#firm supporter of them just being like that

[eu-nicola]

the finish line part 3

part 1 part 2

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

warnings: nothing

word counter: 6122

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

tags: @ferakillia @bunnies-p1tst0p @maluzets55

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned, clearly upset.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without much hesitation, you wrote him a short reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded, listening to each word patiently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed and closed your eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn't long before he responded.

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

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

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

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

His reply came almost instantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[trixy812]

005 ⋆｡‧˚ʚ You have all my support ɞ˚‧｡⋆ pt 1

{Nanami Kento x reader}

ִֶָ࣪☾. Content: nanami x reader, angst, fluff, reader knows how to use RTC

ִֶָ࣪☾. Summary: And this is how your love story with Kento Nanami evolved and developed.

ִֶָ࣪☾. AN: This is going to have several parts and is just mostly fluff, I still don't know if this is going to have a happy ending or not. Please, let me know what you think <3 xoxo

Kento Nanami and Yu Haibara received an unusual mission: investigate a hospital where someone was consistently using the Reversed Cursed Technique. Curses in the area had also decreased, yet there was no record of any sorcerer on a mission there. Intrigued by this phenomenon, the higher-ups decided to send two first-grade students. Nanami and Haibara's task was to investigate and determine if there was any risk to the safety of the area or to non-sorcerers in the hospital.

Once at the hospital, the traces of energy led them to the palliative care ward. There, they found you in the middle of using the Reversed Cursed Technique, healing the wounds of an elderly patient. They decided to observe you from hiding for several hours, soon noticing something curious: you used the technique only to heal superficial wounds of terminally ill elderly patients. Seeing these patients, free of pain, calmly accepting their passing, Nanami and Haibara realized this peace could be the reason behind the decline in curses in the area. After analyzing the situation, they discussed their impressions and agreed you posed no threat. They were about to leave and report their findings when, unexpectedly, Nanami felt a strange urge to talk to you.

Haibara, with his cheerful and lively personality, anticipated Nanami's thought and quickly said, "Let’s go talk to them! They seem like a good person."

Nanami, more reserved, tried to warn him, “They’re a stranger, Yu. This could be a waste of time.” There was no hesitation in his voice, as if he hadn’t just felt the need to speak with you a moment before.

But Haibara wouldn’t be stopped. “Oh, come on, Kento. Let’s go. I’ve got a feeling it’ll be worth it.” And without waiting for an answer, he approached you.

With a mix of curiosity and caution, Nanami followed him. Haibara spoke first: “Hello! Sorry to introduce ourselves like this… I’m Yu Haibara, and this is my companion, Kento Nanami.”

You looked up, surprised but calm. “My name is y/n. I had a feeling someone would come looking for me.” Your tone was serene, with no hint of surprise.

Nanami, ever direct, asked, “Do you know what you’re doing? Cursed energy isn’t something just anyone should play with. Do you even know what you’re healing in these patients?”

You nodded. “I know. I’m familiar with sorcerers and curses, and I knew that eventually, I’d be discovered. But I’m not interested in a school of sorcery or fighting curses.” Pausing, you added, “I’ve always dreamed of being a nurse. My family, also sorcerers from another country, decided to support me on that path. To me, this is just a way to help. I’m here as a volunteer, and no one in the hospital suspects what I’m doing.”

Nanami kept his serious expression, while Haibara listened intently. “And why only heal the elderly?” Nanami insisted, his voice firm.

“Because everyone else dismisses them,” you replied without hesitation. “I always hear things like ‘They’ve lived their lives; it’s time for them to go,’ and I think that’s unfair. I feel they deserve a dignified end, in peace and without pain.” Your voice was warm and determined, and even Haibara, usually carefree, was moved, and though he didn’t admit it, you also left an impression on Nanami.

“That’s admirable!” Haibara exclaimed, smiling.

Energized, Haibara suggested you all go out to eat, and while Nanami showed some reluctance, saying, “I’m not sure that’s entirely appropriate…,” he eventually agreed. During the meal, you and Haibara hit it off immediately, joking and laughing, even starting a playful competition over who could eat the most sushi, while Nanami watched in stoic calm. Despite his seriousness, Nanami also felt comfortable in that strange and lively company, observing how Haibara’s spark seemed to reflect in you and a bit of your serenity in Haibara. In the end, Haibara won the competition, the three of you exchanged phone numbers. Before parting, you invited them to visit you at the hospital to go out again, mentioning that you’d be there volunteering until the end of the year.

���Definitely!” Haibara exclaimed, raising a hand in promise, and although Nanami only nodded, he felt strangely comforted by the invitation. None of you knew that this would be the first and last meeting among the three.

A few days later, on a mission that turned out to be much more dangerous than expected, Haibara died in combat against a powerful curse, leaving Nanami in deep sorrow.

Two days after the tragedy, Nanami, feeling alone, remembered your words and decided to seek you out at the hospital. He decided to look for Haibara in your essence. He waited quietly outside until you finished your shift.

When you saw him, you smiled immediately, waving and quickly approaching him. “Nanami! What a surprise to see you. I’m so glad you came.” But your expression changed upon noticing the seriousness on his face. “Where’s Haibara?” you asked, looking behind him.

Nanami didn’t answer, and in his silence, you understood. Without a word, you embraced him, holding him tightly while he stood still.

“I can’t imagine your pain, nor do I understand what you’re going through,” you whispered gently, “but you have all my support.”

