and that was the most important thing.

Once in your room, you kicked off your shoes and dropped into bed. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions: worry about Lando, what you had talked about with Max, and a growing confusion within yourself. You picked up your phone and left it on the nightstand. You didn't know whether to expect a text from Lando or Max. Or maybe neither.

You sighed and closed your eyes.

You had barely laid down when the glow of your phone illuminated the darkness of the room. For a moment, you thought it might be Lando, perhaps to talk about what happened at the race, but when you saw Max’s name on the screen, your heart skipped a little.

Max: “I hope you’re okay after all the drama today. Listen, I was thinking… I’m going home to Monaco to rest before the next season. How about you come with me? It’d be great to have you here.”

The message was direct and blunt, typical of Max. You stared at the screen, your fingers trembling slightly on the keyboard. The proposal took you by surprise, but at the same time, there was a part of you that had anticipated it.

You knew that accepting that invitation would involve much more than a simple vacation. It wasn't just the getaway to Monaco, it was everything that it meant: getting away from Lando once and for all from your own doubts, and facing the growing attraction you felt for Max.

You bit your lip, thinking of all the possible consequences. But then, your fingers began to move almost of their own volition.

You: "I don't know if it's a good idea, Max. This is all complicated."

It wasn't long before he responded.

Max: “Complicated? Maybe. But sometimes the complicated is the most exciting. You don't have to decide now. Think about it. I promise it will be an unforgettable trip."

You closed your eyes, trying to calm your heartbeat. The silence of the room surrounded you, but your thoughts were chaos. You could imagine Max in his suite, confident and relaxed, waiting for your answer as if he already knew what it would be.

Several hours passed, with the conversation on hold. Finally, you found yourself typing something you didn't think would come out of you.

You: "Okay. I'll go. But only because I need a break, and Monaco sounds like a good place to clear my mind."

His reply came almost instantly.

Max: "Yeah, sure, just for that, but perfect. You won't regret it. Let me know when you get there and I'll take care of everything.”

You stared at your phone after reading those words, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You had made a decision that could change everything, and while a part of you was scared, another couldn't wait to see what that vacation would bring.

The day of your flight to Monaco came faster than you expected. You had been tossing and turning in bed all night, thinking about what this new stage meant. Max had been clear in his invitation, and although you were hesitant at first, you couldn't help but feel excited about the trip. What started as a simple getaway to relax had turned into an opportunity to get to know a different side of Max. A side that until now you had only seen from afar.

You took an early morning flight, without looking back. As the plane flew through the sky, you immersed yourself in thoughts about everything you had left behind.

You arrived in Monaco around afternoon, and the airport was full of tourists, celebrities, and important figures. The warm, salty Mediterranean air mixed with the hustle and bustle of the people, and you could feel the vibrant energy emanating from the city streets.

You picked up your suitcase and quickly headed to the car Max had arranged for you. You knew you couldn't miss a second of this glamorous city, and you felt a little nervous. What did Max expect from you? How would all this change after a few days in his company?

The car drove through the narrow, elegant streets of Monaco, passing by the famous casinos, luxury yachts, and hills overlooking the sea. The scenery was stunning, as always, but even more impressive was what you felt when you thought of Max waiting for you.

When you arrived at Max's residence, a luxurious apartment overlooking the port, a butler greeted you with a smile and led you to the door. The suite was everything you had imagined: modern, spacious, and with a stunning view of the sea and yachts. The decor was elegant but warm, with touches of wood and soft colors. It wasn't just any place; it was a place designed for someone like him, someone accustomed to perfection.

You left your suitcase on the bed and looked at the clock. You knew Max had to be nearby. Not even ten minutes had passed when you heard the door open. You turned around and there he was, Max, with his characteristic air of confidence, but with something different in his gaze. It was as if, for a moment, everything was just for the two of them.

"Do you like the place?" he asked, approaching with a smile on his face.

“It’s… amazing,” I replied, looking around, trying to hide how nervous I felt.

Max took a step towards you, his gaze locked on yours, and although he seemed relaxed, there was something about his posture that gave away his interest. There was a spark in his eyes, something that made your heart beat a little faster. He moved even closer, and before you could react, his hands rested on your waist.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to come, but I’m glad you agreed,” he said quietly, almost as if he was reading your thoughts.

You were in the heart of Monaco, and although the surroundings were luxurious and surrounded by powerful people, all that really mattered at that moment was the silent connection you shared with Max.

“What do we do now?” you asked, the nervousness starting to dissipate a little.

“Whatever you want,” Max replied, with a mischievous smile. “But, if you ask me, I think we could start with dinner.”

Before you could say anything else, he took you by the hand and led you through the apartment, into the open kitchen.

