#around 1300 words

[theharellan]

Wisdom wakes to face the dawn. @theshirallen

“Spirit-speaker, voice of Wisdom, I need your aid.”

Her voice would rouse him from the deepest slumber, he thinks he might cast off the pall of death itself to find his way to her side.

Instead, he shrugs off the white sheets of the honoured Dreamer, and wipes his hand across the back of his mouth. Crystallised remains of honeywater cling to his lips where his fellows had painted them in his sleep, a thoughtful gesture, if done in vain. The well of the Fade had proven deep, and he had drank from it gladly, almost forgetting the body that waited for him in the lands below.

Almost.

“You’re awake. Good.” Kindness comes first. They always do, quick to notice struggle and try to correct it. Without waiting, they move to sit in the space his head had lain, hands separating long trails of hair and beginning to braid them. They are gentle, but the feeling tugs. Everything does, from the air to his shoulders, as though the spinning of the world seeks to return him to his slumber.

But the voice beckons, and his hair spins further down his back.

“Has something happened?” Wisdom asks, gingerly touching the beginning of his braid. “The war-”

“Drags on,” Kindness finishes for him. “I don’t presume you found any answers, in your Fade wanderings?”

His tongue catches behind his teeth, but it is a simple enough matter to spin his hesitation into consideration. “Nothing definitive,” he says. “I… expected to have more time before I dawned.”

“You will have more time, I’m sure. For now, the All-Mother needs you.” He feels their hand twist something into his hair, and pin the braid’s end to its beginning. They tuck themself before him now, the silver vallaslin on their face a mirror to his gold.

“You still haven’t told me what I’m walking into,” he reminds them. The cold air shivers against him as he crosses the room to stand before an intricate wardrobe. As he reaches for his robes he sees the scars from the last battle he took part in still burn upon his skin. Frowning, he shrugs the clothes on, buttons tight across his breast. The weight of the wolfskin lands with a more comforting weight as he tethers it at his waist, and Kindness comes to smooth the fur in a singular direction.

“Our lady’s wounded pride,” they say, half-fond and half-weary. “She is not accustomed to being denied.”

His ears and his curiosity pique, but they force his shoulders towards the door. “I will let Mythal speak with her own voice, and not lend mine when it has already failed her.”

They shake their head at him when his look prompts for further explanation, shoving him harder until his feet obey. “Good luck, lethallen,” they bid as the halls of Mythal’s palace open for him.

The gilded walls of Mythal’s palace glow dully in the gloom, the All-Mother’s mood seemingly baked into the architecture. Wisps that act as sconces in the wall shimmer as he passes, some straying from their duty to float in the forward wind of his stride or gather beneath the shelter of his braid. Their glow is glittering starlight on his hairline, ringing a crown around him as the doors to the court swing open.

Awaiting him is the usual audience: the lesser servants and knights; the noble representatives and sycophants; and those of his nature, the minor aspects that distilled into Benevolence. And above them, garbed in robes that flow from glassy steps, is Mythal. Whatever her mood, she glows, shining like the stars.

They all seem to fade away when she sights Wisdom, the figures gauze-like in contrast to his fullness within the singularity of her vision.

“You walk among us again, my Wisdom,” she calls. “What knowledge have you returned to us with?”

She does not ask the question she wants him to answer, but he addresses it dutifully, without hesitation: “None that we may use at present.”

“A pity. The people suffer while we hunt for answers.”

The accusation cuts. He bows his head in apology. “I will not fail you.”

“No,” Mythal says, words soothing the doubts her own tongue incited. “I suspect you will not.”

It is not often she quits her throne, but she forgets it to join his side, shadow falling over him even as the light of her expression guides his eyes. With flawless hands, she scatters the wisps that have crowned him, smile thin upon her lips. “Come,” she bids him. “I would speak to you alone.”

The sentiment alone would be enough to clear the room, but she does not linger, guiding him past the court and out into the gardens. Impossible fountains fall forever from the air, spiraling around floating land masses where spirits gather. They peer over the edges before shrinking out of sight, but he cannot miss the impression of their hearts straining to hear the All-Mother’s words. He forces back his smile, and says nothing of them.

As they walk together, the fullness of Mythal begins to fade, her perfection falter. The intense blackness of her hair loses its shine, and the smile she casts upon him is tired around the edges.

“I know what you are thinking, my Wisdom,” she says, her chiding delicate. Fond. “We have been over this before.”

“You do not need to posture for them,” he says anyway. “They will love you regardless.”

“You speak not with your wisdom when you advise me so-”

“- You gave me a heart when you bid me to your side. Can you fault me for thinking with it, on occasion?”

“- I need them to trust me, as well as love me-”

“As I trust and love you.”

Mythal smiles upon him, twisting a lock of hair from his braid. She twirls it around her finger like a ribbon as she says, “That is why I summoned you.”

His heart jumps in his chest, remembering her admonishment before the crowd. “My efforts against the Titans-”

“- must wait. You will find the answer to the people’s prayers, but when the fighting is through, we will need to be in a position of strength. Our siblings in power will seek to gain ground, and if we falter, they will suffer.” She does not name them, but he feels them in the silence between her thoughts: the people he has walked amongst; shielded from the earth’s fear; guided through hostile grounds to those within her protection.

He nods. “What would you ask of me?”

“There is room enough for another aspect in my court, and I have just a one in mind. Not so old as Fear, but more powerful, and far less likely to be scattered by dawn.”

Dread tightens his throat as the nature of her request begins to occur to him. He rolls up the sleeves of his robes and scratches at his scars before her hand swats his nails away from his skin. Grateful, obedient, he clasps behind his back. “You wish for me to ask it on your behalf.”

“I already asked on my behalf,” she says with an air of disdain. “And Kindness, first, then Mercy. They burned through my whole court before I came to them, and even I, they refused.”

Pride burgeons in his chest, like the first beams of sunlight at daybreak. “But you believe I will succeed where you have failed?”

“Your victories are mine,” she assures him, tucking the strand she had tugged away behind his ear. “But you speak with the voice of the People as no other in my courtroom can. The love you bear for me, not the All-Mother, but Mythal, may grant you the favour that even I lacked.”

She bends to knight him with a kiss to his crown, and he bows his head dutifully to accept her gift. “I will not fail you.”

“I know you won’t, my love.”

[beechersnope]

i don't think mormons should be considered christian for Numerous reasons, not least of which bc the push to assimilate with american christianity is relatively recent, but it's always so funny to see actual christians lose their shit whenever someone asks why mormons haven't been included in something online

[zombified-queer]

🌨 Sleet - What's the most you've ever written in one sitting?

Okay so sometimes I get focused on an Idea and end up making a 2-3k work over the course of a few hours. And then when it's done I'm like "How LONG was I out?"

[just-aake]

Endearing Entanglements

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: You give Natasha a visit in Norway and remind her she has more friends to call on for help.

Warnings: fluff, implied sexual themes

Words: 1300

Pulling up to the safehouse, Natasha’s eyes narrow as she catches a faint trail of smoke curling from the trailer’s ventilation. 

Instinct kicking in, she turns off the engine and quickly reaches for the gun stashed in the glove compartment.

She’s still on the run, and Rick isn’t due to check in for another week, which means the sign of someone else being here is a red flag she can’t ignore.

Sliding out of the car, Natasha moves silently. As she approaches the door, her grip on the weapon tightens as she takes a steadying breath. 

With a practiced calm, she swings open the door, stepping inside swiftly with her gun raised. Her eyes dart across the room, scanning for any immediate threats. 

But instead of chaos or an ambush, she’s met with the quiet, domestic sound of sizzling food.

Your back is to her, the scent of spices mingling in the air as you casually tend to whatever is cooking on the stove. 

You don’t even flinch at her dramatic entrance. 

“You should go freshen up, love. Dinner will be ready in ten,” you say, your tone easy and unbothered, not even sparing a glance in her direction, as though she hadn’t just stormed in with a weapon aimed at your head.

Natasha freezes, her suspicion warring with confusion. She sweeps her gaze around the small trailer once more, confirming that you’re alone, before finally lowering her gun with a disbelieving huff. 

Her tension melts into exasperation as she holsters her weapon and crosses her arms. 

“What are you doing here?” she demands.

You chuckle softly, finally turning to face her. The spatula in your hand gestures toward the small, cluttered living space.

“I came by to drop off your package,” you reply, your tone light but with a teasing edge.

Natasha’s eyes flick to the black case sitting on the rickety table. She knows without opening it what’s inside—customized weapons and gadgets uniquely gathered and prepared for her. 

Like you’ve done countless times before for her.

“I didn’t order anything,” she says skeptically.

“Hmm, you’re right. You didn’t,” you say with an exaggerated nod. “You called Mason instead. And he got you this…quaint little setup.”

The lights flicker as if on cue, emphasizing your skepticism about the condition of the safe house. 

Natasha catches the faint jealous pout in your tone and sighs, moving closer until she’s leaning against the counter beside you. 

“It’s nothing personal,” she murmurs, her voice softening. “I just needed something quick and discreet.”

Your lips twitch into a slight smirk as you turn to her. Without warning, you tug her closer, capturing her lips in a kiss. 

You nip at her bottom lip in reprimand before pulling back, your eyes glinting with amusement.

“Love, isn’t that how most of our…entanglements end up?” 

Natasha huffs a soft laugh, her smirk matching yours. Her hands find your waist, pulling you in closer. 

“How much longer did you say dinner would take?”

Your grin widens as you turn off the stove, tilting your head closer to hers. 

“All done,” you whisper against her lips.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Leaning back against the wall of the trailer, Natasha sits on the bed, a now reheated plate of food in her hands. She eats quietly, her mind half on the simple meal you had prepared and half on the intimate moments you and she shared earlier. 

The room is still, save for the occasional flicker of the dim overhead light and the low murmur of your voice.

At the edge of the bed, you handle a phone call that interrupted your dinner with her. 

“No worries, love, I can get it to you by then,” you say smoothly, your voice oozing charm as you multitask, the phone pressed between your ear and shoulder while you pull on your pants.

Natasha’s brow arches slightly at your casual use of the term of endearment. Setting her plate aside, she moves toward you. 

“Have I ever let you down?” you continue your conversation nonchalantly, though, the slight tilt of your head indicates you notice her movement behind you.

Wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, she leans into you, her warmth pressing against your back. Without a word, she begins trailing soft, deliberate kisses along your bare shoulder, her lips lingering just enough to send a message.

For a split second, your voice falters, the smooth flow of your words disrupted. You clear your throat, attempting to maintain composure.

“I—I gotta go,” you murmur into the phone, your tone edged with faint exasperation as Natasha’s kisses continue. “Mmhmm, I’ll call back later with the details.”

You end the call quickly, sliding the phone onto the table before turning to face her. 

Your expression is a blend of amusement and mock disapproval as you take her in. “Really?”

Natasha shrugs innocently, feigning ignorance as she murmurs against your shoulder, “I thought I was ‘love.’”

Your lips curl into a smirk, your brow quirking as you tilt your head to meet her gaze. 

“Oh, are we making certain things between us exclusive now?” you reply, your tone light but carrying a playful challenge.

Natasha huffs a small laugh and rolls her eyes, pointedly ignoring your question as she leans back on her elbows, watching you with a small smile as you finish getting dressed.

After zipping up your jacket, you lean over the bed, running your hand along her bare legs before resting it on her thigh. 

“I do have other clients besides you, you know,” you say, rubbing your hand in small circles before pinching her skin lightly, “Just like how you have other contractors.”

Natasha slaps your hand away with a scoff. 

“Rick’s just a friend,” she says reassuringly.

You hum thoughtfully, your smirk widening. 

“And you’re the only client I ever end up in bed with.”

Her lips curve into a faint smile, unable to hide the flicker of satisfaction at your reassuring words. 

Grinning, you pick up the black case from the table and set it on the bed. 

“So…I guess that means we’ve come to an understanding.”

But Natasha’s smile fades as she pushes the case back toward you. 

“I can’t take that.”

“If it’s about payment, I can give you a discount this time,” you offer, your tone playful. “Considering your…circumstances.”

“It’s not that.” Natasha shakes her head, her gaze dropping to the bed. There’s a moment of hesitation, a rare crack in her usual composure. Finally, she murmurs softly, “I don’t want to drag you into my problems.”

Your expression softens, the teasing edge replaced by something more genuine. You step closer, catching her chin lightly with your fingers, tilting her face up until her eyes meet yours. 

“That’s sweet, love,” you say gently, your voice warm but unwavering. “But unfortunately for you, you’re my favorite client. That means your problems? They matter to me, too.”