Nanami closed his eyes, allowing himself for a moment to find solace in that embrace. He knew you weren’t part of the jujutsu world, yet you somehow seemed to deeply understand the burden and sacrifice that being a sorcerer entailed.

[libby-for-life]

Can we please have a part 2 of The Sacrifice?! PLEASE!

Of course! Part 2. Lucifer x Adam x Lilith

Read part 1 here.

Adam blinked against the bright red light filtering through an open window, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He was engulfed in an oppressive heat that clung to his skin like a heavy blanket, making him acutely aware of his disorientation. As he was lifted and carried into an expansive room, he felt an odd mix of fear and curiosity.

The space felt almost cavernous, with high ceilings adorned with intricate designs that caught the light. Elegant furniture, whose shapes seemed both familiar and foreign, filled the room—a king-sized bed draped in soft fabrics dominated one corner, while delicate curtains hung in billowing swaths around the windows.

In the arms of the woman who carried him, he noticed her striking appearance. She had long, flowing blonde hair that cascaded down her back, contrasting sharply with her pale, almost ethereal skin. Two magnificent curling horns, reminiscent of an otherworldly creature, adorned her head, giving her an imposing yet graceful presence. Adam's mind raced as he tried to piece together who she was and what had brought him to this strange place.

As they strolled ahead, a man walked alongside them, his stature notably smaller but his presence equally captivating. His hair, styled in a striking blonde, caught the ambient light, enhancing the vibrant hues that surrounded them. Piercing red eyes glimmered with mischief, while his alabaster skin radiated a porcelain-like brilliance, almost ethereal in the fading crimson glow.

He turned his head to Adam, flashing a confident grin that revealed sharp, glistening teeth, hinting at a playful yet predatory demeanor. The man was dressed in a striking red button-up shirt, intricately tailored, with the top few buttons undone, allowing a glimpse of his smooth chest beneath. His ensemble was completed with tailored black slacks that hugged his frame snugly and polished black shoes that executed a soft thud against the floor. On one hand, he carried a cane, not merely a support but an accessory that added an air of sophistication and intrigue to his appearance, making him a captivating figure in the bedroom.

As he was gently lowered onto the plush comfort of the bed, Adam's senses were overwhelmed by the softness of the fabric beneath him. The room itself felt almost dreamlike, filled with an ethereal light that seemed to dance from the window. Just then, he heard the smooth, melodic voice of a man say, "My, isn't he adorable?"

Turning his gaze, Adam studied the man and woman standing a few feet away, their expressions wide with amusement. A teasing smirk danced across their lips, and Adam's heart raced as he realized that these were no ordinary people. With their luminous presence and otherworldly aura, it soon dawned on him – they were the divine beings his people worshiped. The Morningstar, resplendent with an aura of power and grace, and The Lily, whose beauty radiated an enchanting warmth and danger.

Heat flushed through Adam's cheeks in embarrassment as the truth settled in. Without thinking, he instinctively slipped from the bed, dropping to his knees in a deep bow, his forehead nearly touching the floor. The laughter of the two deities filled the air, predatory and musical, echoing around the room. “You're right,” said The Lily with a twinkle in her eye, “he is adorable!” The sentiment wrapped around Adam like a comforting blanket, mixing awe with a sense of belonging in the presence of such revered figures.

Something sinuous and powerful coiled around Adam's waist, lifting him effortlessly off the ground until he found himself suspended in mid-air, face-to-face with his deities. A rush of air escaped his lungs—a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding—when a clawed hand, warm and firm, grasped his chin and tilted his head to the side for a closer inspection. It was then that he noticed the peculiar, scaled tail that had ensnared him, its grip both secure and strangely gentle. The male god, with a playful glint in his eye, studied Adam’s features, a sly smirk dancing on his lips. “He’s got such a cute face,” he remarked, the words lingering in the air, both a compliment and something Adam couldn't name. "I can't wait to use him."

"He'll have to be trained first, dear. You saw what those...filth were doing to him." The goddess said as she also began to inspect Adam. "For all we know, he's feral." Adam didn't quite understand what these two were talking about but he did know that he had been taught to listen to anyone of authority.

"At least he smells good," The Morningstar said with a smirk, leaning in to breathe in the scent clinging to Adam’s neck. The warmth of the god's breath sent a gentle shiver down Adam's spine, an unexpected yet oddly comforting sensation. He was accustomed to people crossing boundaries at this point, their boldness often leaving him unsettled when he was younger but eventually grew out of it, but this moment felt different. Instead of recoiling, he didn't struggle, allowing the god to draw closer, intrigued by the curious blend of confidence and familiarity in the air.

The rich aroma that enveloped him was likely a result of the luxurious oil he had chosen for his bath—an opulent blend of sandalwood and jasmine that lingered on his skin like a gentle embrace. As The Morningstar inhaled deeply, Adam could almost see the fleeting thoughts and emotions dancing behind his piercing red gaze, caught between mischief and a predatory glimmer. In that brief exchange, the world around them faded, and all that remained was the intoxicating connection sparked by the simplest of gestures.

"Then, if you would be so kind, allow me to scent him too," The Lily said, her voice laced with a curious allure. She leaned in closer, tilting Adam's head slightly to the side as she inhaled deeply at the nape of his neck. Adam caught off guard, let out a small sound—a mix of surprise and embarrassment—but remained otherwise still, his heart racing under her attention.

As The Lily took in his scent, her expression shifted to one of delight. "Ah, you were entirely right, my dear," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with appreciation. "He has an absolutely lovely fragrance of his own, though I must admit, the overpowering stench of that oil is blending in too much with his natural scent."

