#i can't take full credit though

[primarinite]

So are Finnian's parents trans or are you just ignoring canon (reasonable)? Because pokemon eggs normally hatch as the mother's species.

sorry this is late, i didn't see it until now. yeah i'm ignoring canon. i figured that sticking with canon mechanics would make it really boring since the species i could use would be very limited

[the-original-skipps]

|| Dinner? A Bath? Or Me? || Honkai Star Rail Reactions ||

the thing I did for windbreaker imma do it for hsr too mehehehe just experimenting if this is well received I’ll do more

requests are open btw check my blog!

: aventurine. dr.ratio. sunday. dan heng. phainon. mydei.

cw: hints of sexual content. suggestiveness. established relationship. gn!reader. possible oocness (first time writing for some of these characters). art used does not belong to me but credited to it's rightful owner.

"Welcome home! Would you like dinner? A bath? Or perhaps me...?"

❥ Aventurine stills for a moment before his signature smile graces his face. You can already feel his mischievousness radiating off of him in waves as he steps closer to you, to stand directly in front of you. He acts as if he's in deep contemplation at your words. "Dinner does sound nice, I'm absolutely famished! Though, a nice hot bath does sound equally as enticing." He says with a playful mirth, trying to gauge your reaction. He's quick to notice the slight down pull of your lips - as expected of you, his smile grows wider. "Ah, the third option?" He asks like an afterthought but you know it's intentional. His face inching closer to yours while his gloved hand teasingly trails up your arm. His eyes lock you into a hypnotic trance that you can't possibly look away from. 

"Hmm and what might you be able to offer me...?"

❥ Dr. Ratio's face is serious as he digests your question. "Dinner followed by a bath would sound like the most logical option." He tells you as if he's stating a basic fact which causes you to deflate. "However..." You perk up at his words. "Exercising before eating has been known to lead to improved insulin responses and a higher fat burning rate." He speaks to you as he walks past you towards the hallway of your shared home. You feel your face grow how at his implication and use of the word 'exercising'. Then he suddenly stops to look back at you, his reddish eyes locking onto you. "Why don't we do a little exercising before dinner?" The atmosphere in the room shifting with the implication of his words. His face remains serious as he motions you to follow him.

"I simply chose the option with the most merits, that would be beneficial for the both of us."

❥ Sunday blanks out as he tries to process your words and the possible meaning behind them. As he eliminates all possible answers and lands on the one you’re most likely insinuating. His face starts to flush - his wings twitching from the urge to hide his face. "By ‘me’, are you possibly implying...?" Sunday manages to stutter out as he shyly looks towards you - awaiting your confirmation. You can't help but laugh softly at his question before nodding. Sunday matches your nod with his own letting the words sink in. The halovian hesitantly steps closer to you, taking your hands in his. "Then, may I h-have you...?" He asks you a slight nervousness laced within his voice as he brings your hands for his lips brush against your knuckles. A smile blossoms on his face as you accept. 

"T-Thank you, I promise to take good care of you..."

❥ Dan Heng freezes as you ask him this question. Keeping his face as neutral as possible. Your words immediately reminding him of a certain grey haired friend. He wonders if it was their idea to make you pose this kind of question to him. His eyes nervously shift around the room to make sure they’re really not hiding, watching his reaction. Once Dan Heng confirms the coast is clear, he clears his throat awkwardly looking away from you in embarrassment. The full weight of your words and intentions hitting him at once. “Sorry, I-I must have heard you wrong. Did you say ‘me’..?” You eagerly confirm, a smile beaming on your face. He pauses as he considers his next words, trying to come up with possible answers to your question. Your prolonged silence as you await his answer makes his cheeks grow redder by the second.

“I s-suppose one of those options does sound appealing to me…”

❥ Phainon couldn't contain the excited smile that breaks out on his face at your words. He immediately walks up to you, but before you could react to his sudden closeness. His hands hook underneath your thighs, lifting you to his press against his chest. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Feeling pleased, Phainon chuckles at your reaction. “Why, my dear. I believe the answer should be obvious.” He answers you with a bright smile as he walks over to the dining table, then carefully placing you upon it. He then places his hands on your cheeks, cradling your face as if you're his most prized possession. Your body tensing as the pad of his thumb brushes against your button lip - his previous smile turning into a smirk. 

“You don’t even need to ask, the answer will always be you.”