Max’s kitchen was just as modern as the rest of the place, with white marble surfaces that reflected the warm light from the lamps. Max began pulling fresh ingredients out of the fridge, inviting you to join him without thinking twice. At first, you were hesitant, but something in his eyes invited you to stay.

“Do you know how to cook?” you asked as you watched him pull out tomatoes, basil, and olive oil.

Max smiled mischievously, a glint in his blue eyes. “I know a little. But only if you don’t mind getting your hands a little dirty.”

You laughed at the idea. “I’m not a chef, but I can try.”

And so, between laughs and small jokes, they began to prepare dinner together. Max had decided to make fresh pasta with homemade pesto, one of his favorite dishes. While he was busy with the pasta, you took care of the salad, chopping vegetables and arranging the ingredients carefully. It was a simple, but shared moment, and the dynamic between the two of you felt natural, as if you had been doing this for years.

As the preparation progressed, the distance between you disappeared. Max gently guided you, giving you instructions on how to handle the ingredients, his hands sometimes brushing yours as you passed utensils or adjusted something in the pot. The conversation flowed easily, and you realized that, without thinking about it, you felt more comfortable with him than you had ever imagined.

When the pasta was ready, Max served it elegantly on two large plates, and together you sat at the table, enjoying the view offered by the balcony as the sun began to set behind the hills. The golden light illuminated the room and reflected off the glass, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. The table was well set, but the conversation and proximity made everything seem much more intimate than it actually was.

“This is amazing,” you said, taking a bite of the pasta and nodding. “You surprise me.”

Max smiled, with a hint of pride. “I told you, I knew you’d appreciate it.”

The evening continued with laughter and anecdotes, talking about other things, about travel and what you liked to do in your free time. Max seemed genuinely interested in you, in your opinions, in what you thought about the small details of life. There was something so real and accessible about him at that moment, that you completely forgot the fact that, hours before, you had arrived in Monaco with a host of mixed emotions. Now, all that mattered was the present moment.

At the end of dinner, as the plates were empty and the wine glasses were slowly emptying, Max leaned slightly towards you, his gaze locked on yours. The room was quiet, the sound of the distant city, and for a second, it seemed like there were only the two of you left, sharing that space.

“You know?” he said, his voice soft, “I think this has been much better than any dinner I could have planned. I’m happy you came.”

You, without thinking too much about it, smiled and nodded. “I’m happy too. I didn’t imagine it would end like this.”

Max smiled again, and this time, the expression on his face was different. Softer, more approachable. It wasn’t just the confident, competitive Max from racing, but a version of him that seemed more vulnerable, more willing to share something more personal.

The chemistry between you was clear, and for the first time, you realized it wasn't just a superficial attraction. There was something much deeper, something you didn't know if it could be defined with words. But at that moment, there was no need. Being there, with Max, cooking, laughing, and sharing such a simple moment, was all you needed to know.

As the days passed in Monaco, the connection between you and Max became more and more evident.

Mornings were quiet, usually spent touring the city or relaxing on the terrace of his apartment while the sun slowly slipped over the horizon, tinting the sky in golden colors. Max was always around, whether it was to share a coffee in silence or to talk about what he was thinking for the next race. Often, their conversations were light, but there were times when, without warning, Max would drop a phrase or a confession that showed you a side of him you had never seen before.

One day, after lunch together, Max drove you through the mountains surrounding Monaco. As they drove along the winding roads, he began to talk, unprompted, about his life, about what it had taken to become who he was.

“My career isn’t just the podium, you know,” he said, looking out the window as the car moved down the road. “It’s everything I’ve had to leave behind: the parties, the relationships, the sacrifices… There are so many things people don’t see, so many difficult decisions.”

You looked at him with a mix of surprise and admiration. Max had never been a person who opened up easily, always so focused on his goal, so focused on winning and perfection. But now, he was speaking to you with brutal honesty, as if somehow, he had decided to share the deepest part of himself with you.

“I know,” you answered calmly, not knowing what else to say, but you looked at him with genuine understanding. “You’ve been at the center of all this since you were so young.” It’s not easy, and people often don’t understand what it entails.

Max nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the landscape as the car continued on its way.

“That’s why it’s hard to trust people sometimes, you know?” he said, his voice laced with subtle melancholy. “Everyone expects something from you, and sometimes you don’t even know if people like you for who you are, or for what you represent.”

A wave of empathy washed over you. Max had lived a life full of expectations, external pressures, pain, and it wasn’t hard to see how all of that had made him close some emotional doors. But in that moment, it seemed like you had somehow entered his inner circle. You had gotten him to open up, to share something so personal.

What surprised you the most was the way he understood you. It wasn’t just that Max listened to you; he understood you. In every conversation, in every gesture, there was something about him that seemed to sense what you felt, what you needed without you having to explain it with words. He wasn’t like Lando, who, although he had always been affectionate, had never shown that level of deep understanding. Lando had his own way of seeing things, but in his words there was never a place for your dreams or your insecurities. With Max, everything was different.