Natural scent? Adam found himself momentarily puzzled. Weren’t they supposed to be focusing on the expensive oil his people had bought for him to use? He could only listen in silence as the two continued their discussion, weighing the merits of trying to remove the oil to reveal what lay beneath.

"He needs a bath. And then some fitting garments. These rags aren’t worthy to stand between us," remarked the Morningstar, his fingers delicately tracing the cotton edges of Adam's robe. The air was thick with expectation, and the atmosphere felt charged with the unspoken power of the being before him.

Now, one might expect that a typical person would bristle at such a blatant insult regarding their attire. However, Adam was not raised in a typical environment. From a young age, he had internalized a profound belief that whatever was said to him held absolute truth, beaten into him by the cult that raised him though Adam saw them as family. If his garments were deemed unworthy by those he considered divine, he would feel compelled to make amends, no matter the cost.

Adam opened his mouth, ready to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He had never been instructed in the art of expression or self-advocacy. Silence enveloped him, a shroud woven from the threads of confusion and inadequacy. He stood there, an outsider in his own life, grappling with the weight of the god and goddess's judgment, as the echoes of his thoughts faded into the background. He wasn't fit to speak to them.

"Well, at least he's behaving," The Lily remarked, her voice soft as she gently cupped Adam's cheek in her delicate hand. The coolness of her touch contrasted sharply with the warmth radiating from his skin, stirring a longing within him that he struggled to suppress. It had been agonizingly long since someone had shown him such tenderness. "Should we fetch a servant to clean him up? It would be nice to have him look presentable for dinner," she continued, her eyes glimmering with a mixture of amusement and predatory glee.

"That's a splendid idea," The Morningstar chimed in, a smirk playing on his lips as he idly ran his fingers through Adam's unruly hair, gathering it in soft strands. His touch was both soothing and disarming, and Adam fought against the urge to lean into that caress as well. "We want him to be perfect for tonight," he added, his tone infused with a low but sincere intensity. The air hung thick with anticipation, each moment promising a transformation not just of Adam's appearance, but of his very place at the table.

"No time like the present. Let's clean you up." Adam was taken into a large bathroom where two...red-horned beasts were drawing a bath. Adam was placed down and when he was told to strip by his deities, he didn't hesitate. He was their sacrifice. They could do whatever they wanted. He was well aware that he was being eyed up and down as he was led into the bath.

"We must be off, but ensure he's properly dressed," the Morningstar instructed with an air of authority before striding away with The Lily. The two attendants exchanged wary glances as they turned their attention to Adam, who stood awaiting their care. They approached him with a sense of urgency and trepidation, understanding the gravity of their task.

As they began their work, they gently scrubbed Adam from head to toe with a fragrant soap that emitted a sweet, floral aroma, filling the air with the scent of blooming gardens. Their strokes were meticulous, a testament to their desire to treat him with care amidst the tension hanging in the air.

“Be careful with him,” one of the attendants warned their voice a low whisper tinged with anxiety. “If he returns with so much as a bruise, we’ll be the ones to suffer. You know what they’ll do to us.” The horned creatures trembled at the thought, their gazes drifting apprehensively toward Adam, who went along with what they wanted.

He was brought out of the tub and dried off of any excess water before they guided a naked sacrifice back into the bedroom. There on the bed was a silk garment that would be on his body and the servants had to help him into it. Adam was glad because he was sure that he might ruin such a fine piece of clothing. He didn't deserve something like this.

Adam stood before the mirror, captivated by the way the garment draped luxuriously over him, shimmering with every subtle movement like a cascading waterfall. The fabric hugged his silhouette just right, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he savored the delicate sensation of the material against his sun-kissed skin.

Behind him, two servants bustled about, their voices a blend of hushed urgency. One of them glanced at Adam's tousled hair and inquired, “Alright, what do we do with his hair? Should we cut it or style it?” The other servant shrugged, a look of mild indecision on his face, before responding, “Let’s keep it simple. Wouldn’t want to keep the King and Queen waiting.”

With that, Adam felt himself gently yet firmly guided into a plush chair, the coolness of the seat contrasting with the warmth of the garment. The servants positioned themselves around him, readying their tools and adjusting their aprons, clearly eager to transform his appearance quickly while ensuring everything was just right for the royal audience.

When the servants finally finished styling Adam's hair, a palpable tension filled the room. One of them, a male-horned beast with a hesitant look in his eyes, approached Adam, clutching an item that seemed completely out of place in the otherwise ordinary setting. "I know this is going to feel awkward," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I need you to wear this."

He revealed an exquisite collar crafted from supple leather, its sleek surface glinting under the soft light. The collar was adorned with a small, intricately engraved piece of gold metal that dangled delicately, catching the light with every subtle movement. Adam's heart thudded as recognition washed over him; he instantly understood the significance of the collar. It was not just an accessory—it was a symbol of servitude, a mark of possession. It was also commonly used on dogs.

The servants shared uneasy glances, their discomfort palpable, but Adam stood firm. Despite the weight of their gazes and the implications of the collar, he accepted it without hesitation. He reminded himself that if this was what his deities desired, who was he to question or resist their will? As he felt the cool leather against his skin, he couldn't help but feel how soft it was.

"Alright, the King and Queen are waiting."