❥ Mydei smirks, a deep resounding chuckle rumbling from his chest. “How bold of you to ask me such a thing.” He proclaims as he slowly walks towards you like a lion stalking his prey. His crimson eyes rooting you to the spot, daring you to even try to move away from him. “I don’t think dinner can satisfy the hunger I have right now.” He almost growls to you, as if he's trying his best to hold himself back from pouncing on you right now. As you momentarily look away from him in embarrassment, he uses his fingers to tilt your chin up. "Eyes on me." He orders, his eyes swirling with want while his other hand holds your waist to pull you until you're pressed against him. You feel your breath stolen away with how quickly his lips descend upon yours.

“I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

[rafeysbunny]

Ok rafe doing coke with the reader and then having a fuck fest 😌

a/n. this has been sitting on my asks for a while now, i really hope you get to see it anon! thanks for the request!

you are giggling softly as rafe's finger gently rubs a tiny bit of coke onto your pink gums for the second time tonight, the effects of the drug already kicking in —even though he was careful enough not to give you too much.

is it bad that you love getting high with him?

you can't help but suck his digit in a playful manner before he finally pulls his hand away, a thin thread of saliva stretching in between his finger and your lips as he takes it out of your mouth.

"now stay still for a sec, baby," he mutters, pouring a bit of the white powder for himself over your sternum.

your shirt is laying somewhere on the floor of his living room, boobs on full display while he does a line on your chest using his credit card —he has been insisting on doing this all night, and it's not like you can deny him anything.

every little brush of his fingers lights your skin on fire, more than it usually does, and you know that's the cocaine doing its thing. your little nipples are hard, panties already wet as you watch him lean forward to snort the cocaine from between your tits, his tongue sliding all the way up your flesh where the coke was just laying when he's done so none of it goes to waste.

you gasp in response to his actions while you reach out to tangle your fingers in his soft, blonde hair. you give it a slight tug, knowing how much he loves it when you do that, and you're rewarded with a little grunt of his own.

he leaves a trail of wet kisses all over your chest, collarbone and neck as he makes his way up your body, aiming for your lips. he kisses you like he's starving as his large hands force your thighs open so he can slot himself in between them. you're both panting when he breaks the contact.

"how you doin', baby?" he asks breathlessly, lips still brushing against yours while he talks, "feeling good ?"

you nod in response. "so horny, rafey," you pant out, your hips unconsciously bucking up to grind your pussy against his cock over your clothes, desperate to feel him.

"suck a needy, little slut, huh?" he chuckles darkly, wrapping a hand around your slender neck.

he's just as turned on as you are, his hard dick throbbing insistently inside his pants while he stares at your semi-naked body squirming beneath him on the couch. your breath hitches slightly at his rough grip and you can feel your cheeks blushing when he grinds back, the friction making you shudder.

"dirty girl... so fuckin' desperate for cock," he murmurs hoarsely.

his calloused thumb gently presses against your pulse point —feeling your fast heartbeat there, while his free hand reaches out to grasp the waistband of your shorts and yank them down your smooth thighs, exposing your black lace underwear. when he slips that same hand inside your panties, he finds you soaking wet for him.

"drenched already ? haven't even touched you properly yet... what a pathetic whore," he taunts.

he smirks against your flushed cheek as he pushes two of his thick fingers inside your tight cunt, and your pussy flutters around them. the dirty talk, added to the degrading words sent your way, has you turning to putty in his arms.

"gonna fuck this slutty cunt the way it deserves, you hear me?" he says, curling his digits inside you to hit your g-spot. when you moan and nod eagerly in response, he adds, "yeah? want me to ruin this fuckin' perfect pussy? words, baby."

you shiver at the demanding tone he uses with you, his raspy voice filling your ears and striking just the right chord in your brain to make your pussy drool.

"yes, need you to fuck my pussy so bad," you answer between pretty whimpers.

"you're gonna get it, a'right."

he's quick to get rid of your remaining clothes and then he undresses as well. once naked, he grips your hips roughly to turn you around, bending you over the couch. as he positions himself behind you, his hands are restraining you, one of them forcing your head onto the cushions so your back is arched while the other is pinning your hands at the bottom of your spine.

when he finally thrusts into your sloppy cunt, you're seeing starts behind your closed eyelids as you let out the loudest moans he's ever heard from you, which only motivates him to fuck you harder, hips slamming roughly against your plush butt and pussy squelching lewdly around his cock. he'd make you cum again and again, fingers bullying your swollen clit until you're begging him to stop, pretty cheeks wet with tears. only then, he allows himself to cum.

"baby, fuck, so good f'me," he'd moan while he fills you up, dick throbbing inside your spasming cunt as he fucks you through his orgasm, "such a good little slut."

more.