Max also began to talk about his long-term ambitions, about what he wanted outside of the race track, things that weren’t just achievements, medals or trophies. He told you about his love for family, his desire to form one.

Sometimes, you found yourself watching him as he spoke, unable to help but feel drawn not only to his appearance, but to the vulnerability he had begun to show. This was a different Max, a Max who asked for your opinion and valued what you said, and although he could be competitive and stubborn at times, there was something in his gaze that made you feel important.

And you, of course, couldn't help but share your own thoughts with him. At first, you thought it would be hard for you to open up so much to someone, but with him, everything flowed. You felt free to talk about your goals, about fashion, about your own fears, about your insecurities. Max supported you at all times, without judging or pressuring you, just giving you his unconditional support. The way he looked at you while you talked made you feel like, for the first time, someone really understood you.

That connection was getting stronger, getting more and more impossible to ignore. And you knew, even though you tried to stay rational, that something was changing between the two of you. It wasn't just the chemistry, it wasn't just the shared smiles or the jokes, it was something deeper. Max was becoming someone more than just the Formula 1 driver you admired from afar. And you... you were starting to have feelings for him.

As the days went by and you shared more moments together, from impromptu dinners to walks around the harbor, you realized that Max was showing you a side of him that few knew about, and that side was winning you over in a way you couldn't control. It was such a stark contrast to the relationship you had with Lando, because with him, everything had always been more superficial, more loaded with expectations of what a relationship should be.

With Max, things seemed more real, more natural. And even though you didn't know how he felt exactly, you couldn't help but feel that this moment you shared was something unique.

The air in Monaco felt heavier that day, as if the sun was shining brighter as you walked through the city with Max by your side, enjoying the scenery, but at the same time with a feeling of unease in your chest. Max, noticing your change in mood, looked at you with slight concern.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his voice soft, but with the clarity of someone who knew something wasn’t right.

You nodded, trying not to give too much importance to the whirlwind of thoughts forming in your head. You had been dealing with this silently for days, but now, while you were with Max, the doubts and feelings couldn’t be left behind. You decided it was time to face it, even though you didn’t know how he would react.

Just a few minutes later, your phone vibrated in your pocket, interrupting the peaceful walk. Looking at the screen, you saw Lando’s name and felt a pang in your stomach. With your pulse racing, you decided to open the message.

Lando: “I miss you. “I want to go back, I want things to be okay between us.”

A lump formed in your throat as you read the words. You knew he had been trying to reach you, that he still held out hope that things could be like they were before, but something inside you told you it was time to let him go. You knew you couldn’t keep fooling yourself, or Lando, or Max. Everyone’s paths had changed, and even though you had loved Lando at one time, everything seemed different now. The connection with Max was something you couldn’t ignore, a truth that had been growing between you and you could no longer deny it.

With shaking hands, you began typing out your reply. You didn’t want to do it over text, but at the same time, you knew it was the most direct and honest thing to do.

You: “Lando, I appreciate you so much, but we both know our lives are taking different paths. I don’t feel the same way I used to anymore. I’m spending time with Max now… things have changed, and I can’t move on with us. You know what you did and I did it to him.”

The phone stayed in your hands for a second, your heart pounding, and before you could regret it, you hit “send.” The relief was immediate, but it was also accompanied by a soft pain, like a wound that had been slowly closing, but was still bleeding.

It wasn’t even ten minutes before Lando replied to you. The tone of his text was clear: he was hurt, frustrated, and angry.

Lando: “So you’re with Max now, huh? I can’t believe it. I knew something was going on between you two, but this… This doesn’t just hurt me, it’s going to affect our image too. You’re breaking everything we built, everything we had.”

You read those words, and even though they hurt, you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew you couldn’t continue in something that no longer had a foundation, something that had worn away inside. But Lando’s words pierced you like an arrow, and in that moment, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Breaking up with him didn’t just mean letting go of a relationship, but also dealing with the consequences of the decisions you had made.

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, and with a firm voice, you answered, knowing that there could be no turning back.

You: “Don't blame me, you were the one who slept with another woman and let the paparazzi catch you. This is the best for both of us, we no longer love each other like we once did.”

As soon as you sent the message, the tension in the air increased. Max, who had been by your side all this time, watched your face with an expression that seemed to understand what had just happened, although without saying a word.

Lando quickly responded, this time with more anger and resentment.

Lando: “You're going to see what's going to happen now. You know that this relationship has given us both so much, but it seems that it means nothing to you. You've left me in the lurch, and now I'm forced to deal with the public image of all this, with everything we've built, just because of one bad decision. Don't call me ever again.”