Her lips part slightly, a breath catching as the weight of your words settles in. 

You smile, a slow and reassuring curve of your lips, at the sight of the Black Widow so caught off guard by the care laced in your voice and tap her nose playfully in goodbye. 

Before she can respond, you turn on your heel, heading toward the door.

Pausing in the archway, you glance over your shoulder, your silhouette framed by the dim light spilling in from outside.

“Oh, and,” you add, your voice carrying a casual charm that hides just how much you mean it, “whenever you want an upgrade from this charming little safehouse, you know how to contact me.”

A slow smirk tugs at your lips as you lock eyes with her one last time.

“Always looking forward to your call, love.”

And with that, you’re gone, leaving Natasha sitting there, a small, fond smile on her lips.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: just a little cute fluff before I get back into my series. thank you for reading!

[viridianvalor]

wrote something for TTMF tonight for the first time in like 4 weeks 💚 

[mapis-putellas]

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆’𝒔 𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒅?

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x reader

Words: 1300

Warnings: none

Summary: Alexia’s loses her beloved Fred, a stuffed giraffe you’d given her on your one year anniversary.

Notes: Changed my writing style up a little. Hope it’s somewhat okay

You stepped into the house, expecting to find Alexia in her usual spot on the couch or in the kitchen. Instead, the sight that greeted you was an absolute mess—blankets strewn about, pillows tossed to the floor, and Alexia standing in the middle of it all, looking utterly defeated. Her face was blotchy, her eyes red from crying, and when she saw you, her expression crumpled even further.

"Ale, what happened?" you asked, quickly dropping your bag and stepping over the clutter to reach her.

Her bottom lip wobbled as she tried to speak, her voice choked with emotion. "Fred... he's... he's gone," she managed, her accent thick with distress.

You blinked, a mix of confusion and amusement flickering over your face. "Fred?"

She looked up at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The... giraffe. You know," she said, sniffling, her voice trembling. "You gave him... one year ago. Anniversary."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the memory surfaced. For your first anniversary, you'd found a little stuffed giraffe and gifted it to her, joking that it reminded you of her—tall, unique, and utterly adorable. To your surprise, she'd taken to it immediately, naming him Fred and declaring him her "little amigo." Since then, Fred had become a surprising constant in Alexia's life, stashed in her training bag, sitting on her bedside table, and even sometimes making the journey to the locker room with her.

You hadn't realized how much he meant to her until now.

"Fred is... gone?" you echoed, trying to sound sympathetic despite the amusement bubbling up inside you. It was a little stuffed giraffe, after all.

"Yes!" she practically wailed, burying her face into her hands. "I... I looked everywhere. Todo la casa. Todo," she said, her voice muffled.

Your heart softened as you wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Hey, hey. We'll find him, I promise."

She looked up at you, a spark of hope in her teary eyes. "Really?"

"Really," you said, squeezing her shoulder. "You know, Fred can't have gotten far.”

She sniffed, managing a small smile. "Sí... maybe he just... he went to explore."

You started searching the house together, combing through every room. Alexia seemed to be calming down a little with each room you checked, though her anxiety was still palpable as she checked every possible nook and cranny. You turned over cushions, looked under the couch, peeked in closets—even checked the fridge, though that one earned you a puzzled glance from Alexia.

"Just in case Fred got hungry," you said, grinning, and she rolled her eyes, finally laughing a little through her worry.

But after nearly an hour of searching, there was still no sign of Fred. Alexia sat down on the couch, fresh tears pooling in her eyes as she looked up at you. "I... I think he's... gone," she whispered.

You knelt in front of her, brushing a thumb across her cheek to wipe away a tear. "Hey, don't say that. We'll find him, okay? Fred's just... probably hiding somewhere you haven't thought of yet."

She nodded, looking down at her lap. "I just... I feel silly," she mumbled, her accent thick as she tried to explain herself. "He's... only a giraffe. But he... means much."

You felt a pang in your chest at her vulnerability. "He's more than just a giraffe to you, though. He's special."

Her eyes met yours, and she nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "Sí. You... gave him to me. He's my... little Fred."

"Let's keep looking," you said, standing and offering her your hand. "One more sweep, and if we still can't find him, we'll retrace your steps. Maybe he got left somewhere."

She took your hand, squeezing it gratefully. "Thank you.”

After combing through the house once more with no luck, you decided to check her car. It was the last place Alexia could remember seeing him, though she was adamant that she'd brought him inside the previous day.

As you opened the passenger side door, you felt a small thrill of victory. There, tucked neatly into the seatbelt, sat Fred, looking perfectly content.

"Oh my God," you whispered, trying to stifle your laughter as you reached in to grab the stuffed giraffe. "Alexia, I found him!"

She hurried over, her eyes widening as she saw Fred safely buckled into the passenger seat. A mixture of relief and embarrassment washed over her face as she reached out, taking him into her arms and hugging him tightly.

"You... you were in the car?" she murmured to the toy, her voice soft, as if she were scolding him. She looked up at you, cheeks flushed. "I... I forgot him there?"

You grinned, unable to resist teasing her just a little. "Looks like he decided he wanted a front-row seat for the drive."

She huffed, but there was a glint of laughter in her eyes. "Don't... make fun of me," she muttered, clutching Fred protectively to her chest.

You leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm not. I'm just glad we found him. And that he's safe and sound."

Alexia's expression softened as she looked down at Fred, giving him one last squeeze before she turned back to you. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice full of gratitude.

"Anytime," you replied, wrapping an arm around her as the two of you headed back inside. "Fred is practically part of the family, after all."

She gave you a warm smile, resting her head on your shoulder as you walked back into the house together.

That evening, after dinner and a movie, you found yourselves curled up in bed. Alexia lay beside you, Fred tucked under one arm, nestled against her chest as she settled comfortably into your side. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, brushing a hand through her hair as she closed her eyes, clearly exhausted from the day's events.

"Going to sleep with him tonight?" you teased gently, running your fingers up and down her arm.

She nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips as she glanced at you. "Yes. Just... in case. No more... lost Fred."

You chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Sounds like a good plan.”

For a while, you lay there in comfortable silence, the soft rhythm of her breathing mingling with the quiet sounds of the night. She shifted closer, her body warm against yours as she nestled further into your embrace.

"You know," you whispered, breaking the silence, "it was really sweet how much you cared about finding him. It just shows how much love you have in your heart.

She looked up at you, a small blush coloring her cheeks. "It's... because of you. You give him to me, so... he's special."

You smiled, gently rubbing her back as you held her close. "Well, I'm glad Fred means so much to you. And I promise I'll always help you find him if he ever gets lost again."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I'll... keep better eye," she promised, a determined glint in her eyes. "No more... lost Fred."

"Good," you murmured, resting your forehead against hers. "Because I don't like seeing you sad."

She sighed contentedly, her fingers tracing soft patterns on your shoulder as she relaxed into your hold. "Thank you," she whispered again, her voice filled with quiet affection.

"Anytime, mi amor," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

As you lay there, holding Alexia and her little stuffed giraffe close, you felt a profound sense of contentment wash over you. In that moment, everything felt perfect—your heart full with the knowledge that you'd do anything to keep her and her cherished Fred safe and happy.

Eventually, her breathing evened out, and you knew she'd fallen asleep, Fred clutched securely in her arms. You pressed one last gentle kiss to her forehead before settling in beside her, knowing that she'd wake up with a smile, her precious giraffe safely by her side.

**

Tags:

@codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @marysfics @ceesimz @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

[quixotical-lymbo]

Pairing: Orion Pax x gn!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Why did you agree to join Orion on a day out which promised a 'fun' time?  Warnings/Tags: SPOILERS for the transformers one movie, cybertronian reader, running from the law, awkward first kiss, forced bonding/j, flirting, banter, humor, acquaintances to friends to…?, and fluff.  Word Count: 1300+ words 

"...find anything yet?" 

You jumped and juggled the recording in your servos. Gasping as it slipped between your digits a few times before you had a firm hold on it with both servos. You glared at the mech hanging over your shoulder, who rose his servos as he backed up from you. 

"No, nothing yet," You answered as you carefully placed the recording back in its original spot. Your optics ran over the many shelves and cases full of records, a huff left you as you turned to ask, "You?" 

"None," Orion took out a recording and discarded it carelessly. 

"...you know we should probably go," You stepped away from the shelf and approached Orion's back. You stopped just a few steps away from him, peering around his arm to see the mech filtering through the piles on the table. "Before we get caught again." 

"We won't get caught, stop being a wuss," Orion reassured with a laugh. 

"Hey! What are you two doing over there? Wait, is that Orion Pax again?!" 

The two of you shared horrified looks before scrambling from the records as the shouting officers demanded you two to stop. 

"I told you we would get caught!" You blew your top as you sprinted beside Orion. 

"And I'm telling you we won't-!" Optimus turned a corner and grunted when he slammed against a wall. 

"Dead end?" Optimus glanced up and saw the vents were boarded up. "Damn, they really prepared this time." 

"See? See? This is exactly why I should've listened to D to not come with you," You shook your digit at Orion before dropping your face into your palm. "We are going to get demoted for sure." 

"...halt!"

The approaching voices caused you to fret even more, but Orion was immune to the panic as he focused on finding a way out of this. He glanced around the corridor before his optics landed on a window. 

You felt something grab your wrist and before you could squeal you were pulled along. Your optics fell on the window that Orion was leading the both of you to and you began shaking your helm frantically. 

"No, no, no, don't you da-!" 

"Too late for that!" Orion pulled you close and shielded your frame with his as he rammed through the glass. 

A scream ripped from your intake as the two of you pummeled toward the ground, other cybertronians and the like zooming past the two of you.

Fortunately, the two of you landed on an overhang attached to a wall, the force ricocheted you both into breaking another window and falling inside of a building. Orion rolled with you in his arms for a few seconds until he rolled onto his back, then he unwrapped his arms from you. 

Out of breath and gasping for air, You and Orion gawked at each other for a moment before a giggle left your dermas. Orion couldn't hold back anymore and also broke out a fit of chuckles while you weakly dismounted from him and sat on the ground. Your optics observed the broken pieces of glass that led to the elevated window you two entered from.

It….was really high up, not even Orion seemed tall enough to reach it. 

 

"What did I say? We wouldn't get caught and here we are now! Not getting screamed at or forced to work another long hour of-" Orion faltered as did his optics observing your back. Him seeing your shoulders slump as well as the lack of your usual taunts spooked him. 

"...___? Is something wrong?" Orion got off of the ground and joined you by your side. He placed a servo on your shoulder and leaned forward to gauge your reaction. 

"Pax…" You began. "We're trapped." 

"What?" Orion's optics widened. 

"Look." 

So he did and he didn't like what he saw. 

Orion examined the building they were in and how dark it was. There wasn't any light sources other than the light streaming in from the window. Everything else was boarded up and the room appeared…abandoned to say the least. 

There were a few boxes and carts here and there, but other than those things it was fairly empty. 

"Scrap," Orion hissed. "Look, ___, I-" 

He turned to you and shut his trap up when you held up a servo. 

"It's fine, I expected things to go to scrap the moment I agreed to go on this 'outing,'" You curled your digits to make the 'quote-on-quote' gesture before dropping your arms. You turned on your heel strut and walked over to the nearest wall and slid down onto your aft. Orion watched you go, his face twisting with a flurry of emotions before he decided to sit beside you with his legs stretched out. 

"..." You couldn't find the strength to speak or entertain a conversation now of all times. You didn't hate Orion, or find him that annoying like every other bot did. In fact, you liked him, more than you were willing to admit to his face or D's (who had an inkling and brought it up one time–but you quickly shut that down before his smug ideas could land you in trouble). You curled your knees to your chassis and burrowed your helm in your arms.

"..."

"Soooo…you come here often?" 

You raised your helm enough to peek your optics out and give Orion a look.

He smiled back. 

"Yeah, I come here all the time when I want to avoid dumb idiots like a certain red and blue mech," You shot back as your tone came out harsher than intended. 

Orion halfheartedly giggled before shooting you with another ridiculous response, "I'm pretty positive that the red and blue mech doesn't mean any harm…and he's very very sorry." 

You couldn't hide the smile growing on your faceplate. Rolling your optics and making contact with the bigger mech's face, you played along with his game. "Oh, is that so? Because I don't think bringing me to a dark, scary place is an ideal first date I'd imagine us going on."

It was Orion's turn to look at you. Stunned as his cheeks flushed with a light hue. 

 "Well, I, uh…" 

You looked away and smirked at your win. Even if he laughed it off or rebuffed you, it was nice that you could make him shut up for once. 