[blitzbuckz]

【𐂃】 ❝ Questionable? 'n this is comin' from someone who favors a Kaiju-sized cock. ❞ he'd counter with a snicker, preventing himself from letting out a guffaw. Taking into consideration of their privacy && his friend's feelings foremost. Jokes aside, Blitzø knew how much the King of Lust meant for his former circus partner. He recalled how the blueblood managed to convince Fizz to leave Mammon when he couldn't. For that he felt forever indebted to the sin, to protect them both if he had to. He would never try to tarnish what they have, something he was happy for Fizz obtaining. Hell, after everything the jester's been through -- he deserved it. Though, the way the hitman ended up expressing himself... anyone could have picked up how misleading his words were.

Scarlet eyes widened, almost spilling his drink after receiving their candor && banter response. It wasn't what he was trying to impose but--

FUCK, why did it hurt hearing him say it like that?

as if getting cockblocked. Nevertheless, Blitzø didn't held it against his companion-- he got the memo when he got rejected after asking Fizz for a make-out sesh. Back when they were kidnapped && the jester was held for ransom. He gets it. However, before he could correct himself for his shitty vague inquiry -- the praise caught him by surprise. Eyes glistening, almost watering, as he reminisced everything he did for them. To think... his attempts really did reach him? mattered? He was lost in thought for a minute or two -- until the other's questioning chimed his ears. Bringing the assassin back from his pensive thoughts.

❝ y'... couldn't go any easier on little ol' me? ❞ because, geez, that was a mouthful. Then again, he did kinda deserved it.

❝ Fuck, sorry -- I wasn't talkin' about gettin' baby fever or anythin' like that! It's just... y' see, I met someone who... I don't know, sort of, reminds me of y'? A young imp. He's been through lots of traumatizin' shit yet he's been inspiring crowds all over the rings. Makin' a big name for himself, performing. I feel like y' two would get along great 'n maybe someday we could attend one of his concerts. y'know, an actual good one that doesn't waist all of our spendin' savings. ❞

He had more to say but as he was taking a moment to catch his breath -- the waitress had reached their booth, repeating their orders before placing down their burgers. Parting soon after to let the two continue their talk, although the assassin didn't say anything after that. Instead he waited, nervously, wondering if he said too much. or not enough.

This place most definitely gave Fizz some Lust vibes, just add some more neon lights and naughty pictures on walls and naked statues and boom, Lust coded! He left out a nervous chuckle as Blitzø reminded him when he brought up Ozzie's dick size. Yeah maybe not the smoothest way to tell there was something going on between the two, and it was all true why not share the info right? "Well this place does feel like being back in Lust so I don't mind even tho the food names are still questionable" since in Lust most meals you ordered had just a sexual hints in a good taste and didn't sound like you are about to deep throat a gigantic dick.

Fizz took a quick sip of his drink, raising his brow as he noticed Blitzø being-... pensive. Nervous even. The jester was about to ask was something bothering his friend but Blitzø beat him to it as he started telling what was weighting his mind. Without interrupting Fizz listened, tilting his head a little bit. Not that he ever expected the other to be there for him in every turn and he had done more than enough for Fizz. It was good thing Fizz didn't take another sip out of the water because all the things Blitzø just said left him speechless and confused for a moment. You could easily see how Fizz was trying to process this.

"Okay buddy, you need to give me some more context for this because I can easily say; No thank you, I have a boyfriend and I don't want to have kids with you" Fizz knew Blitzø didn't always think through what he was about to let out of his mouth and this just proved it. "I mean if I ever wanted a kid, which I really don't, I'd ask Ozzie's help for it" he was joking, still knew this was not even remotely what Blitzø was saying even tho he just made it sound like it.

"Believe it or not you've done plenty for me and I wouldn't ever ask you to do more. You've been supportive, helped me with this Mammon situation for example..." he paused for a second.

"But kids, that's one responsibility I couldn't handle to be honest. Overall kids are fine, they are the easiest audience ever and the most grateful, fun to be around with.. except if they are some snobby snot noses whose parents just treads them like they own you and the whole hell...." that was the last time Fizz did any birthday clown gigs. Fuck those rich bitches.

"Why do you ask?"

[redsray]

Batkids playing any kind of board game but make it extra competitive because whoever wins gets to choose what Bruce wears for the next gala.

Bruce, in a sparkly top and skinny jeans:

Reporter: Ah, who chose your outfit tonight, Brucie?

Bruce: That'd be my eldest, dear!

Dick, behind him, full into the gala persona: Flattering, isn't it? He should wear it more often, don't you think, sweetheart?

Reporter, flushed: Oh, absolutely.

Bruce (to Dick): Get a new fashion style. Please.

Dick: Never.

Reporter: Who would be responsible for your wardrobe tonight, Brucie? It's certainly a statement.