His final message hit you harder than you expected. It was final closure, and even though deep down you knew you had done the right thing, a part of you felt the weight of the words he had just written. You couldn’t deny that things between you and Lando had changed, but the fury in his message made it clear to you that, at that moment, he couldn’t understand your decision.

Max, seeing that you were tense from the answer, put a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “but you had no other choice. You deserve to be happy, and if that means moving on, then that’s what you have to do.”

You turned to him, grateful for his words. His understanding, his calm, was in complete contrast to the intensity of what you had just been through. Deep down in your heart you prayed that Lando wouldn’t do anything but you knew him, you knew how he got when he was angry and you were prepared to read your name and Max’s on the internet the next morning.

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader (pt.4) ☆

links to pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

cw: porn with feelings, major confessions, lots of fluff, oral sex both m and f receiving, face sitting, suna has feelings.

the silence of the kitchen felt deafening. you and rintarou sat on the stools of the kitchen island counter while his sister stood at the other side, staring at you two. your legs swing, dangling off the tall stool with anxiousness filling your stomach.

“so… you two… have been-“ the younger suna starts.

“ami i-“ her brother speaks first, cutting her off

“shut your ugly mouth rintarou.” she scolds him. you stay silent.

“we literally look the same??” he puts his arms up in defense.

“rin, please stop talking…” you mumble to the middle blocker next to you. he just sighs and slumps in his seat.

ami takes a few breaths before speaking.

“i’m not mad okay…” she fidgets with her manicured nails while she talks.

“i just wish you didn’t feel the need to like, hide it from me, y’know?” she sighs. you two just nod. you felt awful, you two were the people she trusted most in this world.

“you’re right-“ you finally gain the courage to speak, but immediately getting cut off.

“not done talking” she scolds, saying your name in a warning tone. you pipe down.

your best friend’s eyes go to you. for such a cute girl, she sure knew how to make you tense up just from a look. her face softens suddenly.

“so, why did you feel the need to hide it from me? we both know you’re probably the only person i’d be comfortable with even dating my brother.” ami has a sort of frown on your face. it makes you sad the fact you hurt her.

“well we aren’t really even dating…”

“we’re not?” the brown haired man looks at you.

your eyes snap to rintarou.

“no, rin, we only hooked up like four times-“

“FOUR TIMES? it’s only been two weeks?- sorry my bad.” ami puts a hand over her mouth to quiet herself.

“well, yeah, but i was hoping-“

“is this really the time to talk about this right now?” you whisper to the man. he shuts up real quick. you look back to your best friend, giving her a genuine look.

“i’m sorry i hid it from you, ami. i guess we- well i at least was just scared you’d hate me or something. i never intended to lie or hurt you, we just got kinda caught up in it.” you honestly admit. she just nods, then glares at her older brother. “and you” she seethes. his eyes widen at her sudden switch up.

he may be her brother, but he's also a guy, and you are her best friend.

“my best friend? really, rintarou?” her arms are crossed over her chest, eyes boring into her brother’s head. rin sits up straight.

“look, i apologize for not telling you, truly, but i’m not sorry that i did it.” he says, looking back over to you. you drop your face into your hands. the man you loved was such an idiot.

ami sighs and speaks again after a few moments, making your head perk back up.

“i’m not upset. plus, it would be kinda hypocritical of me to be mad at you two.” she finishes, looking at you.

oh right. the miya twin…

rin looks between the two of you.

“um, what do you mean?” he has a curious but anxious look on his face, brows furrowed.

“you wanna tell him or should i?” his sister looks to you in consolance. you point at her. “this is your business, girl. all you”

she lets out an annoyed sigh before speaking, shifting uncomftorably between her feet.

“i’ve kinda been… talking to osamu since i graduated, but you can’t be mad becuase you’re also literally fucking my best friend soo…” ami says all in one breath. rintarou has an unreadable expression on his face.

“well, obviously.” he scoffs. both of your eyes widen.

“you knew?!” she yells in a suprised tone. he just nods.

“well no shit, he’s the one who told me to invite you to the party in the first place. plus i saw your name pop up in his phone when we went to lunch last week.” her brother explains. you just sit back and watch this uncomfortable situation unfold.

he looks at you. “you knew too?” he casually asks. you nod.

“well obviously, she’s my best friend.”

“hear that rin, my best friend” ami sticks her tongue out at her brother. you smile at the shift of the room, going from all serious to a sudden playfulness, the way ami always knew how to do.

“now go to your room or something, i wanna talk to her alone.” she points at the stairs for her brother to leave. he rolls his eyes, patting your head before leaving the room.

a few seconds pass, and she takes his seat, sitting next to you. she swirls the stool around to face you, voice dropping to a hushed tone.

“so… do you love him?” she curiously asks, with genuine curiosity.

“do you love osamu?”