"...I could take you somewhere nicer…for next time." 

You almost had a whiplash from how fast your helm turned on your shoulders. You studied Orion's face for any signs of this being some cruel joke, but nothing prepared you for the soft expression and heated gaze that allowed you to drink in all of its vulnerability. 

Oh….oh.

"I'd love that," You admitted, optics shying away from his intense gaze. You unfurled from the ball you curled in and placed your servos on the ground.  A relieved sigh rumbled from Orion's chassis as he turned his gaze to stare off into space, his servo slowly inching away from his side and toward yours. 

You flinched when something tapped your pinkie, you peeked down and saw Orion's digit nudging against yours. Your dermas curved as your faceplate was set ablaze, you hooked your digit around Orion's—who in turn interlocked your servos together. 

The two cybertronians glanced up from their joined limbs and stared into each other's optics. 

Time slowed as the two of you leaned forward, you could practically hear each other's sparks beating wildly as the gap sealed with a kiss.

His dermas gently pressed against  yours, his other servo cupped the back of your helm and your own rested on his chassis. The kiss was soft and a bit awkward as Orion's forehelm knocked into yours a few times. Nevertheless, it was a wonderful experience. 

As you tilted your helm to deepen the kiss-

A loud bang caused the two of you to separate and stare at the two guards who blocked the only exit of the place. 

"EW! Public displays of affection and breaking into an official building is not allowed!" 

😼 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. star banner by @enchanthings !!

[risuola]

CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — F. READER x GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything

It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly.

cw: smut, exes to lovers, strangers to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play, oral (f & m receiving), su*cide is mentioned (no description, just brief mention), reader discretion is advised — 6k words

masterlist

a/n: with that post I'm concluding the kinktober - sorry about the delay! work overwhelmed me, it sucked the life out of me, but I'll be getting back to writing now, so stay tuned! also, we hit 1300 followers, so I just want to say thank you so much for being here and reading the shit I post!

You were never that big on parties – you found them mostly annoying with the masses pushing and pulling all around you, drunk assholes that never seem to understand how consent works and even more drunk girls, that throw themselves at anyone slightly attractive. At least that’s how you remember every party you were on during your college years. You experienced firsthand how much effort men can put into chasing a hem of a mini skirt and you also saw in real life, how women were flexing their assets just to get into the pants they want. Unfortunately, usually pants that were in the biggest demand, were coincidentally belonging to your boyfriend. Uh, yeah, maybe that’s why you don’t really like parties.

Dating Satoru Gojo was a blessing, in some parts – he was just lovely to you. He was caring, to some extent, he was sweet-talking you into everything he wanted, and his arrogance always seemed to fly right over your head, but you loved him for longer than he deserved. You trusted him to not sleep with those eagerly spreading girls and he never did. At least that’s what you like to believe. Flirting with them – that was a different story. Satoru was an attention whore, really. He was basking in the gazes glued to him, the salivating mouths were feeding his already enormous ego and he seemed to have the time of his life pulling the strings of those poor, naïve girls that every time believed him when he told them they are just so pretty. His crystalline blue eyes were capable of turning lesbians into straight and straights into gay. The number of suggestive pictures he posed for flooded your social media each time after the parties you attended with him, and not one of those pictures he’s ever taken with you. And then, after leaving the frat houses and clubs, he would tell you how lucky you are to have him, how all of those silly girls were offering him their pussies oh so eagerly. He’d tell you how they envied you. All while he’d fuck you. You spent two years with him, then came the break-up and just as everything that involved Satoru was messy – so was your parting.

You really had no pleasure in partying, after freeing yourself from the toxicity of Gojo, you finally found peace. You flew through college with ease and after it ended, you found yourself quite a nice job – you were okay without attending any kinds of alcohol and loud music related people gatherings. That’s until Shoko called you earlier that month, practically begging you to pay her a visit on Halloween. She was in the city, having her family house all to her disposal due to her family being on a trip somewhere warm. It was a party where all of your college, mutual friends were going to be, a little reconnection if you will and she insisted you show up as well. It really sounded lovely to see where all of your friends landed in lives. With some you still had a regular contact, but some just went their ways and you rarely crossed paths with them, so you agreed to be there. That was a perfect opportunity to catch up and you were excited.

For some unknown reason, not even once you considered Gojo to be there as well. You just kind of pushed the memory of him to the back of your head, you removed him from the picture of your mutual circle of friends and completely you forgot that he’ll most likely be there as well. You realized it when Shoko asked you about him.

“Have you seen Gojo already?”, her tone was quite cautious when she mentioned the name to you, and with the way you looked at her from above your dying cigarette, she spoke again, “You know he’s gonna be there as well, don’t you?”

“Guess I blacked out that possibility,” you mumbled, shrugging softly to shake off the uneasiness of the thought and killing the cig in the sink before throwing it away. “No, I haven’t seen him and I hope it will stay that way.”

“Oh, you’re still wounded after him?”

“No, Sho, I’m not wounded,” you grabbed yourself a red cup from the array on one of the tables in the kitchen. You had no idea what concoction of liquid courage was inside every each of them, but you really couldn’t care less. If that was one of your first parties in years, you were not going to be picky and you trusted Shoko enough to not have death in those cups. “I’m really not. Thing is… I don’t know, it’s been so many years, I’m not really sure what to even tell him. We broke up in a mess that wasn’t addressed ever since, so you know.”

“Yeah, right, I remember the insanity of that action. Gojo was haunting my dreams for two weeks after the suicidal stunt he pulled off.” Ieiri flinched at the memory but laughed right after realizing how stupid all of that was. “He was a drama queen, we have to give him that.”

“See?”

“Well, you’ll most likely see him anyway, so just a hi will be good.”

“Noted.”

She left you to greet someone, and you shook your head, hoping to get rid of the flashbacks, but they were inevitable, you guessed it. Long time after ending things with Gojo you couldn’t find peace after what happened. You think you will forever remember the argument that unraveled after you told him you’re breaking up with him. There was so much screaming, your head pounded with pain for two days straight after that. Nothing more than accusing of the most bizarre shits and poison was spilling from his mouth when, for the first time, Satoru Gojo was informed that someone else is leaving him. Usually, it was him who ended things up, it was him who was cutting the strings and he was too immature back then to come to terms that other people are also entitled to just go away. You remember he went completely feral, almost psychotic as he was laughing at some point, throwing ironic insults at you as if it was gonna make you stay. He had to prove a point that it’s not you who want to leave him. It’s him who want to break up and you just accidentally happened telling him that before he managed to do so. After that, he threatened you that he will kill himself and he made it everybody’s problem – you had to know it, Shoko had to know it and every single one of your friends had to know it as well. You heard from Ieiri that after about three weeks he got back to being his usual arrogant playboy, as if he didn’t just cause drama of the century. He moved on. Traumatized everyone around him, but moved on nonetheless. Now you found the situation kind of funny. You were just kids and you were not meant to be together. That’s just how life works and you wondered sometimes if Satoru learned a little more life after that or did he stay the same.

Sighing again, you took the cup and slipped in between people in the living room, stepping outside to breathe some fresh air on the terrace, thankful that no one was there. Or so you thought and no wonder you almost jumped out of your own skin when you heard a voice right next to you.

“Fire?” He asked, after a moment of watching you search for the lighter in the pockets of your makeshift schoolgirl uniform. The unlit cigarette in your mouth betraying what you were looking for.

His tone was soft, saccharine sweet and calm at the same time and as you looked up at him, it somewhat matched the picture that met your eyes. The man was tall and broad, dressed all in black with dress pants and a hoodie. His sleeves half up, exposing the veiny forearms as he was keeping his lighter visible, ready to give you a hand.

“Yes, please,” you replied finally, leaning into the fire he opened and with relief you take the first breath in. You were not a smoker in your day-to-day life. One pack of cigarettes lasted you a year, but it was Shoko’s influence that today made you poison your lungs more than usual. “Thanks.”

“I’m Suguru. Geto Suguru,” he introduced himself, offering you his palm and you gave it a short squeeze, telling him your own name. You couldn’t find his face in your memories, and you’d like to think that such handsome features would tattoo themselves into your brain in one way or another. He had to come with someone else, you figured. Probably a boyfriend or a husband even. You couldn’t care less about asking. “Enjoying the party?”

“I’m not big on parties, really,” you shrugged, keeping your gaze away from him because hell, he made it so easy to stare with his long luscious, black hair resting over his shoulders and back, half tied up in a little bun just to get them out of his face. You couldn’t tell what his costume was, he had some kind of alternative style going on, slightly rocker vibes with his pierced ears and silver chains hanging from his neck, but it might have as well be his usual style – he looked good in it. He most certainly looked like a big, red flag but hell was the flag attractive.

“I see. Well, I’m not either,” he confessed, huffing out a greyish cloud of smoke out of his lungs and by the smell of it, you could tell it wasn’t nicotine.

“What you’re smoking?”

“Weed, why? Wanna try it?” It was an offer that you should politely say no to, but it was your first and probably last party in a while, so you asked yourself why not and took the joint from his fingers.

“So, you’re here with someone?” you questioned, just to keep the conversation going once you gave him the smoke back. You could feel the unfamiliar but somehow pleasant burn in your lungs after the drag you took and slowly you blew the fume out. Suguru found the view attractive. Sharing a joint with you felt a little more intimate than it should have, the way your lips wrapped around the brownish paper made him wonder how would they look wrapped around something else. Thoughts like this shouldn’t bloom in his head right after he’s met you, not when he’s an adult man, not a stupid kid anymore, but some things couldn’t be stopped.

“Yeah,” he inhaled once more, deeply enough to kill the joint and throw it away. You watched for a moment how he kept the smoke in his lungs, letting it go after a moment. The cloud escaping through his mouth and nose in a soft stream. Fuck, what a gorgeous man. Whoever was the girl that got him had to be lucky. “You know him, he told me about you.”

Oh, never mind.

“He? Ah, fuck, don’t tell me you came here with that idiot,” you reached down for your cup that few moments prior you put on the ground while searching for a lighter.

“Ow, you’re hurting my feelings, sweetheart.”

And there he was. You wondered where that tower of an asshole hid.

Once you look back at Geto, there was also Satoru. He was standing next to his friend slash partner, with his forearm propped over Suguru’s shoulder as he looked at you from above the black glasses, with the very familiar grin painted on his face. Gojo changed a lot since you last saw him. He was now buffier, seemed even taller than you remembered, and his facial features matured – his jaw became more square, eyes a little more lidded and even the smirk on his lips seemed less playboy-ish and more menacingly manly. He lost his princess looks and became a man. You wondered if his character changed as well, because you could still see him using his looks to take what he wanted.

“Oh, do I?” You questioned, eyeing him up and down. His clothes were almost exactly the same as Geto’s – only difference being the light color and the fact his sweatshirt had no hood. What he was wearing completely contrasted to what his friend had on and it made sense if they were here together. Black and white, like yin and yang. You had no idea if they were here as friends or lovers, but either way, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“You sure do,” Satoru shook his head, his smile now more friendly as he approached you, entrapping you in a hug that surely took you by surprise. “It’s good to see you, beautiful.”

“You too,” you guessed, not completely convinced about what you just said but you let it be.

“I’m sorry. I have to say it before you run away from me. I’m really sorry, I was a dick when we were dating,” Gojo’s voice reached your ears directly, but you had a hard time believing what you were hearing. He was never a type to apologize for anything. Please, sorry and thank you is a set of words that you were certain he never used and yet there he was, saying just that. He really evolved. Or he wanted something.

“Yeah, you were. Hope you’re not anymore,” you chuckled softly, brushing your hand over his side.

“I try not to be,” he confessed quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your neck before letting go of you. He shouldn’t have kiss you like that, but the feeling of longing was way stronger than him. Even if for a moment, he had to just have a little taste of you.

Ever since you broke up, Gojo had no idea how much he missed having you in his arms. Up until that night he was okay with some random girls coming into and getting out of his bed with no strings attached. He seemed to be unable to form a lasting relationship after you, you were his first and last girlfriend that he committed to for so long, no matter how poorly. Even if he was nothing but an asshole to you, he often wished to marry you back in the college. Even if he couldn’t possibly show you how much he cared, because his childish behaviors were standing in the way of him reaching your heart properly, he really thought you will be the one and only in his life and even if he seemed to move on so quickly after you broke up with him, it was only for show. A cover up for the thunderstorm that was raging inside his chest, a band aid over the bleeding wound. No other girl was able to even half-fill the emptiness you left in his heart.