[emblemxeno]

Some people have some weird concept of writing fixes

Someone suggested that making Corrin not related to the Hoshidan royals at all and swapping the family vs. family aspect in favor of a loyalty vs. morality concept would improve the story

Obvious problem: How is Corrin still the center of the conflict if Hoshido no longer has a reason to trust or care about them at all? Corrin's choice matters because they have a reason to care about each side, but also each side has reason to care about them

The correct solution to improving Fate's story should be to make Nohr slightly more heroic and Hoshido slightly less good, but keep both sides on a relatively even morality scale

What's funny is that the loyalty vs morality conflict is already prominent within the game lmaooo. Like for sure the family vs family dynamic is a thing, but Corrin in Birthright angsts the most about the lives of the family and loved ones he ruined, and Corrin in Conquest angsts the most about the innocent people being indiscriminately killed.

While I personally don't subscribe to the idea that Revelation is the only valid path (since Ryoma, Xander, and the other siblings need BR and CQ to complement their arcs), Corrin reaches his pinnacle when he rejects the war outright and stands firm on his pacificity. That writing choice can't reasonably exist without the crux of loyalty vs morality already in place.

And I agree, I don't quite understand not making Corrin related to the Hoshidan royals because, yeah it can theoretically remove a weird plot hangup, but it'd also just make Corrin's position in a possible Birthright and Revelation not make sense. At that point he'd just be a de facto political prisoner with not as much time spent with Hoshido as Azura, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have any authority in BR nor would it be reasonable that he'd be able to recruit anyone from Hoshido on Revelation, since the whole reason why he gets Hoshidan support is because Sakura vouches for him, and she does that because she heard great things about her kidnapped older brother. You'd have to jack up Corrin's charisma tenfold to justify it, but people already find it hard to believe that he's charismatic and think the game's writing coddles him as it is.

As you said, the flaws of Hoshido and the positives for Nohr just need to be more pronounced instead of regulated to subtexual fridge horror (e.g. Hoshido's rampant xenophobia and isolationism)

[noisethebug]

"Rinne has tried to show Kohaku a beetle before, thinking it would excite him" is my favorite sentence to come from enstars meta analysis so far

This post really has me thinking about fanon in general. Because the evidence presented isn't wrong! But where OP sees these fanworks as deviant, I personally see them as expansion. When I read a fic about Rinne having multiple addictions, I'm thinking less about the canon support for that and more about what happens to real-life people who are raised in cults and then thrown into the real world.

I like to think that Rinne has a poor sense of self. Being raised to be a monarch would leave a big gaping hole where a firm identity should be. So it makes sense that his behavior would be erratic; he wants to Feel Happy, he wants Validation, and he wants Attention From Niki. So his "personality" might be whatever gets him those things the quickest. But it's not like I have great canon support for that interpretation. There's nothing I can point to where Akira makes a character say it out loud. I'm just seeing patterns and then filling gaps with what I think makes sense/is compelling.

Again, I don't think OP is saying anything that's not true. And I close any fic instantly if I can sense that Rinne is just gonna be a shitty scapegoat because they needed someone to do a bad thing to start the drama. But idk. Chewing on this.

Guess who's back! And angry!

[snailthehuman]

“They could’ve avoided all this if they just fucked” well consider they’ve actually been fucking the whole time and they’re just like this.

[little-whats-her-name]

"I can't hear you over the sound of the eight billion glasses and plates clinking, and the very high possibility that I'm going to lose my job, and the fact that everyone at this charity dinner hates me but we have to act nice to each other, and the weird lighting in this room, and these fucking Spanx!" - Katherine Hastings, probably

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Hi hi~ how are you! Have you seen the Satoru is a cheater/player allegations (help idk why I’m saying it as if he’s a real person lol)

It’s soo sad how people just keep mischaracterize him like that 😔

yeahhhhh i will never be a player/cheater gojo truther i fear 😭😭😭 that’s my aspec king. my loyal aspec king who is a Nice Guy Actually

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[dnangelic]

daisuke being self-effacing while dark is lucifer coded and likewise exemplifies pride as his greatest sin (and virtue) 👍

[lakemichigans]

are we okay to talk about the v d a y vid now and how sad it is that the very platform they built their careers and lives on was the platform that essentially outed them in such a traumatic way. obviously the youtube glitch was just an accident but can you even believe the cosmic irony of it all

[batsinurbelfrey]

.

[p0ison-moon]

(this is petty and unreasonable of me but also it’s real feelings so whatever) gosh I just love the cycle of antisemitic thing happens ➡️ all my goy friends put one (1) thing on their Instagram story about and don’t mention it ever again or ask me if I’m okay ➡️ the post they shared is from some Zionist org that thinks Palestinians don’t have the right to organize and advocate for themselves and call out Israel etc etc or whatever ➡️ I get angry but don’t say anything because I’m always the angry anti-Zionist and also the angry Jew and I don’t want them to feel like they’re never going to be good enough for me ➡️ repeat

[tracle0]

So uh if you pirate books please just… don’t follow me ?

[slvttyplum]

satoru holds your thighs back and in place while suguru eats you out until his jaw is sore, your eyes watering and your toes curling from how good he was doing, your thighs wanting to give out, but you couldn't even put them down because of satoru holding them.

you were a leg closer—the worst kind, to be exact. where you would slam your thighs together whenever you got overstimulated, and that would give satoru and suguru a massive headache. to be fair, it didn't make them upset because who wouldn't want their heads squished by you? but it would be extra rough. he didn't mind; he loved having that sensation, but sometimes he just liked to have his tongue deep, or when he sucked on your clit, a position that called for extra support and for your legs to be spread.

so they would trick you at the worst moments, usually when it came to suguru because of how well his tongue worked when he was super into it, sliding his tongue all over your dripping core while you moaned and squirmed. you couldn't stay still to save your life, so he told satoru to get behind you and make sure you didn't squirm one bit. he had to focus on what he was doing, and he couldn't do that if you kept moving and squishing him in between your thighs.

right when your eyes would close and your legs would twitch, satoru would slide behind you and take a hold of your thighs, holding them back.