“shut up, i asked first.”

“i do” you say without a second of thought. she just smiles. all anger from before subsiding into genuine happiness.

“you’re still gonna hangout with me though, right?” she asks, back to fidgeting with her fingers. you roll your eyes.

“of course i am. i’m still sleeping in your room everynight till i leave-“ you start.

“oh c’mon, she doesn’t get to hog you!” rintarou yells from the stairs, eavesdropping on your conversation. you both glare at him.

“no one asked you, rin!” she yells. you both laugh at the way he storms back up the stairs.

she'd be having a talk with him later too.

you talk about everything. osamu, the party, your plans in the next week before you leave.

you were relieved, your guilty conscience completely lifted from having to keep this secret from your best friend. you never expected her to approve, but she was happy both her best friend and her brother are able to find comfort.

plus she knew he had a fat crush on you the way he was staring at you the entire party the night before. she was drunk, but not stupid. her brother was so obvious. maybe it was just a suna thing.

but the thought that you gave him all those marks weeks ago made her shiver. gross.

there was only three days left until you go back. you’ve spent your last days going on mall trips, to the movies, taking walks in the park with your best friend. (and rintarou when he refused to stay at home, saying it was for your guys’ ‘protection’)

he just wanted to spend as much time near you before you left.

“stop moving” you warn rintarou, placing the sheet face mask onto his constantly jerking head.

“it’s cold…” he complains. you just roll your eyes.

“you’re the one who wanted to do this.”

“well yeah, because you were doing it.” he pouts. you giggle at him, your own skincare face mask soaking on your face.

ami left for osamu’s about an hour before, but not before giving you guys a ‘do NOT fuck’ warning. you both just smiled and nodded your heads.

“you’re cute.” you give him a small peck on his lips, one of the only parts that the skin care mask wasn’t covering. his hand reaches for your own, lacing his fingers with yours.

“be my girlfriend.” he softly says, his eyes meeting yours. you were glad this sheet mask was covering your face, or he’d see how flustered you were.

“what?”

“do you not want to?” he asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

“well of course i do, but i-“

“be my girlfriend then. please?” he squeezes your hand. if your face wasn’t covered he’d be holding it.

it was kind of silly the seriousness of this conversation compared to the way you guys had literal sheets on your face.

“i live three hours away, rin.”

“so what? i have a car. i’ll drive down every weekend to see you, baby.” he assures you. his eyes read nothing but honesty and love.

“i couldn’t ask you to do that… you're so busy with volleyball”

“you wouldn’t. i want to. if it was up to me i’d keep you here. or even go with you." he chuckles, "i'll pay for your train rides to come to my games, i’m graduating in two years, we’ll figure it out.” you could see his small smile. his fingers gently brushing over your knuckles.

“okay” you nod.

“okay?” his eyes light up.

“yes” you laugh, he stands up from his chair, leaning down to kiss you, but you two couldn’t do much with these stupid sheet masks.

“take this shit off i wanna kiss you” he rips his own off his face making you pout.

“you’re supposed to leave them on for ten minutes”

“i don’t care, they were like a dollar each” he scoffs, gently peeling your own soft wet mask from your face. he was the one who went into the makeup store with you earlier to purchase them in the first place.

“what a money waster.” you smile up at him. the skincare residue making your and his skin shiny. he couldn’t lie, your guys’ skin looks fantastic.

he grabs your face, finally giving you a real kiss. your lips meet sweetly. you’ve kissed several times by now, but this time was different. it was full of tenderness and love instead of the usual rushed tension.

it was like you have all the time in the world.

his hand reaches in your hair, deepening the kiss. you sigh when his tongue rolls together with your own. your hands plant at his chest, you could feel his muscles through his shirt.

he snakes his free hand around your waist, bringing you to press against him.

you felt your panties dampen when his hand slides down from your waist, to your hips, to your ass.

“so…touchy” you mumble between kisses. he just smiles.

“you make me like this” he replies, gently biting your lip.

your hands go up to tangle in his own hair, tugging slightly to tease him. he just groans.

“c’mere, baby.” he sits on his bed, reaching his arms out to you. you join him, hopping onto his lap and kissing his face.

“wow, your skin is really smooth…” your hand goes to gently caress his face. he leans into your palm like a cat, making you giggle.

his eyes never leave yours, so full of sincerity and love.

“want you to touch me, rin.” you bring his hand to your lower stomach. he just chuckles.

“now who’s the needy one?” he mumbles, kissing you again before his hand slips into the waistband of your pants into your panties, his middle and index fingers finding your clit.

“this wet just from kissing?” he chuckles at you, making you pout.

“m’sorry” you whisper, stuttering when his fingers rub gently at your sensitive bud.