You were special to him and it thrilled him to the core when for the first time he heard from Shoko that you agreed to be there, because if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t show up as well. His time for partying finished along with his fourth year of college, when he realized there was less and less fun in drinking alcohol and forcing himself into flirting. When it came to you, he had never needed to force himself to do anything. He was just an immature kid when you dated, but he loved the time you gave him.

And now, you were still fitting perfectly into his body. As if he was made from memory foam that still remembered your shape. Now, you were still just as beautiful and breathtaking as he remembered you. In your little, schoolgirl mini skirt, thigh-high socks and a white button up shirt with a loosened tie you looked way sexier than you had a reason to. It’s been quite some time since he was that aroused from just looking at someone and you made him harder than he thought is possible. Fuck, what you were doing to him?

“So, what do you do now? Still living from party to party and from girl to girl?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink. It was strong and it really was better for you to take it in slowly, but there was a certain burn of nervousness tied to meeting your ex that you needed to drown.

“No, it’s in the past,” Satoru replied, inviting you inside, where all three of you found a nice place to sit on one of the couches. You landed between the two men. “I took the lead of my father’s company, Suguru’s my partner in crime. We’re doing good, I don’t party anymore. Honestly, if Shoko didn’t give me a sign that you will be there, I wouldn’t probably step by.”

“Oh, so you came to haunt me,” you joked, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Yeah, kind of. Couldn’t reach you before and wanted to sort this whole mess out. I’m usually cool with having enemies, but you’re not someone I want to have as enemy.”

You gave his words a soft roll of your eyes. Maybe few years back you’d let yourself be sugarcoated into believing him, but not now. Maybe, just maybe, he matured a little, but some things will never change. Gojo was a flirt, is a flirt and probably will always be a flirt. But hell, was he cute. You cursed his innate ability to attract you from a mile.

“Sure, whatever,” you shrugged and the conversation after that was flowing nicely. You got to know Suguru, you learned who he is and why did he stick with Satoru. It was a friendship they developed that kept them together and maybe it was thanks to Geto that your ex wasn’t so much of an asshole anymore. Maybe it’s the brunette’s calm personality that somewhat grounded the playboy. Or maybe it was all an illusion. Yea, it had to be an illusion. There was no way that these two six-foot-three giants were not causing some troubles.

Yeah, they were a trouble. Double trouble, to be exact, and you got to learn that when the doors of one of many bedrooms on the floor closed behind you. You don’t even know how and why you agreed to go with them anywhere in the first place. You had no idea how on earth did Satoru sweet-talked you into fucking him again. For the old time’s sake, my ass. And more important, how did he sweet-talked you into fucking not only him, but also Suguru? At the same time?! You were not built for this, that’s for sure.

“Let’s have fun like we always did, yeah?” Gojo had this typical, shit-eating grin stretched on his face, when he was pulling you by the wrist onto the bed. Geto took his time and lit up another joint, opting to just stand and watch for now. He had a smirk on, his eyes were fixed on you, and you could tell that they weren’t new to sharing a woman. It really was obvious they did that before.

You had no time to think if that surprises you at all. Satoru was a stranger to patience. He never enjoyed waiting and always went straight for what he wanted, and this time was no exception.

“God, you look so fucking hot as a schoolgirl,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck, nibbing and kissing wet marks onto your skin whilst his fingers were already dealing with buttons of your white shirt. Your body acted on its own accord, responding to the red stains of his lips and the cold touch of his fingers with excitement that you felt for the last time when you were in college. It bothered you that you still were so receptive to the way he feels on you, you thought that you’re way over the Gojo effect but seems like you were gravelly wrong. “What a naughty one,” Satoru chuckled, his voice bordered a moan when he finally opened your shirt and your shapely tits, hugged beautifully by a lace bra entered his field of view. “Fuck, I missed those.”

“You’re talking too much,” you grabbed him by the hair, tugging the snow-white strands at the base of his neck and pushing his face down your neck and onto your chest, hoping it will shut him up. That was the issue with your ex. He really was a phenomenal lay but he was just talking so damn much. That was what ultimately pushed you over the edge when you were together back in the day. You just couldn’t stand listening about other women while he was with you.

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, sucking a red spot onto one of your tits, earning himself another tug on the hair.

“Don’t mark me, idiot,” you warned him, but it was already too late and both of you knew it.

“My, my… so nervous. Let me help you relax,” Gojo smiled wide and made you lay flat on the bed. It took him no time to find his place between your thighs and before you even got a chance to react, he was already pulling your panties off of you. For a split second, your mind got distracted by the subtle scent of weed that’s filling the air. The smell that reminded you that it’s not only you and your ex in the room, but also another person.

“Don’t worry about me,” Geto smiled. Something mischievous lingered over his lips as he did before he took another drag. The joint between his fingers slowly but surely becoming smaller as he was saturating his lungs with the fumes, only to breathe them out after a moment.

“Are you not going to join?” You asked, your voice slightly breaking into a whine once Satoru flicked his tongue over your clit, reminding you how well he spoke the language of your body. He was fluent in your pleasure, you were never sure if it came to him with experience or was he just naturally gifted, but either way, he had a skill and was proud of it. He began eating you out like he was starving for the past decade. His tongue worked the puffy nub of nerves all the way around, he sucked and licked, slurped and kissed your cunt, causing your body to jolt in pleasure. He was purring while between your legs, his long fingers already working their way into your hole. The stretch was delicious, the symphony of his mouth and hands was slowly driving you insane.

“You’re so sweet,” Satoru mumbled, taking the pleasure away to smear some wet kisses along your inner thighs. “She’s so incredibly sweet, Suguru, you have to taste her,” he added, accentuating the thought with a bite onto the fat of your thigh. His friend just chuckled, making his way towards you and he handed you his half smoked joint.

“I’d love to,” Geto replaced your ex between your thighs. He kept looking into your eyes when he opened his mouth, presenting you with his pierced tongue. Little, metallic ball in the middle of the muscle glistened in the artificial lighting and it made you moan out loud, when he swiped it along your slit, gathering your juices. There was something absolutely intimidating about his calm demeanor, something nearly diabolic but it was exactly what attracted you to him. He was complete opposite to Satoru. He wasn’t bright and loud; his eyes weren’t big and vibrant. He looked mysterious, he kept himself quieter, his eyes kept the focus that Gojo couldn’t achieve. They really were made for each other.

“Oh god—,” your eyes nearly rolled back as he began working on your swollen clit ruthlessly. You had no idea if it was because of the piercing or was it just his skill, but it felt even better then when the snow-white was between your thighs. Or maybe it was just you being so turned on by him.

“You like it?”, your ex asked, grinning as he was taking the time to undress himself. “Knew you’re gonna enjoy it.”

You spared him the comment, losing the track of thoughts in the way Suguru was making you feel. You could have sworn you never felt something like this, he was just incredible with the way his tongue was engraving his own name into your clit. Cold metal of his piercing doubled down the pleasure you were receiving, contrasting with the heat of his muscle.

Your thighs began to tremble, your toes curled in, and you felt yourself quickly falling down the hole of ultimate lust. Euphoria was rushing through your veins; your heart was drumming in your chest as the smoke was leaving your lungs after the drag you took from the joint in your hand. Suguru was pushing you over the edge with such ease it felt illegal. You could feel him grinning proudly from his spot between your legs, you could feel his fingers gripping your hips with bruising strength, keeping them in place while he was slurping your soul straight from your weeping pussy.

Your orgasm exploded and you called out Suguru’s name. He didn’t stop. He kept drinking, thirsty for more of you as your juices coated his tongue and the bottom of his handsome face.

“You really do taste fucking sweet,” he commented, getting up and crawling above you. His lips were on yours the moment he reached your face. He tasted the smoke and you tasted yourself in that kiss. It didn’t last long, but the intensity of it made you almost dizzy. “Let’s get you out of this uniform.”

 It took just few moments until you were completely bare underneath the heavy gaze of two men around you. Satoru was just in his underwear, the tent in them painfully apparent and you knew him well enough that he won’t be able to wait much longer, but what bothered you was the fact that Suguru was still completely clothed. He looked sexy in his dark outfit, but he can look sexy in it later.

“Aren’t you a tease—” you muttered, once he got up from the bed to drown the rest of the joint in what little of alcohol was left in one of your cups on the bedside table. “Take this off.” You demanded, coming up to your knees and pushing his hoodie up.

“How demanding,” he laughed but complied and you managed to just blink twice before his god-like figure presented itself to you. A muscular, large body beautifully decorated with a dragon tattoo that wrapped its tail around his right bicep and spread on his back. You couldn’t decide what to focus on – his impressive musculature, the ink on his skin or the fact that even though he still had his pants on, you could already feel yourself salivating.

Satoru was right behind you, swiping the angry tip of his cock up and down your folds, gathering your slick and making you shiver from the touch. He then pushed his girth into you, stretching you impossibly and pulling a quiet, whiny fuck straight out of your throat. It’s been a while since you’ve been having sex with anyone, not to say anyone with that size, but you couldn’t deny that the burn was delicious. It set all your senses on fire, the heatwave washed over you and once Gojo went with the first thrust, it reminded you how much you missed the physical act of intimacy with him.

“Can’t focus, pretty girl?”, Suguru brought your attention back to himself. His long fingers gently gathered all of your hair into a messy ponytail, and you got the hint immediately. As on cue, you unbuckled his pants, pushing them down almost too eagerly. “Good girl.”

The praise in his tone got you weak, you were already becoming a mess from how perfectly Satoru was fucking you right now, pounding his hips against yours in the mind-numbing manner. His cock hitting all of the sweet spots inside of you with each long stroke and that was enough to make you almost incapable of thinking straight, but your hands and mouth acted on its own.

Geto watched how your lips wrapped around his dick. The sight of you taking him into your mouth with such hunger was something he wanted to engrave onto his brain and if the picture was amazing, then there was no word to describe the feeling itself. Your soft, plush lips felt divine brushing along his sensitive shaft, your tongue dancing around his length made him almost lose his composure. You were a sight. And you made him feel so good, he could feel himself twitching in the hot, wet embrace of your mouth. You were sucking him as if your life was depending on it, as if it was your last supper and you wanted to devour it and every time his plump tip hit the back of your throat, he could feel you taking control over him.

“Isn’t she amazing?”, Gojo mumbled from behind you. His grip remained iron on your hips, the bruising force being the only thing that was grounding you now. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your juices were running down your thighs and the wet sounds of skin slapping against each other were filling the room.

“Oh, she is,” Geto confirmed, applying some force onto your head. The tug on your hair was enough to send you overboard and the vibration of your throat once you moaned were enough for him as well. You couldn’t tell who came first, and frankly, you couldn’t care less about it, as long as it felt so damn good.

“I, fuck— I told you,” Satoru panted out. His hips moved slower as he was sloppily riding the high out. You licked the cock in front of you clean, satisfied with the first course but hungry for more.

You shouldn’t allow all of this to happen. There was not a single argument that could justify everything that was happening right now – you shouldn’t sneak out to god-knows-whose room in your friend’s house and you absolutely shouldn’t sneak out there with not only your ex-boyfriend but also his friend. You couldn’t even remember how you agreed to that. Why have you agreed to that? You had no idea. Was it to talk?

You wouldn’t exactly call the way your body was being stuffed full by two cocks at the same time talking. You were squeezing Suguru’s shoulders as he was thrusting his hips up against yours. His body below you, laying flat on the bed made for a canvas for your nails to leave marks, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was kissing you with a mixture of passion and laziness, a smirk stayed prominent on his lips as he was swallowing your moans. The subtle taste of weed in his mouth got you wanting more of him. He felt perfect in every way, his movements were setting your nervous system on fire as the heat was spreading over your entire body, radiating from your core. You could feel Satoru’s fingers teasing your clit, you could feel his lips smearing wet trails along your spine. The way his hips were moving seemed to be perfectly in sync with the brunette.

You were so full of them, you never felt something like this before. The initial pain you felt when Gojo pushed his girth into your asshole was long gone now as he was pounding into you in complete unison with how Geto was moving. The sensation of being so incredibly full turned your brain into a heated mush, your body was trembling between them, electrocuted time after time with a sharp waves of white pleasure. Your vision was blurry, the stars covered most of it. You could no longer tell whose hands were where and your thighs were wet and sticky from all the seed that was being pumped into you, gushing out with every piston of their hips.

“You’re so perfect for us,” someone told you. A low, rasped out voice resounded right next to your ear, followed by a harsh bite onto your shoulder and the sudden wave of new pain that radiated from it pushed you over the edge. You were speeding, falling with no parachute. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as the climax was overtaking you. “Such a good girl, you’re making so much mess.”