Bruce, head to toe in a pink suit and Hello Kitty accessories: Gorgeous, isn't it? All the credit will have to be given to Jason, though, I'm afraid.

Reporter: Your second son, if I'm not mistaken?

Bruce: The very one.

Jason from across the gala hall, trying to not cough up his drink with laughter:

Tim, next to him: He's pulling it off, though. Little spins and everything.

Jason: Still ridiculous. That's Batman right there, Timbo.

Tim, snickering: The Dark Knight, huh?

Bruce, dressed in a collared white shirt, sweater and skirt, looking like he just came out of a light academia novel:

Reporter: Wow, Brucie. Who do we thank for that wonderful outfit choice?

Bruce: Ah, flattering, is it not? Tim's choices when it comes to fashion are wonderful, if not a bit simple.

Tim, nodding from behind him: Only the finest satin skirts. Charming, right?

Tim, to Bruce: Don't call my style simple, Mr. all I wear is black.

[Jason handing Dick $10 in the background because Bruce does, in fact, pull off a skirt.]

Reporter: Oh lord, what a gown! Who influenced your fashion choice tonight, Brucie?

Bruce, in a long green and black gown with gold accessories, nothing short of royal-looking: I fear only one person I know could choose an outfit as gorgeous as this one.

Damian, proudly next to him, in a smaller, matching gown: Only the most exquisite. You lot in this flimsy country cannot compare.

Bruce: Yes, Damian has a fine taste in fashion. He gets it from his mother.

Damian, quieter: Well certainly not from you.

Bruce, dressed in an elegant white dress shirt, long black pants and a corset with red accessories, a fan in his right hand:

Reporter: What an entrance! Anyone to give credit to for the wardrobe, Brucie?

Bruce: That'd be my daughter, she certainly shines with her choice of clothing.

Cass, grinning with a matching fan: Very pretty.

Bruce: Thank you, Cass.

Reporter: Woah, that's certainly new. Any reason for this choice of clothes, Brucie, dear?

Bruce, in a snapback cap, loose jeans and a band t-shirt, complete with rings and a chain around his neck: Well, all of my children are creative, but... Duke might just take the cake for this one, love.

Duke, losing his absolute shit next to Jason, Dick and Tim: You look great, B.

Steph doesn't usually go to galas, but she participates in the game nevertheless. If she wins, god help Bruce, because it's a gamble with her. He either ends up wearing a gorgeous outfit with eccentric and trend-setting accessories or literal checkered pyjamas. Worst yet, he has to say he picked it himself, since he can't directly blame Steph.

[harrysfolklore]

driving lessons - op81

summary: oscar piastri teaches his girlfriend how to drive for the first time

MASTERLIST | JOIN MY PATREON

Life is full or ironies, and the fact that your boyfriend is an F1 driver and you don't even know how to drive is definitely one of them.

You always found it funny how someone who could navigate the most challenging race circuits with ease was dating someone who couldn't even navigate a parking lot, and was utterly terrified of being behind the wheel.

"I just can't believe you don't know how to drive," Oscar said while you were having dinner at his place one night.

"Excuse me, mister. Not all of us dreamed of driving cars for a living since we were kids," you teased, making him chuckle.

"Well, I guess I'll have to teach you how to drive, since that's what I do for a living."

You laughed at his enthusiasm, shaking your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm a lost cause when it comes to driving. I get anxious just thinking about it."

"Oh come on," he threw his head back, "I'll be a great teacher. We'll start slow, maybe in an empty parking lot. If it doesn't work out, we can stop anytime."

You thought about it for a second, you were at an age that it was downright embarrassing to not know how to drive, and maybe Oscar could actually help you face your fear of being behind the wheel.

"Okay," you agreed, "But you have to promise not to laugh at me, and we're not using a one of your McLaren luxury cars."

Oscar's eyes lit up with excitement. "Deal! We'll use something more… beginner-friendly."

"Beginner-friendly?" you raised an eyebrow, "Like what? A go-kart?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," he laughed, "But no, I was thinking more along the lines of a nice, safe, regular car."

"Fine, but you have to be patient with me," you warned, pointing a finger at him, "I mean it, Oscar. One hint of frustration and I’m out."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise. Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Minor detail," he waved off your accusation, making you laugh, "Seriously though, I think you'll surprise yourself. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you retorted, but you couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe not, but it might get me dessert," he shrugged, leaning closer, "And maybe a makeout session before we head to bed."

You threw your head back in laughter, grabbing his cheeks playfully and pecking his lips a couple of times.

"You're a teenager," you said, shaking your head. "But fine, you get dessert, and you snogging session. Just remember, no racing techniques, I don't need to learn how to drift around corners."