“don’t be sorry, pretty. it’s hot.” he smiles, pulling you back to shimmy your cute pants down your hips. you help him, throwing them on the floor of his room.

you’re left in your his oversized t shirt and your panties, moving to sit on him on the bed, but he stops you. you give him a questioning look.

“wanna try something.” he lays himself on his bed, propping himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“want you to sit on my face.” he cheekily smiles, your eyes widen, but your insides tingle at the thought of it.

“i don’t wanna hurt you…” you nervously gulp. he scoffs.

“i could lift three of you if i needed to. i’ll be fine, sweetheart.” he assures. you reluctantly climb on the bed, still a little scared you were going to suffocate him. like he reads your mind, he speaks.

“if dying by your pussy is where i’m meant to die, it’ll be an honorable death.” this makes you roll your eyes, peeling off your underwear. before you could throw them to the side, rin snatches them, tucking them in the drawer next to his bed.

“hey!” you scold him. he rolls his eyes.

“need something to remind me of you.” his smug smirk made you want to slap him, but also want to kiss him. you opted for the second option. your tongue’s swirling together in a needy messy kiss.

he pulls back, laying himself back on his bed. you let out a breath, crawling up to him and nervously straddling his face with your thighs, facing his legs.

you gasp when he pulls your hips down to seat yourself on his face, his hot tongue swiping over your slick cunt. your face screws into tight pleasure as his tongue prods into your tight hole, making you grind down into his face.

his strong hands hold your hips down as if you were hoping to escape. your eyes flutter open while his tounge switches between playing with your clit and proding into your weeping hole.

your mouth waters at the sight of his erection begging to be released through his sweatpants. poor guy was grinding up into nothing. you lean down, reaching to rub him through his pants, making him groan into your pussy.

you hurriedly push his pants down his hips, along with his boxers. he was so tall you couldn’t reach your mouth to his cock in this position, making you pout. so instead you take your hand and stroke his veiny cock, his moans being muffled by him sucking on your clit.

you pump his cock, using the slick of the precum beading at his tip to lubricate him. his hips stutter into your hands as your finger runs over his tip, the slit of his dick leaking precum over your fingers. fuck how badly you wanted to lick it up.

you moan when his tongue explores your soaking pussy, your hands continuing to tease his raging cock. the tip bright pink from all your teasing.

“feels so good, baby, fuck!” you whine, your hips instinctively rutting into his face. he moans in acknowledgment, urging you to keep touching him while he eats you out like you were his last meal. his grip on your hips never faltering.

your wrist starts to ache from the constant pumping, but the pure pleasure of him licking and sucking at you was all you could think about.

this position was so fucking good. the way he had nothing to do but eat you out until you were trying to lift yourself off of his face, the pleasure becoming too much.

he pulls you back down in an instant, your constant squirming earning you a harsh suck on your clit, making you whine.

“rinn-“ you mewl, your thighs starting to quiver around his head. you’re panting, the strokes on his cock getting quicker and messier.

“f-fuck… keep doing that and m’gonna cum, baby.” he groans into your wetness. you let go, hands gripping at his abs as you feel yourself become undone.

your hips grind uncontrollably into rintarou’s mouth, heat pooling into your lower belly as you feel yourself clench around nothing, the feeling of him suckling at your clit making you cum all over his mouth.

you let out moans of his name, panting before finally moving off of him to let him breathe.

you move yourself between his legs, looking up at him. his lower face was covered in your cum and he was breathing heavily. you licked your lips at the sight, bringing your attention back to his raging cock.

you smile up at him, giving his member small pecks, making his breath stutter.

“want you to cum in my mouth, rin.” you look up at him through your lashes, tongue delving into the slit of his head, making his hips sputter and hands grip in your hair.

you giggle, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. he lets out dirty groans and grunts, his grip in your hair only getting tighter and tighter.

he knew he was gonna cum soon, already being so worked up from you jerking him off before. that along with you cumming all over his face just a few moments before.

his hips jerk off the bed with a loud groan when you take him as deep as your throat allows you, hands gripping into his strong thighs. you moan when his salty cum shoots down your throat, practically filling your mouth. you swallow it all, only a dribble falling past your lips, swollen and wet.

once he settled, you pulled off of him with a small pop, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips and his cock. you could feel his piercing gaze on you, his grip on your hair turned into soothing strokes.

you hold back a giggle at the way he looked at you with full admiration in his eyes. like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. he pulls you up, immediately connecting his lips with yours. the way you both tasted each others releases made you sigh into his mouth.

you laid on his chest, kissing eachother gently. you pull back, smoothing down his hair.

he speaks first, your name coming off the tip of his tounge like a beautiful hum.

“i love you” he breathes out, his eyes searching your own. your heart quickens in your chest.

“you don’t have to say it back-“ he starts.