"satoruuuu." whining as you try to push suguru's head away, but he doesn't budge, trying to squirm in place, but satoru's grip is too strong for you. you came fast; you couldn't help it, especially with suguru, who liked the way you came on his tongue. five minutes wasn't enough to keep him satisfied, so he had satoru hold you so he could keep going.

whining even after the sheets are damp and your fluids, along with his saliva, are dripping from his chin. suguru looked you dead in the eye to tease you, letting you know with no words that he was going to keep going, regardless of whether you were crying or whining.

satoru loved being the leg holder more than he did actually eating you up. yes, he really loved eating you out and having your taste linger in your mouth, but it was something around making sure you stayed still and whispering things in your ear that got him off.

having you scratch and claw at his arms is what he loved while suguru had you squirting back and forth, drowning himself in between your thighs. even taking one hand off your thigh and sliding it up to your neck, giving it. a light squeeze before pushing your chin up and kissing you.

whenever they did this, it was just a huge blur. all you could remember was how good you felt in the moment and how suguru's tongue felt sliding over your slit and flicking back and forth on your clit, his spit coating your pussy and satoru's all over your tongue.

they made sure to make sure that you took everything they gave you to make sure the pleasure was surging through your body without any complications. satoru's grip would be so firm on your thighs. that it would leave a mark, looking in the mirror, smiling, and seeing them.

[pearlywritings]

Intimacy records

synopsis: what kinds of horny stuff they have in their phones and which is the favorite?

pairing and characters: Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sampo, Sunday (separately) x fem!reader

tw: SMUT, established relationship (marriage/dating), consensual recording of lovemaking, nudes, oral, lingerie, fingering, masturbation, public sex, breast play, shibari/blindfold, sex machine, creampie

word count: 4.3k+ words

Aventurine

Undoubtedly this man has a whole separate folder for intimate stuff. Of course, he demands you send him something on a daily basis - doesn’t matter if it’s a quick snap of your choice of lingerie in the morning, or recordings of touching yourself - but never enough to cum, it’s his job. Naturally he loves having reminders of you being at his mercy - thus there are also videos of you both (with primarily established consent). All that to say - he has quite the collection, so it’s really hard to pick a favorite, the most desire-arising one.

Maybe it’s a category actually - self-made media created out of bet. Who’ll cum first? Can you keep going without tearing up from pleasure for longer than 10 minutes? Is he patient enough not to touch your sexy self, while you masturbate in front of him? Who is going to be louder this time? These kinds.

”I hope you are ready to lose,” your lover smirks, making himself comfortable between your legs. Camera floats a little, as you chuckle behind it. With a momentary adjustment, the focus is on his face again and he winks, before turning to trail a little path of kisses across your thigh. The image jumps, when he sucks on the skin, and slightly trembles as you let out a sigh. Then it’s firm, as Aventurine wraps his arms around your thighs, his nose teasingly rubbing against your clit. Suddenly there is a lick, then your breath hitches…. And then he buries his mouth into your pussy. It doesn’t take much time for the image to begin shaking wildly, almost matching your debauched noises. There is squelching, there are award-winning male moans, muffled by your heat, soon there is a hand, your hand, reaching down and grabbing his hair. Phone strangely angles, hardly supported by just one hand, until it falls camera down onto the shits. After that, there are just delicious screams of yours, chanting the name of your lover and begging him to stop, while he doesn’t listen, taking his reward for yet another win.

Yeah, he proved you can’t keep the camera focused while he is eating you out in that one. It’s truly a pity, that more than a half of what was going on, didn’t get recorded in image. Maybe next time you'll do better - oh... That's actually not a bad idea at all… Looks like you are in for another bet.

Blade

His situation is… quite peculiar. First of all, he has so little care for his own phone outside using it to get info for the mission, to the point ANYONE from the Stellaron Hunters can just take it and do whatever with it (Silver Wolf and Kafka practice it a lot). Even your relationship doesn’t change it much, he messages you rarely and quite shortly, preferring to save the conversation for personal interaction. 

However recently, Kafka has been putting a plan into action - the first step of which was banning everyone from getting into his phone (herself excluded). Then she’d start sending her colleague an occasional picture of a set of lingerie she’s oh so sure would look wonderful on you. Blade never answers, but he doesn’t tell her off either, and by the snooping she knows that the pictures get bookmarked, the links for the shops she attaches are visited, and sums of money are being spent.

Oh, and by checking the chat… She knows you get them delivered. Does she text you to shower you with compliments? She does. At first it was a little embarrassing and you asked Blade if he could, maybe, pay better attention to his phone??? But soon, when your lover started showing the telltale signs of jealousy... It became pretty hot (plus praise from THE Kafka? Ego-boosting).

Blade doesn’t voice it, but more than seeing you all pretty for him, he loves seeing you ruined for him, and doesn’t complain when you ask him to take a picture with your phone of whatever part of you, focusing on the marks, or the torn crotch of your panties, or something alike… There are times when he would text you with a simple ‘send me pictures with torn stockings’ or ‘yesterday. open nipples bra. now’ , because he knows you have them, and you deliver, because you know he loves them. 