"Drifting? In your first lesson?" he placed a hand on his chest in mock offense, "I'm hurt you think so little of me."

"When are we doing this again?" you said, moving to place your empty plates in the dishwasher.

"How about this weekend?" Oscar hoped off his stool, helping you clean around the kitchen, "I'll find us a nice, empty parking lot, and we can take it from there."

"Oscar Piastri, F1 driver with podiums to his name will teach his girlfriend how to drive in a parking lot," you said as you shook your head, "How ironic."

Saturday morning arrived and it was time for your first driving lesson. After breakfast, you and Oscar headed to the empty parking lot in a small, compact car for the lesson. It was far less intimidating than one of his sleek, luxurious cars.

"Alright, let's get started," he said, opening the driver's side door for you. You took a deep breath and slid into the seat, adjusting it to fit your height, Oscar got in the passenger seat and handed you the keys.

"First things first," he began, his voice calm and steady, "Let's go over the basics. Adjust your mirrors so you can see clearly, and get comfortable with the controls."

You nodded, following his instructions. Once you were settled, he guided you through starting the car and putting it into gear.

"Wait," you said before starting the car, "You're teaching your dummy of a girlfriend how to drive a regular car, okay? Don't expect some professional Formula 1 driver stuff from me."

"I promise, just the basics," Oscar chuckled, shaking his head, "We won't be racing anyone today."

"Okay, here goes nothing," you took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition, the engine coming to life with a low hum.

"Great job," Oscar said with a small smile, "Now, put the car in drive and slowly take your foot off the brake."

You hesitated, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. "What if I mess up?"

"You won't," he said confidently, "And even if you do, it's all part of the learning process. Just take it slow."

You took a deep breath and lifted your foot off the brake. The car began to roll forward and for a moment, everything seemed fine until you pressed the gas pedal a bit too hard. The car jerked forward, causing you to panic and slam on the brakes.

"Whoa, easy there," Oscar said, "You're not at Silverstone, remember?"

"This is so much harder than it looks," you huffed, feeling your frustration bubble up, "How do you make it seem so effortless?"

"Years of practice and maybe a little natural talent," he winked, "But seriously, you're doing fine. It's all about getting a feel for the car, let's try it again."

Taking a deep breath, you eased off the brake and gently pressed the gas pedal. This time, the car moved forward smoothly, and you couldn't help but smile at the small victory.

"See? You're getting it!" Oscar encouraged. "Now, let's try a gentle turn. Just steer to the right."

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it slowly to the right. The car responded, and you managed to navigate the turn without any major issues. But as you straightened out, you accidentally hit the windshield wiper lever, causing them to whip back and forth at full speed.

Oscar burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in, despite your embarrassment.

"Well, at least we know the wipers work!" he joked.

"Ugh, I feel stupid," you groaned, fumbling to turn off the wipers.

"It's okay, baby," he leaned in to peck your cheek quickly.

"Stop kissing me, I'll get distracted," you teased.

"Okay, okay," he said, composing himself, "Let's try another lap around the parking lot. This time, no wiper incidents."

You nodded, determined to get the hang of it. You practiced driving around the empty lot, getting more comfortable with each turn and stop.

As the lesson continued, you found yourself improving bit by bit, though there were still moments of frustration.

"Ugh, why won't this stupid thing go where I want it to?" you groaned, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said soothingly. "You're doing great. Just remember to relax your grip a bit. The car will respond better if you're not strangling the wheel."

You did as he said, and you found yourself driving more comfortably around the parking lot, improving with your turns and stops.

"You know," he said at one point, "If you keep this up, you'll be ready to join the grid next season."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. I'll leave the racing to you, thank you very much."

"Fair enough," he said, grinning, "It would be really hard to fight with my girlfriend for the championship."

"Is your girlfriend Max Verstappen and I'm just finding out?" you teased, making him laugh.

"That's a secret I'll never tell," he joked, causing you both to burst into laughter.

After a few more laps around the parking lot, you were feeling more confident behind the wheel. Until the final challenge of the day approached: parking the car.

"Let’s try parking," he suggested after a while, "Find a spot and take it slow."

You spotted an empty space and carefully guided the car into it, but misjudged the angle and ended up crooked. You groaned in frustration. "Why is parking so hard?"

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. "Well, parking an F1 car in the garage is definitely easier, no tight spaces to worry about."

"Ha-ha, very funny," you retorted, but couldn't help but laugh along with him, "Alright, let me try again."

You pulled out and tried parking again, failing to get the car neatly within the lines. "How was that?"

"Okay, so maybe parking isn't your strong suit yet," he teases, "Good thing you're not in a pit stop competition."