“Oh god,” you whimpered, gasping for air as their thrusts picked a pace. You couldn’t form any coherent sentence as they were fucking the soul out of your body. Right after you came, they both came as well. Their cum coated your insides and leaked onto your thighs, dripping down as they pumped into you some more.

Gojo was first to pull out, spreading your cheeks and admiring how his white overflown your hole. The menacing grin spread across his face as he gripped your hips and lifted you off Suguru’s cock. The long-haired man sat up as you, led by your ex’s hands turned to straddle Geto’s lap. Your back was facing his chest as he pulled you back onto his shaft. All of his length sank right into your ass, pulling a moan right from your chest.

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” Satoru was in front of you, admiring for a moment your bouncing figure before his long fingers slipped into your cunt, curling in a way that got him pressing onto your oversensitive sweet spots. “Open your mouth for me.”

You barely registered his words, but your jaw dropped nonetheless. His cum coated digits slid right through your lips and you sucked on them, twirling your tongue around and tasting the mixture of your juices and their seeds. Suguru’s hands were kneading your breasts as his friend was playing with the mess between your thighs.

There was something deeply erotic in a way the white-haired man kept your gaze up. How he looked right into your eyes while you were being fucked by his best friend, how he enjoyed the way you gave them your body to play however they wanted. And it felt even more erotic when Satoru licked the lone drop of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth only to kiss you right after.

Geto was still slamming his pelvis up and you got stuck in the realm of pleasure, hanging somewhere between the movements of the cock in your ass and the lips over your own. You could feel your thighs trembling. Your body, still oversensitive from the last orgasm and yet, already entering the state of another. The wave of lustful relief now flowing dangerously close to your core, the knot in your stomach holding just barely and you squeezed Satoru’s hair, tugging at them harshly. You were struggling to breathe through the heavy kiss he was laying on your lips, but the sensation of it rendered you unable to fight it.

And then it hit you once again. The man below you filled you to the brim, tearing down the last bits of composure you had and your world shattered once the final climax. You felt as if the lust and desire were steaming off of all three of you. The breaths were mixed and the tastes concocted. As all three of you fell onto the bed, blissfully satisfied, you began to slowly regain your mind to the sound of a soft chuckle from your left side. Satoru. He had a habit of laughing when he was fulfilled – a sign of his happiness, the state nearing high. There was some gratefulness in it as well.

“How are you feeling?”, the question came from the right side, where Suguru seemed to already plan how to take care of the entire mess. He kissed your shoulder softly.

“Good,” you replied to him, watching as he gathered himself up from the bed.

“You rest a little bit longer; I’ll go get washed first and then you two.”

[adimouze]

post-las vegas WDC max/daniel, rated M. ~1300 words. @girlsdads mentioned something about a lil bit of LL hating in a fic so. I did a lil bit of LL hating too.

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A face floats into Max’s field of vision probably three hours into the fifth different party Max had been shepherded to since the race ended. He’s about ninety-percent sure he’s still in Las Vegas. He blinks blearily at it, hoping at least it’s pretty enough to look at. It has been a while since. Since.

Liam Lawson blinks back. Not who he was expecting. Gross. 

“Max,” he says, sounding too sober for whatever time it is. The club is loud but Max can still unfortunately hear him. “Are you okay?”

Max attempts a sweeping gesture, he’s carrying a glass of something and it hits someone’s back, making Max drop it with a smash. Liam cringes, looking like he’s about to complain. “This is my party, mate,” Max says, cutting off whatever Liam was going to say. “I’m fucking great.”

“Christian just left,” Liam says, and Max kind of hates how he talks but what can you do. Maybe he just doesn’t like Liam. “I think there’s another party happening a few blocks from now, do you want to join me?”

If Christian left that means Max can leave without theoretically offending anybody, even though it is his party. Half of the people around him don’t seem like people he knows anyway. “Nah man, you go on ahead, I’ll head back to the hotel –”

“Oh then I’ll head back with you,” Liam’s probably the most cheerful he’s been since Max met him. “Yuki scored and left me here.” 

Pity isn’t something Max feels often, but he does feel a bit of pity now. In his first year he was never left alone in clubs, either Carlos or Daniel were always there making sure they were around to get him back to wherever before they took someone home or to their hotel rooms. More often it was Daniel, and more often Daniel didn’t take anyone home, because they were sharing a room and more often it was just fun to watch onboards together, side by side. 

No one else but them. 

Then again, Max was a teenager in his first year and Liam’s twenty-two. He wouldn’t need babysitting. 

“Alright,” Max isn’t sure where he is. He doesn’t know how to ask Liam without sounding like an absolute idiot. 

“I have a car waiting,” Liam adds, after Max stared off into the distance for a few seconds, willing someone to appear with a car. Maybe Max isn’t being as subtle as he thought he was. 

_____

Red Bull and VCARB drivers are often put up in the same hotel, usually the standard room but Helmut had finangled him a penthouse upgrade on Thursday, telling Max that he deserved a proper room to party in, like Max was going to bring home an orgy. 

He’s pretty sure Liam couldn’t possibly have gotten a penthouse upgrade too. He’s sure hotels only have one penthouse? He’s sure. If he was less drunk he would be surer. But Liam makes no move to push any buttons. 

“Mind if I come up for a nightcap?” Liam asks, smiling. This is the most Max has seen him smile ever since he got Daniel…ever since Daniel left and he jumped in the car. Max does not want him to come up for a nightcap but Max is feeling generous tonight. 

“Sure, why not.” Someone had spilled what seems like a bottle of champagne on him at some point in the night and his shirt is sticking to him. He’s too tired to shower. Meh. It’ll be a problem for hungover Max tomorrow. 

The lift goes up insanely fast but still feels too slow for Max tonight. He’s WDC, four times WDC, he’s used to faster things, sue him. Liam is still staring at him. 

“Good driving tonight,” Max says, for want of anything better to do or say. He has no idea where Liam finished to be honest. 

“I finished 16,” Liam says flatly. Yikes. Well. 

The door dings open onto Max’s floor. And. 

Daniel’s sitting on the giant sectional of the penthouse living room. 

He looks gorgeous. Max wants to stare forever. He looks broad and good and tanned, his beard has filled in a lot more than when Max last saw him in Monaco, his hair thicker. The sweatshirt he’s wearing looks less oversized than usual, fitting his shoulders instead of drooping over them, and his trousers make his thighs look great. 

He’s smirking. He looks like a frat guy. He looks like one of those men from Victoria’s magazines that Max definitely didn’t jerk off over. 

Max is probably drooling, and Liam runs into him as he’s stepping out of the lift. 

“Oh sorry mate I – Daniel, hello.” Liam’s voice is a bit high. Confused. Probably scared. “Didn’t realize you were in Vegas. Red Bull didn’t…”

Daniel stands up and comes over. Max is still staring. Daniel moves like an apex predator and Liam’s just the runt of litter in this.  “Hey Liam. Well. Red Bull doesn’t own me anymore mate, do they? I can be wherever I want.”

He claps Liam on the shoulder in greeting then grabs Max’s limp hand. “Came to see my boy be the World Champion again.”

Liam’s probably saying something but Max doesn’t care, because Daniel’s pulling him in, arms going around Max, sticky shirt and all, and Max is going to swoon because Daniel smells good, good, good, their lips meeting after ages, Daniel’s lips and tongue the best, most refreshing thing Max has tasted all night. Someone’s moaning. 

It’s him. 

“Um…”

Liam’s still there. 

Max tries to pull back but Daniel’s got his hands on his ass, lifting, lifting, and Max’s legs going around him in response, and Daniel’s got them on the sofa in a second, Max perched on Daniel’s wide wide thighs without even separating their lips once. It’s the hottest thing Max has ever felt. He’s going to come just from the thought alone. 

“Liam,” Daniel’s saying, pulling back a few centimeters to give Max some breathing space. “I’m going to fuck my husband on this sofa right now, and he’s going to be screaming loud enough to be heard from the moon. So like,” he pops the k, and Max’s dick twitches, precome dripping into his underwear, “unless you want a front row seat to that for some reason, shouldn’t you be heading to bed?” 

“Husband?” Liam’s stuttering. “Excuse me? You can’t – Does Christian know? He’s going to be so mad at you, Max what the fuck –?”

“Get out,” Daniel says. Max has never heard him sound like that. “Now.” 

“I’m calling Christian,” Liam says as a parting shot. “He won’t – he’s not going to allow this.”

“Yeah you do that, mate,” Daniel rolls his eyes then squeezes Max’s ass harder. God, he’s so hot. Max feels insane. Husband husband husband. “What’s he going to do, fire me again?” 

The lift dings shut again. They’re blessedly alone. 

“Husband?” Max snorts, shivering as Daniel’s fingers undo his pant buttons. “Bit presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”

“The ring’s in the suitcase, baby,” Daniel says, smiling like a wolf, fingers curling around Max’s dick. Max grinds into the feeling, needing Daniel inside him right now. This is the best day of his life. “Was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Let me think about it,” Max laughs, and Daniel bites his nipple through his shirt. “Liam’s probably told the Herald by now.”

“I’ll personally send him the wedding photos,” Daniel cackles, licking up Max’s neck, leaving wet trails in the cold air con of the room, “if he promises to send me photos of Christian when he tells him I was about to fuck him in front of you.”

“Stop talking about Christian and fuck the World Champion already, husband,” Max says, his laughter turning into moans when Daniel all too willingly complies.

[shh-om]

k¡nktober day seventeen - threesome or moresome with all nine main demons

~1300 words

cw non con drugging , drinking , groping , butt chugging , alcohol , non con , filming

“Mhm? Is something different about the Demonus tonight?” your eyes begin to lid as the castle ballroom goes a bit out of focus. Mammon catches your arm as you stumble and lift your glass to observe the golden liquid.

“Oh?” Diavolo chuckles as he dances his way over to you. “I must’ve forgot to mention I had Barbatos mix in some Human World alcohol into tonight’s brew.”

You frown. “I should- I should probably stop drinking now…”

“MC~,” Asmo grabs your shoulders and plants a fat kiss on your lips, tasting wine and flowers. You groan into the kiss, blinking hard.

“I need—,” your head spins and pounds as you pull away from Asmo’s soft, soft lips. “I think I should lay down.”

“Awh,” Asmo whines and Belphie perks up.

“Come here, MC,” he motions to the spot at the table next to him and you sway as you walk over to him. Beelzebub clears the whole area of the table that you’re sitting in front of, taking the cups and plates and serving bowls.

You hum as Belphie grabs you and makes you rest yourself up to your breasts on the table. Your eyes slip closed and you feel someone’s hands, gloved, maybe Barbatos or Lucifer, fondling your chest and you weakly try to shove them away. Alcohol tugs at your mind lulling you into lethargy.

“Mhmm, stop it,” your words come out slurred as your cheek presses into the table cloth. Someone shushes you and across the table someone lifts you by your armpits to lay you vertically on the table.

“Hm?” You try to look up, Beelzebub’s blurry face coming into view. “What’s— What’re we doin’?”

“Shh, don’t worry,” Lucifer’s voice.

“No, wait, what’s—?” You sniff as Belphie’s hands tug down your dress pants, exposing your underwear. “Don’t do that!”

“Shh, it’s okay, just relax, MC,” Belphie rubs his hands over the curve of your behind as he says it. You whimper into the tablecloth as your underwear is stripped away and discarded.

Embarrassment spikes your heart when slender fingers pry open the lips of your pussy. Tears well up in your eyes from the humiliation and you want to do something about this, whatever is going on, but you’re so tired.

“Awh,” Asmo’s colorful nails snag your attention as he coos over you. They tenderly cup your face and he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Just relax,” Mammon pets over your hair.

It’s hard to relax when Belphie’s rubbing his fingers over your dry slit.

He needs to stop, you think. You’re in the middle of Diavolo’s ballroom, and you aren’t in the mood. What would Diavolo do — think of you — if he saw this?!

“Wait,” you attempt to lean up, but the heavy petting on your hair from Mammon makes it hard to lift yourself. Both from the pressure and from the part of it soothing you.

“Shh,” Mammon murmurs into your hair.

Something warm and wet rubs over your slit, and it takes half a second before you realize that it’s Belphie’s tongue. There’s a kiss pressed into your hair, but it does little to stop the trembling sob from leaving your chest.

Another hand begins undoing the lace of your shirt from the back. From the skill of the fingers you assume it’s either Asmo or Satan. It makes you sniffle and try and squirm away.

The tongue against your hole has begun arousing your body, making slick begin to leak from your pussy.