Has his favorites:

Depicts your thighs, bitten and opened wide, while the black panties are pushed aside to let two thick, scar-covered fingers dive into your pussy.

Your body after one of the sessions - bra roughly pushed down under the mark-covered breasts, panties missing, one stocking still on the leg, but with multiple holes in it, and the other tying your wrists above your head.

A small video you insisted on recording of the man tugging onto your garter belt whenever he wanted your hips to push towards his thrust, threatening for the thin elastic material to snap.

Even though he doesn’t save them, he knows how to get an easy access to them, so for Blade it works quite fine (and Kafka’s plan does too, making Blade look less intimacy-repulsed and spicing up your relationship).

Boothill

A cyborg, whose only human part of the body is the head, and sex life… How can this be possible? 

Oh, trust me, it can. Sure, his bodily reaction differs, but he still is excited to get nudes from you, finally able to express through the text what he really thinks with that foul mouth of his. A voice recording of you dirty talking to him? Awesome. A video? You can bet his engine is overheating and vents are whirring.

But in all honesty, the ones he truly loves and returns to are the recordings of him doing stuff to you. Call him self-conscious, it’s not like he can bite back with a swear, but the reminder that he can bring you pleasure even now is sometimes necessary.

The lights are intimately dimmed, not enough to bring the room into utter darkness. Two bodies are lying almost intertwined with your back turned to the camera. The metal arm of your lover has sneaked under your side and around your waist, fingers digging into the plush glob of your ass, tugging on it, to further the spread which is created by your leg thrown over his hip. Your pussy is perfectly presented to the camera, puffy and slick, with two gray plated fingers massaging it. Digits slide up and down your labia, occasionally staying on the clit, to rub tight circles on it and elicit some sweet moans out of you, only to return to their previous ministrations, dipping the tips juuust a little bit into the quivering hole. Your back arches and body deliciously shivers from the contrast of his cool and your heat, and you softly whine, when he releases your ass cheek to give it a spank and then grab it again, unwilling to let the sight of your cunt escape his phone’s camera. You whimper something, muffled by his chest, but he remembers by heart what you were begging for. ‘Please, put your mouth on me.’ He will, in a minute, but right now he pushes both fingers to the second knuckle in, making you jolt in his hold, but not letting you go anywhere.

It’s captivating, how his inhuman digits disappear and reappear with every thrust he makes; slick-covered they look shiny, as if you polished them, and the cyborg shudders, imagining your tongue running around them. That’s one dangerous video, he may just give in to his want to see you and abandon the mission he was assigned to…

Dr Veritas Ratio

Unsurprisingly, Veritas’ phone doesn’t contain that much stuff in general. Maybe some downloaded articles, notes to put down later, if he doesn’t have a piece of paper at the moment, and very few pictures, mainly of his writings on the chalkboard. Don’t be discouraged though, of course he has pictures of you. Some selfies you took after “borrowing” his phone and ones he doesn’t have a heart to delete (but he will scoff at you, should you decide to tease him), and some very well-thought images he took on his own accord - he needs reference for when he decides to let his mind rest from research and focus on sculpting.

And one might think that such a reserved and cold man will not entertain storing anything explicit on his phone. Well, he indeed does not have any pictures and videos saved - if he wants, he can either find what you sent him via your chat or just demand your assistance. However… There is something that strangely became his way of concentrating when doing his research…

”Oh! Mh- *thrust* Veri- ohmygod! *thrust*”

“Wait- Aaah! I can’t! I’m sore! MmmmMMM!” “No, you can and you will. Now hold still, I can’t eat you out if you keep thrashing around.” “Oh Aeons!”

*Slick sounds of you going down on him, gurgling and choking on his girth, occasionally gasping to catch your breath, only to have his cock buried in your throat again*

“Baaaby… I miss you so much… Can I come to your office? I promise to be good… Just need to cockwarm you - nothing else I swear. Let me keep you company pleeease. Imagine how nicely it'd be to have your cock buried in my pussy, while you are working… Need to help you with stress-relief, it's gonna feel so-so good.”

“Oh fuck, o-oh, love, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I’mcumMIN-” “Ngh, s-so…tight…” “Aaaaaaah~!”

“Veritas Ratio, if you come home in ten minutes, I will give you a nice massage and then ride you damn cock, till the only thing you can think about is not your work, but me. If you fail to do so though… I wonder if my threat to use some toys instead will work. Just know that your wife is very mad. And horny.”

It doesn't matter if the audio was taken while you were intimate or it was something you sent to him and he saved - he thoroughly enjoys everything your voice has to offer to him. And if instead of concentrated it accidentally makes him horny - he'll just play the next one, while undoing his pants.

Gallagher

Oh, this man is a menace. And a huge ass-lover. His gallery is full of pictures of your booty: clothed, just panty-clad or bare. There are shots with your body clearly being bent, ass up and back covered in his load. Videos of him fucking you from behind, with cock sliding in and out of your pussy? Obviously. Recordings of it jiggling as he spanks you? Would’ve been strange if they weren’t there.

However, in that vast collection of his, there is a video that’s most peculiar - one might say scandalous. It was one of those nights when he took over the bar for Siobhan and you came over at some point, all enticing and so sexy in that little dress of yours… He could not resist taking you right there once the establishment was closed. And it got on security camera...