"Fine, I had enough for today," you said, unbuckling your seat belt, "I'm ready to go back to being your passenger princess."

Oscar laughed, getting out of the passenger seat and switching positions with you.

"You did great, really," Oscar said once he settled in the drivers seat, leaning over to kiss you, "I'm proud of you, you know. You really pushed through your fear today."

"And we're both still alive so that's a good thing," you joked, making him laugh, "Thank you for being a great teacher, baby."

"All I did was sit here and provide moral support, it's not like I know anything about driving or cars," he teased, "You did all the hard work."

You rolled your eyes with affection, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Maybe next time we'll try an actual road," he suggested.

"Or maybe you can teach me how to do a proper donut," you said, making him throw his head back in laughter.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team."

[oikarma]

number one girl

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: the story of ynmax is a very, very heated topic riddled with holes and chock full of conspiracies: a couple and split to rival brocedes. it's mostly an a f1 thing, though, until you release an album and the internet tries to deduce what ruined a decades-long friendship.

a/n: angst warning. bear with me, you're in for a long ride. we go from twitter to insta to reddit to sdfsd. this was SO FUN!

part one / part two / part three

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liked by stevienicks, georgerussell63 and 3,104,827 others

yourinstagram: "number one girl" out now.

view all 411,295 comments

user1: mother??? music???

user2: our multitalented baby <3

stevienicks: so proud of you ❤️

yourinstagram: so thankful for you 🥺 your support is immeasurable in worth

user3: max verstappen did you-

user4: george listening to this so he can justify bullying max next season

user5: please 💀 i choked on my water reading that

user6: CHARLES IN THE CREDITS FOR PIANO?? how many side quests has this girl roped people into

user7: they're still good friends lol just cause she and max stopped speaking doesn't mean she's not close w the rest of the grid user8: @/user7 right! she and alex have also posted each other quite a bit after the rhode collab

user9: is no one talking about the lyrics 😃 gut wrenching, yes, but the way it all lines up w max??

user10: no babe dw we're all talking about the lyrics user11: my roman empire...

user12: who's this max guy and what does he have to do with my queen y/n

user13: @/user12 he's a formula one driver, they ued to be best friends user12: @/user13 like nascar? omg what i only knew that she debuted in shadow n bone but WHAT IS THIS

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A PAGE FROM Y/N's JOURNAL November 15, 2021

Max is a plane right now to see Kelly. I feel like I've been punched, three times over. The nausea is getting to me.

How could you? Just say all those things, like you always do. Do you mean any of them? When you say "I love you, more than anyone in this life." When you say "You're worth it, really. "When you say "forever." Does anyone ever really mean forever? Forever is part of the foreseeable future. You cannot capture what is beyond that.

You were my life. The words, every moment. An inescapable reminder.

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liked by charles_leclerc, brunomars and 2,819,305 others

yourinstagram: "toxic till the end (ft. lewis hamilton)" is up on youtube and all music platforms ♡

view all 309,418 comments

user1: what. the. fuck.

user2: is she dating lewis? what? y/n girl please stop being cryptic my head can't take all of this 😭

user3: if this is part of the press tour i must say i am now extremely invested in the ynmax drama and i didn't even know who max was until i saw a thread on number one girl...

lewishamilton: Best of luck with your future endeavors, Y/N 🫂 Will be by your side!

yourinstagram: you better be 🫰 user4: the friendship we didn't know we needed

user5: lewis with...pink hair...

user6: max emilian verstappen fumbled so hard

user7: imagine ghosting THE y/n l/n and then she drops this

user8: well, 4 years later but yeah user9: what even is a wdc...

user10: what does the heart mean y/n

user11: bro

user12: so i guess the harry styles dating rumors were all fake 😔 but omg lewis music!!

kellypiquet: Face and voice of an angel 😽

yourinstagram: me? please, pregnancy glow has been treating you good 💕 user13: at least they don't have any hard feelings...

user14: bruno in the likes is the most random thing ever

user15: acting career, check. singing career, check. formula one side quests??? multple checks

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by kellypiquet and 4,103,697 others

lewishamilton: Behind the scenes of Miss Y/N's "toxic till the end" music video

tagged: yourinstagram

yourinstagram: looking good there, lew

lewishamilton: Very kind of you to say user1: trust me we are witnessing the start of a great romance

user2: i don't want to delulu too hard but PLEASE tell me y/n's moved on with lewis it would be the ultimate baddie move

user3: imagine...you won abu dhabi but you lost the love of your life to the guy you beat 🤪 user4: we're all insane but i'm just going to keep dreaming

charles_leclerc: Why am I not in your dump?

yourinstagram: face card wasn't lethal enough user5: she's brutal 💀 user6: our charles's facecard could start wars idk what she's on

user7: daddy please give me ONE chance

user8: give me some of that maranello?? he looks so good oml

user9: focusing on music videos and not racing...no wonder he's washed

user10: @/user9 can you stfu and touch grass user11: @/user9 literally no one asked

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX November 2021

Dear Hey, Y/N.