“no. i love you, rintarou.” you confess, leaning to kiss his cheek. he gives you an uncharacteristically loving smile. you’d never seen him in this sort of light before.

your mind completely avoiding the fact that in three days time, you’d be hours away, long gone from here.

“you guys didn’t fuck, right?” ami scolds, eyeing you two as you three ate the dinner she so graciously brought home for you.

“nope. on our best behavior.” rin responds, giving your thigh a squeeze under the table.

well, technically he wasn’t lying.

masterlist

a/n: ‘i have plans that i cannot share w you right now, because the haters will sabotage me’ wink wink. only planning one or two (maybe even three) more parts of this *cries*

☆ taglist: @jennasquishy8 @nekee-lilac02 @riiceandsoup ☆

[solxamber]

Hi! Loved your villainess series and i can't wait for a Jamil chapter! In the meantime, do you mind if I request Jamil x a reader whom the Asims are absolutely terrified of? As in they're one of the most genuinely kind people out there but they could eradicate you with a snap of their fingers when pissed (though they only do that in extreme situations and are pretty reasonable). So as soon as Jamil starts dating them, everyone in the Asim household starts walking on eggshells around him cause they don't want to be eradicated off the face of the earth. He still has to do his job but the more dangerous aspects or any extra work is delegated to somebody else. Basically, Jamil can now be as overachieving as he wants since nobody has enough of a death wish to risk pissing off his lover.

Jamil Viper x Intimidating! reader

thank you for waiting <3 i hope you like it

The moment Jamil starts dating you, the entire Asim household becomes a drastically different place. It’s not like you’re a tyrant or anything—you’re the sweetest, kindest person they’ve ever met.

You’re always smiling, polite, and helpful. But everyone knows about that side of you. The side that only shows when something pushes too far, and you go from warm and gentle to terrifying in the blink of an eye.

It doesn’t happen often—really, it only ever happens in extreme situations—but one close encounter was more than enough to put the fear of you into the entire Asim household.

The first time it happened, one of the servants had accidentally endangered Jamil by not paying attention. Nothing too serious in hindsight, but in the heat of the moment, you had stepped in, voice cold and eyes sharp as you reprimanded the poor servant with an intensity no one expected from you.

You didn’t yell or make a huge scene, but the weight of your words and the terrifying calm in your expression was more than enough to send everyone scattering. And now, that incident has taken on a life of its own, becoming a whispered legend among the staff.

Jamil, however, is a little too amused by the whole situation. He’s never seen you lose your temper with him, and he finds it kind of satisfying watching everyone tiptoe around, desperate not to cross you.

Not to mention, it’s made his life a whole lot easier. Suddenly, all the extra dangerous or exhausting tasks that used to be piled on him are conveniently handled by someone else. No one dares to risk upsetting you by overworking him.

As you walk into the Asim estate one day, the staff noticeably scatter, heads ducked as they try not to make any mistakes in your presence. You exchange an amused look with Jamil as he walks beside you.

"Did I do something to terrify them today?" you whisper, half-joking.

Jamil smirks, clearly enjoying this more than he should. "No, they're just smart. Nobody wants to be the one responsible for angering you."

You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. "I’m not that bad."

"Tell that to the servant who accidentally put me in danger last month. I think he’s still recovering," Jamil replies, his voice teasing.

You blush, feeling a little guilty. "I didn’t mean to scare him. He just needed to be more careful."

"Oh, you didn’t scare him. You petrified him," Jamil says, his smug grin growing wider. “Now, everyone’s scrambling to make sure I don’t get stuck with anything that could stress me out, all because they don’t want you to get upset on my behalf."

He’s not wrong. It’s like there’s an unspoken agreement among the staff that keeping Jamil stress-free is the key to survival.

Tasks that used to involve risky magic, late nights, or heavy lifting are reassigned before they even reach Jamil’s to-do list. And it’s not just because Jamil’s Kalim’s right-hand man; it’s because of you.

The thought of you unleashing your wrath is enough to keep the household running smoothly, with no one willing to take chances.

Jamil stretches, looking relaxed for the first time in what feels like years. “I could get used to this,” he mutters, clearly reveling in his newfound freedom from extra work.

You shoot him a playful glare. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"Can you blame me?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got more free time, no one’s shoving dangerous tasks my way, and I have the best motivation to keep it that way.” He leans closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur, “That motivation being you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, warmth flooding your chest. Jamil isn’t always one for open displays of affection, but when he does say things like this, they hit hard. You can’t help but smile, reaching out to take his hand as you walk together.

"I didn’t mean to turn the whole household into a bunch of scaredy-cats," you admit, squeezing his hand.

Jamil chuckles softly, pulling you a little closer. “It’s not your fault they’re terrified. You just have... a certain presence when you’re angry.”

You snort, shaking your head. "I’m sure you’re not complaining, considering all the benefits."