“It’s okay,” Mammon mumbles against your scalp. “Just relax, it’ll be so much easier if you just let them in.”

“Nngh,” you can’t find the words to disagree with him. It halfway turns to a moan as Belphie’s lips wrap around your clit, and his tongue rapidly flicks over the sensitive bud. Your hips weakly squirm away from the stimulation but you get nowhere.

Your top falls from your body and a rush of cold air raises your nipples to peaks. A large, warm hand scoops under your body to fondle one. The other breast is quickly taken hold by a smaller hand, but fondled as well.

“This ‘s wrong, stop,” you protest.

“Do you think they’ll remember this tomorrow?” A voice, Satan’s you think, although the cloudiness of your mind has a lot of room for error. You jolt as a pinch is sent through one of your nipples, a weak shout leaving you, encouraging Mammon to place another soft kiss to your hair.

“Not if we keep them drinking at a steady rate.” Lucifer, or is it Diavolo?, replies. Shoes click against tiled linoleum and another hand ruffles through your hair and grabs hold of your skull, lifting you to meet the red gaze of Lucifer.

He takes in the daze on your face, sighing before gently dropping your head. He says something to someone, but it’s too quiet for you to understand.

Belphie is too good at oral for your own good, and your legs clench and unclench fruitlessly as you cream over the demon’s face. You swear you can feel him smile against your sticky sex.

“My turn?” A deep voice, Beelzebub’s, asks and one of the hands on your breasts disappears.

“Take their mouth, I want this side,” yes, that’s Belphegor speaking.

Mammon helps another pair of hands maneuver you so that your head can just slightly go over the ledge of the table and your eyes get up close and personal with a humongous erect cock. Based on the ginger pubes, it is Beel. Then his hands pry your mouth open and the tip of his cock slips into your mouth.

You hope he doesn’t force you to take the whole thing, it’s far too large for you to live through that. Luckily, for your life, he only fucks your throat in quick, shallow thrusts.

On your other end Belphie’s sliding into your spit slicked hole. He whimpers lowly, and begins a slow rhythm of thrusts.

There’s the sound of multiple zippers all at once, and muffled the starting sound of a DDD beginning a recording. Fuck, someone is filming.

The notion that you’re being recorded as you’re being taken advantage of, makes a fresh wave of tears build up. They’re brushed away by Mammon’s tender hand as soon as they fall, another round of shushing on his end.

It takes far too long for the twins to finish their assault on your holes before they ejaculate into you. You choke on the absolute tsunami of semen that Beel delivers and he pulls out of your mouth with a creamy-spitty dick. Belphie also pulls out after creamping you.

A chilled bottle rim ghosts over the rim of your ass and cold alcohol trickles over the lip and makes you shiver. The rim is lodged into your hole and there’s a brief moment then all of the chill of the drink comes flooding into your ass. You cry out in shock as your bowels are forced to contain the liquid.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Barbatos’ slender gloved hands adjusting the angle he’s filming, and you cringe fruitlessly away from the lens.

In front of you another cock, Diavolo’s, appears, he’s rapidly jerking himself off and aiming at your face. More of the demons you had been partying with surround you, all tugging on their dicks like their lives depend on it. Just when you think you’re in the clear from any more penetration, Diavolo sets his heavy tip in your sore mouth.

Fuck.

Someone, you can’t crane your neck to see who, presses into your wine filled ass. They shallowly fuck into your hole, making the liquid slosh around uncomfortably.

Your body begins to tire and the alcohol in your system begins to make you lethargic. The last thing you remember is:

“They won’t remember this, right?” You hope you don’t.

[jintaka-hane]

[Kiss your blorbo at the New Year’s Eve event]

Asked by: @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @limitlesstildil @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

KID

Summary: It's New Year's Eve and you're about to disembark from the Victoria Punk forever, but as midnight approaches, a certain redhead will make you reconsider. Word count: 1300 Warning: x gn!reader; some angst; fluff All my stories are written entirely in Spanish and then translated into English, so I apologize for any mistakes I might make.

A sigh leaves your lips in the form of vapor that lingers for a moment before dissipating into the cold air. You smile, looking ahead, your eyes fixed on the distant celebration and joy reigning on the island you are about to dock. There is so much happiness... It’s the last night of the year, and everyone wants to spend it celebrating with their loved ones.

Your eyes drift down to the bundles resting at your feet. Your whole life packed into those three suitcases. Not that there was much to pack, you think to yourself, you are used to moving from one place to another, anyway.

Resting your arms on the frozen railing of the Victoria Punk, you flex your numb fingers to restore circulation. Your cheeks, rosy from the icy air, soften with a hint of a bittersweet smile at what seems to be bonfires on the beach. The ship is still minutes away from docking, but you can almost smell the food roasting over the flames and hear the distant songs and laughter.

Another sigh escapes you, and your gaze shifts upward to the blanket of stars spread across the sky. It’s cloudy, but they shimmer brilliantly through the clouds, like scattered pearls floating in a deep, black sea.

Your time aboard the ship is nearly over.

You never planned to stay this long, but what was meant to be a one-week passage turned into a month, and that month, thanks to the unpredictable routes and whims of this eccentric, punk-rock crew, stretched into three.

At first, you thought the crew would be a challenge for you, like the tightly-knit group with little trust for outsiders they seemed to be. But in reality, they welcomed you with open arms sooner than you expected, making it clear that beneath the spiked hair, metal studs, and leather jackets hid a large, warm, and friendly family.

The captain, however, was a different story. From the start, he made it abundantly clear that you didn’t belong. The scowls, the tightly pressed lips, and the way he crossed his arms disapprovingly, glaring at every step you took across his deck, said it all.

But now his misery is about to end.

You are finally reaching your destination, and soon, you’ll be out of his sight for good.

Your eyes are still fixed on the sky when the sound of heavy boots thudding against the wooden deck reaches your ears. You know those steady, defiant steps by heart, and you’re surprised he’s bothered to show up to say goodbye.

“How much longer until we dock?” you ask, refusing to give him the satisfaction of turning around.

“Twenty minutes,” you hear him say.

“Good…”

You don’t say anything else. You don’t turn around either. He stays rooted in place behind you, just as silent. The only sounds are the music and chanting growing clearer as you approach the island. As a freezing breeze bites at your cheeks, you decide to speak again.

“At last, you’ll be rid of me, huh?”

“I… uh, yeah…” he mutters behind you.

Not even a basic farewell, you think, frowning as you force yourself not to care. You focus on what looks like a bunch of glowing kites soaring into the sky from the beach. But the way Kid just stands there behind you, frozen, begins to unnerve you. And what’s with that uneven breathing of his?

"I…" he starts but hesitates.

Your icy fingers tap impatiently on the railing, and with an exasperated huff, you spin around to face him.

His almost-frozen goggles keep his messy red hair in place, his oversized coat hangs loosely over his shoulders, and his painted lips curve downward into an unpleasant scowl.

Basically his usual look.

But there’s something… something in his posture you can’t quite figure out. A hint of vulnerability, perhaps? Whatever it is, he seems to be fighting it.

“Probably won’t see each other again,” you add, trying to sound casual.

His intense amber eyes lock onto yours, filled with the confusion of someone who wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

“Probably,” you barely hear him mutter with feigned nonchalance, yet a slight twitch in his face betrays him as his jaw tightens so much it looks like he might break his teeth. You shake your head, and all hope of having a cordial conversation with him leaves you.

He slowly moves to your side and rests both arms on the railing, and the two of you just stand there, staring at the beach party in the distance. There's still a few hundred meters to go, but you can already spot groups of kids setting off firecrackers and couples dancing joyfully to the rhythm of the music. As you watch another group preparing what looks like fireworks, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, Kid suddenly slouching and lowering his head in defeat.

“I CAN’T,” he gasps, finally breaking.

You immediately turn toward him, and your eyes widen in surprise at seeing such a man, his back hunched and trembling, his eyes shut tight, and his canines jutting out between his bared teeth.

"You can't what, Kid?" You raise your hand to place it on his back to calm him, but you leave it hanging in the air, too hesitant to touch him.

"LOSE YOU," he answers, burying his head further between his arms, tilting it to one side to hide his face from you. His metal hand clenches into a fist, and he slams it into the railing, sending splinters of wood flying through the air. "FUCK! Why do I always lose EVERYTHING?!”

You gasp, and your hands attempt to move to your mouth, but instead they go to his shoulders, grabbing and forcing him to look you in the face.

“Kid look at me! What are you saying?”

As his tightly shut eyes open, a stray, bitter tear slips down his cheek, smearing some of his eyeliner. But even in that state, he tries to look at you menacingly.

“Is it because I’m not strong enough for you? Is that it?”

Your round eyes dart between his, and you realize then what's happening. This grumpy, big guy, with his zero talent for feelings and words, is going to be your downfall. Without saying a word, you cup his chin with one trembling hand and, with the other, gently wipe the tear from his cheek. In the distance the countdown to midnight starts.

Ten! Nine! Eight!

'Kid, it’s not—'"

“Stay,” he says, locking his sharp, amber eyes with yours.

Seven! Six! Five!

“Kid…” you whisper again.

"Don't leave me," he says, lifting his hand to cover yours on his chin. "I'll get stronger. I've already beaten a Yonko, I'll beat the next ones I come across and make you proud... I'll defeat every Yonko we cross paths with... but don't leave me…”

Four! Three!

Your breath catches in your throat, and your hand slides softly from his stained cheek to the back of his neck.

“Stay…” he sighs, tilting his head and bringing his lips closer to yours.

Two! One!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

Your lips brush against each other for a sweet second before yielding, finally melting into a rough, possessive kiss. A kiss that puts an end to your insecurities, and allows Kid to say more than he could ever express with words.

His warm lips steal all the air from your lungs, and his flesh arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer. He keeps his other arm against his back, avoiding touching you with the frozen metal. You wrap your arms around his neck, and laugh softly into his kiss as the cheers and shouts of New Year's celebrations fill the air.

As the rattle of fireworks exploding in the sky hits your chests, their lights bathe in multiple colors the passionate couple you have finally become on the icy deck of the Victoria Punk.

.................................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid @nocturnalrorobin @daydreamer-in-training <3

[deliciousnecks]

Ok, let me start with this by saying that I'm not writing to change anyone's point of view, because honestly? don't care and I'm tired. I just want to share my opinion over this matter. everyone sees and experiences things differently, so with that out of the way...

Like I knew before the season started that there was going to be issues with people if nandor & guillermo went canon, because it wasn't going to happen how they wanted it, if the characters didn't ended up kissing or fucking or the usual, and here we are now..

Anyway! people saying that "we're settling for scraps" let me tell you that we're not. You want a explit love confession, but this is Nandor, that was not going to happen. Now, people say "oh, but he confessed his love to the guide, to all those other people" he didn't, because he was not in love to begin with, he said all those words but there was no feeling or real meaning to them, it was only a rehearsed speech that at this point he has repeated more than 1300+ times. what he feels for guillermo is love, selfless, caring, genuine, love, and this is why this relationship between them feels so different to the other relationships he have with those around. Him giving Guillermo another one of those "I love you" confessions would have made him just another one in the list, but he's not.

This "Unbreakable alliance" speech, has more meaning than any other "I love you" that this dude has been parroting and saying to the first stranger that crosses his way and decided to be nice to him. Also, I know that some people were like "but there's no kiss so it doesn't count" I'm sorry, but like... I'm gonna be honest with you, i think that would have been a bit OOC for both characters to all of a sudden kiss, in front of everyone and the cameras and all that shit. I have always imagined these two having their first kiss in a more private setting and perhaps away from fucking cameras, but hey! that's me.

Let's also not forget in all this, that we have never seen Nandor like this. Nandor all this time has been nothing buy a depressed sad potato even when he was been "in love" with all those others, but finally after so many years, he's feeling alive, because being with Guillermo, having this bond with him, having him as his equal and in his life forever, has given his entire existence a new purpose and a new meaning. He can't see himself living without guillermo now. Guillermo has brought meaning to his life after who knows how many centuries, and he's willing to become a better person for him.

Also! a bonus here! people saying that all the progress of the season was lost and we're back to s1 just because Nandor told Guillermo to let go of his hand, like... are you fucking kidding me? are we for real here? that's just nandor being nandor, that's his personality. what? did you think that just because the guy found the meaning of his life in guillermo (the love of his life. yes. i said it it) he's about to change his entire personality within seconds? it doesn't work like that, no relationship works like that.

so, no, we're not settling for scraps, we're not being delusional. if you're not happy with this, that's ok, but don't assume that everyone is going to feel the same way you do.