I realized you blocked me. It hurts. I don't know what to say or what to believe anymore. I miss us. Overstepping was the wrong choice, if you must, but going back is not impossible.

We've been friends for so long. Why can't you won't you try?

I miss you.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/Fauxmoi · 1 day ago hamilton7xc

Max Verstappen and Y/N L/N's infamous split explained?

feralonsos: So she's been pretending he led her on when she lead him on

parking23: I don't know anymore. I know nothing. Don't even talk to me.

forzamcqueen: I want to say it's not about YNMax but 21 (as in 21, when they split?) and Y/N has been coming out with music recently. When you look at the "number one girl" lyrics from Boy's perspective it lines up with this submission. That Max wanted reassurance from Y/N and she gave it to him, but she couldn't give him everything he needed.

↳ roses_berg: @/forzamcqueen I don't know...it seems kind of unlikely. Y/N has a lyric about "chasing the prize" or something like that. What prize would she be chasing? On the other hand, you have Max who has clearly said racing is his passion and he loves winning.

↳ forzamcqueen: @/roses_berg I see where you're coming from but there are a few interpretations. Toxic Till the End suggests she thought his attachment to her was maybe unhealthy, and he kept trying to find ways to keep her by his side. Y/N has mentioned in past interviews (promo for her role in Shadow and Bone, when she was starting to do acting) that she's had bad experience with past relationships and is hesitant on starting a new one.

↳ januaryblues11: @/forzamcqueen Sorry, what interview? Could you link it?

↳ forzamcqueen: @/januaryblues11 No worries, I put it down below. The part I'm referring to is around 5:41.

↳ WolffHornerFan: @/forzamcqueen Okay, okay. I need a timeline then. She must've started filming Shadow and Bone in Oct 2019, then wrapped 4 months later in Feb 2020. This might be the "prize" she's chasing? Her own career. Before it was announced that she was in the series most news referred to her as "close friend" or "best friend" of Max Verstappen. Now a lot of people know her for S&B or Top Gun Maverick, etc.

↳ CautiousOwl: Might've not wanted her relationship to overshadow her career. It's understandable, if she wanted to be taken seriously instead of a "nepo friend."

↳ 4norrisop: She's amazing in Shadow and Bone! Definitely recommend checking that out, but I don't understand why she ghosted him.

↳ ynluv07: @/4norrisop he was dating kelly at the time. she might've thought it was a bad idea after it happened (i'm referring to the kiss, which i assume happened because she explicitly refers to it a few times in "number one girl") and distanced herself. maybe she told him it wasn't okay?

↳ ICEMAN_bwoah: Brain hurts.

↳ brooksies: Well if she did give up her happiness because she thought Kelly deserved better, that's great. No wonder they're still on good terms.

↳ DauntingParrot91: @/brooksies Yeah, sure...

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX January 2022

Y/N, I'm sorry I asked for too much; I'm sorry I pushed you. I'll take my bags and go quietly, this time. Maybe you'll open the door again someday. I love you too, my best friend always.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by lewishamilton, taylorswift and 4,103,269 others

yourinstagram: Burnout.

comments on this post have been limited

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM Y/N February 2022

Wish you'd take a little longer to pack up your bags. You're moving too fast. Make me want to hate you more than I hate myself, so I don't have to miss you. Make a mistake, please. So I have someone to blame.

Please, won't you stay a little longer? I would call you babe, just to make you smile. I wouldn't mean it that way, but I still love you. You're my best friend. Why wasn't that enough?

I'll be okay, sometime. You say it's written all over my face, and I wonder, what is? I'm fragile, now. I'm speechless, now. Don't leave me in pieces. I'm sorry, let me fix it. It won't be good for us, but oh-how I want to.

I'm already having trouble breathing. Please, stay a little longer. I can't stand these four walls without you inside them.