Moans so loud, that they are reaching the recording device, are still of the delicious kind. Your back is arched over the bar counter, arms lifted and wrists tied by none other but Gallagher’s wine-red tie, and held by his own hand for good measure. The front of your dress is pushed down, revealing your pretty breasts, jiggling with every thrust of the man’s hips, and the hem of it has ridden up, baring your stomach and mark-covered thighs. Your lover is barely unclothed, pants and boxers pushed down just enough to free his cock and the tie, obviously, missing. The hand that is not holding your wrists, is grabbing onto your leg, under the knee, lifting it for a better angle, and showing off a lewd detail - your black lace panties hanging on your shin. You are looking positively debauched, and he is no better, groaning and cursing, with an occasional exceptionally rough trust that makes you scream and whine. There are teeth-gritted ‘slut’s and huskily chuckled ‘bad girl’s with your pleading ‘sir’s and ‘Gal’s, all of that deliciously seasoned with the clapping of the wet skin colliding. But nothing beats the moment of you cumming, depicted by no less than three cameras from all of the hottest angles…

Of course this footage was ‘confiscated’ by him with some dumb excuse for Siobhan (he doubts she believed it, given the knowing look and shit-eating grin she gave him), with all traces destroyed except just one copy thoroughly hidden on his phone. He thinks you two should repeat that - this time, however, he’d love to bend you over the counter with your back facing him…

Gepard Landau

Gepard would die if someone took his phone and got into his gallery. Poor man has to change the password weekly to throw Serval off his case (she was only teasing, but that made her brother paranoid). There is a reason for such behavior - while he is way too sweet and gentlemanly to suggest making sexy pics or, Supreme Guardian forgive, videos, he can't help but to be too whipped for you. 

This man dutifully saves every single photo and video of yours - nudes included.

You don't send them very often - you don't want to kill your darling husband. But sometimes the yearning is unbearable, and there is a suffocating need to show Gepard what he is missing while away on duty (you always leave a warning message though, so he could check it while alone and undisturbed).

No matter how red and embarrassed he gets, the man timidly admits that he enjoys this kind of attention. He is not beyond the earthly pleasures - he too has a favorite theme, that recently became more present in what you send him…

At first you looked so absolutely cute and domestic with his huge sweater on, the one you personally knitted for him - the beginning of the video didn’t look all that different from the photos you sent him just minutes before. But soon it becomes clear why you asked if he was alone, because once you position the phone and climb onto the bed, your full attire gets revealed. White stockings are replacing your usual home pants, and as your fingers grab the hem of the sweater and tug it up, the white panties from a matching set start peaking. The view is both pure and alluring, with the way your legs are spreading wide, and the sweater being pushed further up, baring your braless breasts. The hem gets secured between your teeth and both hands teasingly run down your sides, index fingers drawing circles around the tits, before squeezing them; as one remains right there, the other slowly slides down your stomach, disappearing under the hem of those flimsy panties. Imagination paints wild images - every next is hotter than the previous, and only your muffled moans of his name and rapidly rising chest are indicators of how good you feel with fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And that damn sweater… You are not taking it off.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards has one guilty pleasure - you, wearing his clothes. Domesticity, longing, finding comfort in something of his touches his heart and heightens his love and desire for you, almost making him consider taking a regular day off.

Jing Yuan

This man literally worships the ground his wife is walking on, so OF COURSE he wants to have as many pictures and videos of you as possible. It gets so boring and lonely when he is at work, after all. But don’t be fooled by his sweet and innocent smile, there are not only cute shots of you both or just you, he has sexy stuff too.

Man is obsessed with your chest. It’s his favorite pillow (thus so many pictures of him snuggling his face right between your breasts), his best stress-relief (photos and short videos of his big veiny hands cupping and squeezing your girls, with an occasional swipe of the thumbs over the erect nipples), his favorite place to leave marks on (no one can see them under the clothes, but just one tug of his finger on your collar and he is met with a delicious sight. Plus the photos he asks to send occasionally).

Loves, loves, loves, purchasing lingerie for you and when you demonstrate your bra-clad tits. He immediately wants them in his face, but there is the phone screen keeping him away.

But oh does he love recordings of playing with them.

Your body is steadily bouncing on your husband’s lap, creating a beautiful melody of skin slapping against skin. There is an occasional peak of his thick cock, covered in your juices, that immediately disappears again, undoubtedly swallowed by your pussy. One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, supporting you, while the other hand is palming at your left breast. The right one has fallen victim to his eager mouth, lips wrapped around the nipple, sucking on it tenderly, tongue toying with the overstimulated nub. His eyes are half-lidded when he looks up at you, moaning around your breast, when you tug on his luscious locks, trying to push him away, to give you a small rest. He is drawing back indeed, planting a soft kiss to the valley between the jiggling globes, and you sigh in relief, deceived by his affectionate action. Only for you back to arch and mouth hang in a loud moan, when Jing Yuan brings your other breast to his awaiting tongue, dropping both hands to your hips to aid you in speeding up your riding, sensing your nearing orgasm.

Maybe next time you should try recording him making you cum by playing with your chest only… Ah, just the thought makes his cock swell.

Loucha

As much as Loucha enjoys your company and more often than not allows you to accompany him in his journeys, there are times when he can’t take you with him. Which means he leaves for weeks, or sometimes a couple of months, going through the days without a single touch from you. Before getting into a relationship with you, he could survive without intimacy just fine, but now, since he knows the taste of affection and being spoiled by you, it’s getting hard.