For those that are happy with this moment, this was more deep and meaningful and intense than a simple "i love you" or a "simple hand clasp". These are two characters that have realized that they want each other in each other's life, and not because it's a MUST, but because they have chosen for this to be this way, because they want it to be this way, and no one or anything can break this, not even all these difference they have going on between them, one being a vampire, the other being a human & slayer. nandor literally said "fuck that" and let's be together forever.

[lix-ables]

ʚ : WHEN THEY TEASE YOU ₊̣

FT. chan, minho, changbin, hyunjin, jisung, felix, seungmin + i.n.

NOTE. helloooo !! yes its been a while since i wrote, but i was reading something and this just came to me i hope you like it. its short i know, but aaa show this some love ‹3 happy reading dovies 🎀💌

MDNI, SMUT INCLUDES – making out, grinding, edging, handjobs, cockwarming, teasing, dirty talk, nipple play, sexting, that's it ig . (words: 1300) ©lix-ables 2022.

B.CHAN … chan sure as hell would be the type to tease you after a long day. if you’re tangled together in bed, his body trapping yours close to him, he lets his fingers dance over the material separating your skin and him. he won’t care if you’re desperate and grinding up against him. you don’t know when or how your clothes came off but the next minute he’s naked waist down, and rolling on top of you, his leg sliding between yours and grinding against your centre.

“mmmm nuh-uh, darlin’” chan murmurs when your fingers reach between your bodies to grab his dick, but he gently swats it away. “you’re always on your knees for me, making me feel good. it’s my turn now yeah?” he lowers his body, his face in front of your stomach, kissing the spot right above where you need him, and he can feel you bunch up the sheets under your fist. “fuck…”

L.MINHO … minho is the type to straight up just tease you when you’re so close to the edge. and picturing this scenario exactly – he has his face buried between your thighs, pussy drunk ofc, his fingers shifting from caressing your skin to digging his nails into it when you wrap your legs around his head. every time you’re so close, his head lifts up, fingers still caressing you, and by the time he’s done with you, you’re sore, edged and frustrated with his actions because he promised you that he’d let you come around his fingers. “one more, baby. this is the last one, yeah?” he promises as he goes down on you again, your fingers gripping the sheets under you because you’re that sensitive, while minho praises you, “shit, you’re so tight. that’s it, baby, let go.”

S.CHANGBIN … changbin loves to rest his head just on your tits, his fingers either stroking your sides or reaching to grab one of your breasts in his hand, his face turning to the side so he can leave kisses over your shirt material just to hear you sigh. when your fingers find his hair, tugging on his strands and pulling him closer, he takes this as an opportunity to slide his fingers inside your shirt, lifting himself so he’s not crushing you. his lips are pressed against your skin, fingers moving upward to lift up your shirt and expose your chest to him. “so pretty …” he starts, his lips press open mouth kisses to each of your tits, before starting to suck on the now sensitive buds. “n-need more, binnie–” “you need to wait baby, im not done with your tits, hm?”

H.HYUNJIN … not the kind to tease you often because this boy is all about pleasure, but when he’s in the mood, he’s fully in. be in his car, or his apartment, or even if you’re out with him at a party and you’re surrounded by people. you can expect his hands to be all over you, little touches here and there, tugging on your hair when you look away from him for just a little while – he loves it. he especially loves it when you’re glaring at him from across the room and he sends you a text like:

H.JISUNG … like hyunjin, if jisung had the chance, he WOULD tease you, not caring where you are. this means he would DEFINITELY take you up to his room with his roommates just outside, and just tease you. so much. even if you tell him that there are people who might hear you, and he just doesn't care. what he cares about is you, coming for him, moaning out his name and sighing you’re reaching your high. the fact that you’re grinding your hips against his hand, begging him to let you come, because you’re that desperate? makes him hard. instantly. for sure would be inside you if he could, but all he wants is you clawing at his back, pushed up close to him as he thrusts into you.

L.FELIX … oh my god, when i tell you that felix LOVES LOVES LOVES it when you initiate things? like if you’re watching a movie that he loves, or you’re just on your phone and you accidentally brush your fingers on his thigh, a slight caress. you bet your life he loves cockwarming with you because it is fun — at least he claims it to be. all because he can move under you, and scold you lightly for tightening around him. his voice is low and husky in your ears, his fingers wrapped around your waist, but also when he reaches to grab his phone or a book he “accidentally” thrusts into you, and you whine. he doesn't care, just minding his own business until a text comes from him:

K.SEUNGMIN … i know for a fact that this boy would LOVE teasing you so much to the point that its so amusing to him? picture this – he’s sitting next to you, your fingers find his dick and you’re stroking him, trying to get a moan, a whimper, a grunt, SOMETHING out of him, but he just sighs. like he’s bored or fidgety. the moment his fingers find your neck though, grabbing you to pull you closer, your action fastens. seungmin leans in to bury his face in your neck, his lips touching your skin and you feel the heat radiating. “thought it was my turn now,” he mumbles, and you’re pretty sure his kisses are going to leave a mark on your skin. “fuck, just like that,” is the first thing he says when you squeeze his length a little while you’re stroking him, and you’re so focused on him that you dont realise his fingers trailing down to your thighs, so dangerously close to your centre, until he pushes your panties to the side, and slides his fingers into your pussy. your thighs wrap around his hands and you pull away, making him hover over you a little, his free hand now holding you down almost as he pushes his fingers to be buried inside you. “told you it was my turn,” he mumbles, his thumb now teasing your clit in slow motions. “lemme take care of you, and you’re going to take whatever i give you. yes?”

Y.JEONGIN … cockwarming with jeongin is the only thing that makes me lose my shit because when i tell you, he is so fucking cheeky and amused by it that he lOVES teasing you so so much, just to get back at you. that's because once before, on the ride home, you almost made him cum in his pants – your palm rubbing over his already-forming boner, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightly, to stop you because he wants to focus on driving. “please innie, i just want to help,” you mumble, a pout forming on your lips and he glances at you. “would you rather i nut in my pants or in you baby?”

“both?”

“fuck, you’re going to be the end of me,” he mumbles because now you know he’s given up. but also, you knew he would get back at you, and today was that day. “baby, stop moving or i swear im going to lose it,” he mumbles, but his fingers say otherwise. his hand moves in front of you, spreading your legs wider for him, and already working his way to your clit. “w-what are you doing,” you turn your head to face him, causing him to grunt, because now your walls are clenching around his dick and all he can think about is fucking you. “turn around once again, and im fucking you right here, right now. stay still while i play with you.”

🎮 . taglist . @mnwrld @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @comet-falls @niijo @chvnnie @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @hwan-g @idek-at-thispoint @es-kay-zee @writerracha @lethallyprotected @lino-jagiyaa @zoiescastle @compersian @jilixcuddles @teaspeungmin @eulaenthusiast @chriscentric @iadorethemskz @abcdefgiwsmcty @l3visbby @yukichan67 @hoshologies @zee17

[clairewritesandrambles]

Scott needily grabbing your ass when he’s cums when you’re on top… 🫢 those hands 😩

Anon. ANON. Please, I am not strong enough for this today.

He doesn't let you get on top often. He prefers seeing you underneath him, either fucking you into the mattress from behind or watching your cock drunk face while you're a mess for him. So when he does? Oh, it's even hotter to him than usual.

Note: I wrote this with a plus-sized reader in mind, because my body is the exact reason why I actually hate being on top in my own sex-capades.

This spiraled. I started thinking this would be like 100-200 words. It's almost 1300. I hope it's good.

CW: Spanking (once), breeding, talking of body insecurity, Scott being sweet for once?, Claire talks too much

"That's it, baby. Nice and slow. I want to see you shaking from how bad you want my cock." Scott was reclined against his stack of pillows, one arm obnoxiously tucked behind his head while the other hand rubbed soft circles into your thigh.

"Scott... Please just fuck me." Your voice was soft, unable to hold his hungry gaze as he took in your form straddling his thick thighs. You felt too exposed, even with your hands resting on his chest allowing you to obscure some of his view of your body.

Shaking his head, he took the hand under his head and used it to caress your hip. "You're not getting out of this that easily. I wanna see you fall apart on my cock before I even think about having you under me." Seeing the uncertain look in your eyes, he threaded his fingers through yours as a soft, reassuring smile touched his lips. "You can do it, beautiful."

"Scott," you whined, "please." You shifted uncomfortably on him, thoughts running through your head a thousand miles a minute. Thoughts of your face from his point of view, the look of your body, and the feel of your weight on his hips and chest. Would he be turned off by it? Would it feel good for him? Not for the first time, you worried about Scott seeing the flaws you saw in yourself and realizing what he has gotten himself into.

You're jostled from your thoughts by Scott readjusting himself to sit up to your level, the concern on his face indicating he'd recognized the look of overthinking on your face. He always teased that he knew you better than you knew yourself and in moments like these you believed him.

"Talk to me. What's wrong?" He bumped his forehead against yours, giving you no option but to look into his eyes while his strong arms held you close.

"I just..." You trailed off, considering playing it cool before you saw him raise an unimpressed eyebrow, already a step ahead of you. "It feels good, right? I'm not too heavy or anything?"

A large hand snakes its way to cup your jaw, making you instinctively lean into his warmth. You always loved it when he used his hands on you, seeing them flex as he held and touched you, and the warmth they provided.

"You always feel amazing, baby. I could spend the rest of my life with you on top of me, letting me see that beautiful body of yours, and I'd feel completely at peace." He whispered these words like a sacred promise, his thumb dragging on your bottom lip as he softly angled his head even closer to yours. "I am so fucking in love with all of you."

Your entire body heated at his words, your hands grabbing at his face to join his mouth with yours. His tongue licked into your mouth, stealing your sighs as one hand slipped around your back while the other trailed down your jaw to land at your throat.

"Now," he said, breaking the kiss, "ride my cock like a good girl." He leaned back as his hands encircled your hips, his hair falling into his lust-filled eyes.

"Yes, sir," you mocked, leaning forward to brush his hair back into place as you pressed one last kiss to his lips. Your hips lifted on his cock before you sat back, drawing a heavenly moan from his lips, the sound mixing with his words and touch to spur confidence into you.

His grip was bruising as you rode him, profanities mixing with praises as you bounced on his cock. You knew you'd wake up with marks tomorrow, Scott's fingers brushing over them with a satisfied sigh as you two dressed for the day. 

"You feel so fucking good, baby." He breathed, thumb brushing over your clit. Your pussy clenched in response, a strangled sound escaping Scott's mouth as he threw his head back in pleasure. "Come on, beautiful. Come for me, I wanna feel you fucking leaking down my cock, you can do it."

You didn't even have time to react before your orgasm washed over you, making you cry out his name and clench around him. He shot up to a half-sitting position, catching you as you collapsed on his shoulder. "Fuck, good girl. You're so fucking good for me."

With his hand behind him providing more leverage, Scott started thrusting into you, fucking himself even deeper into you than he already was. All pretenses were dropped as he desperately chased after his orgasm, his other hand gripping your ass as he pulled you down to keep as much of him inside of you as he could.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight, I can't wait to fill you." He mouthed at your neck, your fingers grabbing onto the hairs at the base of his neck as he sucked a mark onto a sweet spot. Praises fell freely from his mouth now, his grip on your ass tightening before crescendoing into a firm smack. "Gonna fill you and get you fucking pregnant."

His words drew out a sound that didn't even sound human, making you clench around him once again as a second orgasm rocketed up to settle as a tight ball in your stomach. You could hear his smirk as he continued: "You want that? Want me to pump you full of cum until you can't take anymore? You'd take more though, if I told you because you're so fucking good for me." You weren't even in control of your own body at this point, hips desperately meeting his thrusts. "God, I'd fucking love to see your body while you're pregnant. Nice and full of me, wearing little loose dresses around the house so I can fill you over and over again. Fuck I'll keep you nice and bred every day."

His words rip a second orgasm from  you, your body spasming as you kiss him again, all teeth and tongue through the rush of passion. More filthy words continued to escape against your lips, Scott losing coherency in the throes of his building orgasm. He fully straightens up, both hands grasping your hips to push you down onto him as his cock twitched and filled you. Deep grunts filled the air as he continued minuscule thrusts, the aftershocks of his orgasms continuing to go through him. As he came down, he mouthed at your jaw, dropping down your neck and chest before finalizing with a soft kiss in the valley of your breasts.

Satisfied, he leaned back against the pillows, more strewed on the bed than before. You moved to lay beside him, causing a discontent sound to come from his throat as he pulled you back down onto his slowly softening cock. "It's not going to stick if you get up right away. Gotta make sure it works." He spoke like he couldn't believe you'd think of getting off.