"Not one bit," he says, his voice smooth and teasing. “Though I’ll admit, I don’t need them to be scared of you. I can handle my own problems.”

"Uh-huh, sure," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “And here I thought you were just enjoying the luxury of not being overworked.”

Jamil leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “I enjoy being with you more.”

Your heart flips, and before you know it, you’re turning your head and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, unable to resist the moment. He seems a little taken aback, his smug exterior cracking for a second as he blinks in surprise. Then, a slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face.

"Keep that up, and I might start making excuses to slack off even more," he teases.

You laugh, shaking your head. "I can’t believe you. I’m not your excuse to get out of work."

Jamil grins, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Maybe not. But you’re definitely the reason I’m a lot happier these days.”

He says it so casually, but the sincerity in his voice makes your chest feel tight with affection. You glance up at him, your hand still in his, and you realize just how much he’s changed since you started dating.

He’s still the same hardworking, overachieving Jamil, but now he’s more relaxed, more at ease. And you’re glad you can be a part of that.

Meanwhile, the staff is still scattering like leaves in the wind as you and Jamil stroll through the estate. Kalim, of course, is the only one who remains blissfully oblivious to the atmosphere.

"Hey, guys!" Kalim shouts, bounding over with a bright smile. “I just heard about a new event happening tonight! You two are coming, right?”

Jamil exchanges a glance with you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You know, Kalim, I think I’m going to take the night off. We have plans,” he says smoothly, pulling you a little closer.

Kalim grins, not missing a beat. “Oh! That’s awesome! Have fun!”

You can’t help but chuckle at Kalim’s eternal optimism, but as you walk away, you notice a few of the servants letting out relieved sighs. They clearly appreciate that Jamil is taking a break, but you’re well aware of what they’re really relieved about: keeping you happy.

Jamil’s smirk returns as you head back to your shared quarters. “I think I owe you for this.”

You raise an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For making my life a whole lot easier," he says, his voice low and teasing.

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your lips as you lean into him. "Just don’t get too cocky."

Jamil grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Too late.”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the Asim household will always be a little terrified of you, but if it means keeping Jamil happy and safe, you can live with that.

Masterlist

[hazbinwhoree]

I feel like adam would be the type to pull pranks, so may I request an adam x sensitive!reader, where Adam pulls a prank a little too far?

Too Far

A/N: The song is Work Song by Hozier, I am a slut for Hozier.

The thing about Adam is that he was a damn good actor. That mixed with his love for pranks was a lethal combination.

Poor (Name) was often the victim of his pranks, but today he went a little too far. He hid his guitar and then accused (Name) of misplacing it.

Watching her flounder and stutter and insist she hadn’t taken it was funny at first. “I know it wasn’t me, so where the fuck did you put it?” Adam raised his voice and suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore. Tears welled up in (Name)’s eyes.

She burst out crying. “I didn’t take it,” she sobbed. “Please, why don’t you believe me, I wouldn’t do anything to your guitar.”

Well shit. Adam hadn’t meant to make her genuinely upset. He just wanted to make her a little frustrated.

“Fuck, baby, don’t cry. Shit. It was a joke, I know where my guitar is.”

(Name) gasped for air. “Why would you do that?” She sounded so hurt and betrayed that Adam swore she’d never be the subject of one of his pranks ever again.

“I’m so sorry…”

He went to approach her but she shrunk back. “Leave me alone,” she whimpered, turning around and running off to her room.

Adam felt like a piece of shit.

He gave (Name) space for a while, but when he checked back twenty minutes later and could still hear sniffling through the door, he knocked lightly. “(Name)? Honey?” The sniffling stopped and he was answered with silence.

Ten minutes later, he came back with his guitar. He sat outside her door, his back against it and began gently strumming his guitar. The crying stopped and he could tell she was listening.

“Boys workin’ on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I’m so full of love I could barely eat.”

He felt the light thump of (Name) leaning against the other side of the door.

“There’s nothing sweeter than my baby

I’d never want once from the cherry tree

‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin’ me.”

There’s still silence on the other side of the door, but Adam can tell she’s listening and can feel her anger and sadness waning.

“When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I’ll crawl home to her.”

Finally, the door opened a crack and (Name) peered out. “I love that song,” she mumbled.

“I know.”

(Name) opened the door wider and Adam stood, putting his guitar down. “I’m sorry babe, that was a mean joke.” “No shit,” (Name) grumbled. Adam opened his arms questioningly. (Name) seemed to consider it for a moment before fully opening the door and stepping into Adam’s arms.

Adam sighed in relief, holding (Name) tightly. “No more pranks,” (Name) said, muffled in his chest. “No more pranks,” Adam agreed.

“I am actually sorry, sugar tits.”

(Name) rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I know.”