That’s when recordings on his phone come in handy, especially when there is no opportunity of a video call to indulge. And there is one he most frequently returns to…

Your chest is rising and falling, pretty breasts with perky nipples brought together by a wrap of a rope. Red and purple marks bloom on your skin akin flowers, some fresh, some from days before. Sweat shines on your hot skin, indicating just for how long the blonde has been torturing you with pleasure and denial. There is a small shake of the video, as your lover is establishing his phone, having just started the recording, and softly making you aware of how good you look - you wouldn’t know with that blindfold covering your eyes. Once the angle is perfect - capturing your arms, tied above the head, the arch of your back and thighs pushed together for stimulation, the man is joining you on the bed. It is cock-hardening, how you lift your head to find his lips, when you sense him leaning down, needily allowing him to indulge in a kiss before the game of orgasm denial continues. His hand meanwhile is creeping down your body, starting with caressing your cheek, fingers sliding down your neck, over the swell of your breast, thumb pushing against the nipple, eliciting a moan out of you right into his mouth, and then palm splaying on your stomach, traveling even lower, before it disappears between your thighs.

Loucha is a man of foreplay. There is nothing more satisfying to him, than indulging into your body before sinking his cock into your warmth. He loves making you squirm, completely at his mercy, drawing you right to the edge, and then denying you the sweet release, just to make you yearn, just to stretch the process out.

Sampo Koski

Sampo is nasty and that is not a secret. I am sure, if you were up for it, he’d suggest filming porn just for the giggles (and extra cash, come on, you both are fucking hot). There are teasing nudes and intimate videos, and it’s not a rare occasion of either of you texting the other with some found porn with a caption ‘let’s try it?’ and you do, frequently recording the process to compare later, and claiming that your performance is better.

However, sometimes it tends to not go according to the script (not like you usually have one). Sampo is chaotic and it’s not hard to lose focus with a lover like him, and these exact moments are Koski’s favorite. Despite being a Masked Fool, during these times he himself looks so sincere, it’s as unnerving, as it is exciting. Rewatching such videos and seeing how you mirror the look in his eyes, giggle with him, even crack a joke, all without ruining the mood - makes him believe he’s found his soulmate (and if you did film porn with him, he’d never share this level of intimacy with your viewers, it solely belongs to you two).

You are giggling, shaking your head with a wide smile, all the while lying on your stomach between his toned mark-covered thighs and leisurely fisting his hard, leaking cock with an angrily red tip. 

‘Sampo, please, be a little serious, we are trying to be sexy here.’

‘We are sexy! What’s not hot in shaping my and your pubic hairs into the lips?? They could kiss, when we fuck!’

‘You are unbelievable,’ you snort, trying to save the last bits of your composure, and leaning forward to mouth at his tight balls. This makes your lover pornographically (how ironic) moan, throwing his head back.

‘Mmm, yes, right there~ Oooh… If am soooo unbelievable, it must mean I am dreamy? How about I bring you to a Penacony, to a Dreamscape? I bet in your dream I’d be as good in bed as I am in reality.’

Your resolve snaps and you burst out laughing, letting go of his sack and pressing your face to his thigh, shaking, dropping the hand from around his cock. Sampo whines.

‘Come ooooon, I was so close!’

‘Shu-ah-ha-t-ah-uh-p,’ you manage through your laughter. The man pouts, but the gaze of mint green is summer-warm as he is looking down at your trembling form. Your voice is pretty, your cackles are pretty, and oh damn he is laughing too.

And these are just the first few minutes of the last video, the thing has a duration of half an hour, so, obviously, you didn’t stop there. That’s what Sampo Koski loves - no matter how cringe you become, it’s never a reason to stop the whole process. If anything it’s something to spark an even longer and intimacy-filled one.

Sunday

Keeping personal stuff on his phone is quite dangerous, given Sunday’s position. That’s why he owns two phones - his work one, and one to mainly contact you, his sister, and a small circle of the most trusted people. He is extremely good at handling the owning of two separate devices, never mistaking one for another, that people are often convinced he has only one.

But it’s his personal cellphone that interests us. Oh, does he have a whole collection of photos and videos of you, one folder in particular hidden just for good measure. Sunday is a collected and regal man, yet it doesn’t mean he has a hard time enjoying your teasing. Quite contrary, sometimes he welcomes it, loving the photos you send him from an outing, shopping for clothes, or better yet, lingerie, sending him multiple shots of different sets and asking him which he loves most, and which he’d like to see on you tonight. 

There are videos too, especially when he’s been extremely busy, and you are oh so needy, sending him short recordings of touching yourself, sighing out his name, begging him to come and help you. However, there is one he particularly likes…

Big silicone cock is being pushed in and out by the machine he purchased for you to quell your need when your husband can’t be there for you. You are on your stomach, with hips slightly raised and pushed backwards, chasing the toy, and he can see the perfect outline of your pussy, outer lips swollen and puffy, covered in a sticky substance, opening and constricting in attempts to accommodate the girth. Your moans are sweet, so-so sweet, hitting a high pitch, when the dildo falls out and a thick glob of cum substitute escapes your pussy. And then another, and another, messing your thighs even more, ruining the towel underneath you. Yet you don’t stop, reaching behind, and pushing the tip back into your tight warmth, making the toy pick its pace again. It’s squelching, it’s so dirty, but it’s so hard to look away. You give yourself creampie, after creampie, sometimes stopping to collect the substance and push it inside with your digits, fingering, moaning and whining for your husband, wishing it’s his cum sploshing between your walls, breeding you.

Yes, it’s his favorite, almost 4-minute video. Ever the neat freak, he can’t deny you look heavenly when ruined, on an equally ruined bed, begging for his attention and semen. You have to forget about the machine for some time, however, because since then Sunday has been truly devoted to breeding you.