"How stupid of me." You rolled your eyes, taking in how good he looked with a sheen of sweat glistening off his skin and curling his hair.

He smirked knowingly at you, seeing you take in his appearance. But his words didn’t match the arrogant expression, instead reflecting only the soft look in his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too. You're going soft, Miller." You taunted, reaching out once again to brush a hair off his face when he caught your wrist.

"Only for you," he conceded, pressing a soft kiss to your pulse point and pulling you to lay on his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

[httpiastri]

sunrise serenity – jmm21

your first morning with pepe, after your first night together...

genre: fluff + a little little suggestive

pairing: reader x pepe marti

warnings: hmmmm a few suggestive mentions but that's it i think

word count: 1.3k (like, exactly 1300.... kinda freaky actually)

requested: again not rlly lol but there have been asks abt more pepe stuff soooo :)

author's note: hehe a little more pepe love <33 idk thinking about waking up and seeing his gorgeous tanned back- 😶 it makes me freak a little ngl. anyway. hope u all have a lovely weekend <3 also i *just* realized that i forgot to use any spanish in this lol hope u still enjoy :)

f2/f3 masterlist

‎‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎

the room is so light, way too light, when your eyes finally flutter open. keeping them open is a constant battle, with the rays of sunlight peeking past the blinds stinging like you're staring straight into the sun itself. you just want to roll around and bury your face into the pillow underneath you, but something about the feeling of the pillow against your skin feels unfamiliar... and that's when you realize.

right. this isn't your own bed, or your own apartment – it's pepe's.

your eyes are fully open by now, butterflies waking up in the pit of your stomach as they roam across the room. seeing a pile of your boyfriend's clothes folded up on a nearby chair, the pictures of his family and friends hung up on the walls, all of the other little quirks that just scream pepe; it's all so unfamiliar, yet so comforting and heartwarming.

this isn't your first time being in this room, but it's the first time you see it in this light. the first time you wake up in this bed, the first time you're in his room at this hour of the day. you and pepe have been dating for a few months now, and you've been planning for the first time you stay overnight in his apartment for quite a while. last night, it was finally time – and you've probably never had as good of a night's sleep before in your life. from the fact that he cooked you a very fancy dinner, to the way that his fingers danced across your skin when you lied next to him in bed; everything was just perfect. and going grocery shopping together, helping each other clean the dishes, brushing your teeth side by side…

it was hard not to imagine what it would feel like to spend all your days like this. it all became so real, so domestic, and you never want to go back.

the sound of pans clinging together along with a quiet swear reaches your ears and you can't help but let out a chuckle, finally pushing yourself up to sit on the edge of the bed. you reach for the first piece of clothing you can see, which turns out to be the oversized shirt pepe wore last night, and you pull it over your head before rising from the bed. your body is still a bit sore, but the sweet aroma of pancakes meeting your nose gives you the energy to keep going.

you stop in your tracks when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror right by pepe's bedroom door – or, more exactly, the sight of your neck.

the trail of lovebites your boyfriend left stretches from your jaw and down under the collar of your shirt, and you know you'd be met by many more if you looked underneath it. the artwork is so mesmerizing that you have to shake your head to bring yourself out of your trance, slightly embarrassed by the way your stomach flips just at the sight of some hickeys.

when you eventually make your way into the kitchen and your eyes land on your boyfriend, you almost swoon. the sight of him from behind is just gorgeous; his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his tanned, broad back practically calling out for you to come and kiss it. you're not sure if he's heard your footsteps or if he can just sense your presence, but pepe shifts slightly after a few moments. "good morning."

"good morning," you cheer back, beginning to stroll over to him. when he looks over his shoulder and takes in the sight of you, the way the hem of his shirt reaches the middle of your thigh and your slightly messy bedhead, a little laugh slips past his lips. your eyebrows pinch together. "what?"

"nothing," he says, arm wrapping around your shoulders once you reach his side. "you're just cute, that's all."

you coo playfully at him, hand reaching up to cup the side of his face before getting on your tippytoes. pepe meets you halfway, lips sealing against yours with ease.

"slept well?" he asks when you pull apart, his hand dropping down to your hip and pulling you in closer. his other hand works on flipping the pancake in the pan, a hint of a smile on his lips as if he already knows the answer.

"really well. you?"

pepe nods before leaning his head against yours. "you were out like a light yesterday," he says with another chuckle. "i swear, the second your head hit the pillow..."

you let out a groan. "i'm sorry."

"no, don't apologize!" he interjects immediately. "we had a long day. you looked so peaceful, it was adorable." he pulls his head away, looking down at you with a grin. "seeing that calm side of you was interesting, honestly. it's a far cry from how you are when you're awake, i'll tell you that."

"hey!"

your exclaim is followed by a press of your elbow into his side, which he answers with a quick kiss to your temple. you wriggle out of his embrace, to which his eyebrows shoot up – but when he watches you push yourself up to sit atop the counter next to the stove, legs dangling from the edge and feet swinging in the air, he relaxes again.

pepe places the pancake on a plate by your side, before pouring a thin layer of batter into the pan. "do you usually have pancakes for breakfast?" you tease, biting back the smile that wants to spread across your lips when your boyfriend's free hand lands on your knee.

he shakes his head, thumb drawing circles into your skin while he spreads the batter out evenly in the pan. "i wish." there are a few moments of silence before he turns to you, a slight smirk on his face. "though, i know something i'd rather have for breakfast every morning..."

tender fingers brush a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear before resting right below your jaw as pepe leans in, nose nudging yours to draw out a giggle from you. and then he kisses you, his smile pressed against yours as your eyes flutter closed. your hands come up to rest on his shoulders, the feeling of his warm skin and the strong muscles beneath it sending a shiver down your spine.

pepe tastes faintly of toothpaste with just a hint of sweetness, as if he's already had a sample of a pancake. when his lips part, yours follow his lead, and you can't help the sound that leaves the back of your throat as he licks into your mouth. your arms wrap around his neck for stability and his hands reach for your waist, pulling you forward and into him.

when his kisses begin to travel along your cheek, your legs wrap around him almost out of habit. you sigh, the way his lips move down the side of your neck making your head spin. but your skin is still so sensitive, and the little whine that escapes from your mouth has him pulling back. he blinks down at you, but it doesn't take long before he understands.

one of his fingers traces along the marks he's left down your neck, a content and proud smile on his lips. "i'm sorry," he says, though you both know there's no sincerity in the apology.

"don't be, they look good," you start, leaning forward to seal your lips again. "and they felt really good, too."

the groan that vibrates from his chest has you smiling against him yet again. "you can't just say that. you're gonna have to stay over way more often now."

"deal."

[verstappensrealwife]

A Second Chance - Lando Norris x Reader

[lando norris masterlist  / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... reader gives lando one more chance to prove his love. ʚɞ angst, fluff  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 1300 words ʚɞ warnings: fighting, swearing. lots of time cuts

-୨♡୧-

He'd been distant for months, seemingly indifferent to your final year of university. The rollercoaster of emotions, from being ignored to fervent pleas for your company, only to be met with anger when you prioritise your studies, has left you drained. His words, oscillating between confusion and outright rejection, always ended abruptly.

His words pierced the air like daggers, each sentence laden with frustration and desperation. "I don’t understand why you won’t spend time with me?" he'd lament, his voice tinged with a sense of betrayal. And then, in a sudden shift of tone, he'd declare, "No, Y/N, I don’t want to see anyone right now!" The finality in his words left no room for negotiation as he abruptly severed the connection, leaving you alone with the weight of his words echoing in your ears.

You were exhausted. of university stress, incessant arguments, and endless nights. Exhausted of him.

Now in Australia, supporting your boyfriend, you followed quietly, the aftermath of yet another weekend argument hanging in the air. But amidst the turmoil, the racetrack thrived. Fans flooded the grandstands, eager for the excitement about to unfold.

As you stepped into the F1 paddock in Australia, a vibrant tapestry of sights and sounds enveloped you. The air was alive with the hum of engines revving in the distance, the scent of burnt rubber mingling with the faint aroma of fuel. Colourful team banners fluttered in the breeze, each one a testament to the fierce competition that awaited on the track.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, you caught glimpses of mechanics working feverishly on sleek race cars, their metallic surfaces gleaming under the bright Australian sun. Everywhere you looked, there was a sense of purpose and urgency, as teams strategized and drivers prepared for the challenge ahead.

Celebrities and VIP guests mingled with team personnel, their animated conversations punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional roar of an engine. The paddock buzzed with energy, a palpable anticipation that hung in the air like static electricity.

In the distance, the grandstands loomed large, a sea of eager faces eagerly awaiting the spectacle that was about to unfold. It was a scene of controlled chaos, where every detail was meticulously orchestrated in pursuit of victory on the track.

After a great race from your boyfriend, him placing P3, you both went back to the hotel to get ready for some after party.“And umm, i was wondering if you were gonna come to my graduation. I checked and it’s not during a race weekend and-”

You were cut short by him hurrying you out the door, “Yeah, baby, ill be there,” He said dismissively and pushing you quickly towards the exit of the hotel.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air, coiling around you like a relentless serpent as you stood on the precipice of your greatest moment yet. Each passing second felt like an eternity, nerves tightening their grip on your every fibre, threatening to unravel your composure.

With each beat of your heart, the tremor of excitement mingled with a hint of apprehension, sending shivers down your spine. This was the culmination of years of hard work, the apex of your academic journey, and the weight of its significance bore down upon you like an invisible burden.

"Y/N Y/L/N!"

With steady steps, you ascended the stage, eyes scanning the crowd, eager to spot familiar faces among the sea of spectators, parents, cousins, aunts, uncles. all there to witness your triumph. Yet, amid the sea of loved ones, an empty seat caught your eye, causing a fleeting pang of disappointment to flicker across your expression. Swiftly, you masked it behind a determined facade as you exchanged pleasantries, accepted accolades, and grasped the coveted parchment wrapped in ribbon before gracefully departing the stage.

Of course, he didn’t show, why would he?

-

And of course a screaming match erupted between you two. 

“It was one fucking ask for you to come and you were what?!”

“S-streaming…” God he knew he fucked up.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” You shouted, “Do you not care about my accomplishments anymore or is it just your own you care about now?”

He sighed, clearly getting agitated, “Fuck- Of course not! But its not like youre there for mine either!”

You scoffed incredulously, was he serious? “Because- Lando- I have a fucking job, I have school!”

“And thats more important than me?”

“When did i say that? ugh do you know what?” You stopped yourself and walked off from the kitchen to his bedroom, taking each piece of what you owned with you. Shoving it all in a bag that was clearly too small to fit it all but in your rage you managed to get it all in.

He panicked, “What - what are you doing..”

“Leaving.”

And he didn’t stop you.

-

-

You were single now, and happy.

He was single now, and not so happy.

God, how he missed you. He took you for granted, treated you wrong, and all he wanted was you back.

Even his own friends were telling him how much he fucked up.

And he knew it.

He especially knew it when he saw you, shyly walking around the silverstone pits with your best friends who were in love with the sport. He didn’t believe it at first, but you were here! Really here!

“Y/N!” He couldn’t control his own mouth, or legs as he ran over to you.

You turned around to see the messy brown hair and neon orange fireproofs. He was a sight for sore eyes. Still beautiful- probably more than before.

“Oh. hi Lan,” You smiled. Lan. He wasn’t completely in the dog house. “How’ve you been, heard you got with Joao’s girlfriend,” You said.

“No!” He exclaimed, “I - I meant no,”, It got quiet after that, he needed to say something- anything! “Because i love you still-”

As he stumbled over his words, the world around them seemed to fade into the background, consumed by the intensity of your encounter. The Silverstone pits buzzed with activity, mechanics tinkering with race cars, the distant roar of engines serving as a constant backdrop to their conversation.

You stared blankly at him. Your friends were long gone now. And you couldn’t think of anywords than “Okay.” OKAY? It was not okay! “I- Well- same but we can’t…”

“We can,” He interrupted, “Ok, we can, I’ll prove it. Make it up to you in any way you want, please baby”And as he pleaded for another chance, the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. It was a moment suspended in time, where the lines between love and longing blurred against the backdrop of the racing world, leaving them both teetering on the edge of uncertainty.

“Take me on a date and we’ll see,”

“Yes! Definitely!” He said, about to run off with you when he remembered the race- “Just after this race, I promise!”

“I’ll be waiting,” You bite back a smile at him as he giddily runs off towards his car

el fin 

BLEHHH posting quickly before i leave the house