Come back, be here.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

liked by kellypiquet and 1,249,805 others

maxverstappen: She stayed a little longer 🖤

tagged: kellypiquet

view all 91,432 comments

user1: GUYS HE DEF HEARD THE SONG

user2: do we think kelly asked him to post it

user3: tbf given on how sweet her n yns interactions are i wouldn't be surprised if she listened to burnout

user4: kelly. you are the strongest woman i know

user5: so i can convince you the minute i kiss you speak a little softer so i don't have to answer and make it okay before you can say

user6: i just know he had a little breakdown inside after he heard the album

user7: max rn: CHARLES HOW COULD YOU PLAY PIANO FOR HER

user8: max: alexa play that should be me user9: ho-olding your handdd

user10: who are we blaming today

user11: at least max is finally someone's number one girl

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

AN UNSENT LETTER FROM MAX Summer 2024

Sometimes I look to the television and you're on, flying a plane or wielding magic, whatever it is you do these days. I knew you could act. I knew you'd make it far. I hear you were nominated for a Golden Globe, too.

I was mad for a long time. I was upset you kicked me out of your life so abruptly.

Kelly's expecting. I think she will be as good a mother to our child as she is to little P. A family is what I have always wanted, you know. It was not what you wanted.

I am sorry. I have said that many times, but one day I will need to say it to your face. I am truly, irrevocably sorry for all the hurt I caused you, in the name of love.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

r/PopCultureChat · 1 day ago forzamcqueen

"Burnout" by Y/N L/N

How do we feel about the release of the full album? Moreover, how do we think it fits into the YNMax narrative? I, for one, have been listening non-stop trying to figure out the story.

lec_clerc16: I think it's funny how many people have gotten into F1 because of her music. Lol.

↳ NaturalOtter5: Well Lewis & Charles were on it so I would say the F1 community is pretty interested in the tea aswell.

↳ lec_clerc16: @/NaturalOtter5 Right, but YNMax is old drama. Sure, someone's posting in r/F1 every other week about an old photo or new quote. It's still been around for a while. This is fresh meat 😋

jennyowens1342: such a player...LOL who is gameboy about atp

↳ sassybanana: TBF Y/N's dating life has been a lot more quiet than Max's. There have been rumors but she hasn't hard launched anything. Maybe the one public "relationship" was enough for her.

museapollo: the more i listen the more convinced i am that y/n did not want the relationship as max did and decided it was best for them to stop being friends. the whole album is about a codependent relationship and the two people can't deal with leaving but they know it's better for both.

↳ janitorsclosetmonster: yess!! that's what i've been saying. we can't blame y/n for everything, it must've been confusing for her as well. having to navigate everything. idt she'd dated anyone at that point. max was her only close friend.

↳ EggplantParmesan713: But did max cheat...that's the real question. When did THE kiss happen? And who started it?

↳ museapollo: @/EggplantParmesan713 idk. i can't figure if she actually loved him (romantically) bcs it's clear he did but her side is a bit more hazy. you have: 1. "i just WANT it to be you" - it's not actually him she loves but she desperately wants it to be him 2. "cause even when i said it was over / you heard baby can you pull me in closer" - she's telling him it won't work out but he's not listening. 3. "please, won't you stay, stay a little a little longer, babe?" - she pauses before babe, like it's her trying to convince him to stay. mb she thought it was best to distance herself/end the friendship for a bit but she still loves him a lot because they've been friends for so long

↳ forzamcqueen: @/museapollo The best explanation I have heard so far. You can't force someone to love you the way you do. At least they've matured and moved on.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

January 2025

Dear Max:

Congratulations. I'm sure you will be a wonderful father, as I have always guessed. 2024 was a great year for you. I watched all a few of your races; you've still got it.

I'm putting out an album soon. I thought you should know. I already had a talk with Kelly, she's listened to some snippets and she likes it a lot. Some of the writing is about you the things I never said.

It was wonderful being your best friend. We had a good run, better than most.

Missing you Wish you the best, Y/N L/N

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

February 2025

Dear Y/N:

Occasionally, I think of all that could have been.

But we had many years together, and I will always cherish those moments.

Kelly loves the album, she puts it on while she cooks or does her makeup. P sings along in the car. She says she wants to go out for a tea party with you sometime. I listen to it even when they're out of the voice, for a reminder of your voice. You've made quite a name for yourself. I'm sorry I couldn't be there by your side.

Thank you for writing it. There are some things that you have to hear once, just for yourself.

Love Always Yours, Max Verstappen

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

what did you think?? i might do a part 2 of yn & max talking for the first time in forever but i wanna know if you guys liked this one first LOL

[erwinsvow]

random but i can see rafe giving shy!reader like a large amount of “pocket money” and she’ll always wait until she’s fully broke and runs out (if she doesn’t have a job), she’d be so nervous to ask him for more.

at first you're so shy around rafe you can't even find it in you to question what the money is for—you just assume it's some sort of test. you keep the cash in your pretty pink wallet until it's so full it won't fit in your purse.

rafe has no reason to be giving you money—you've got your own, your parents', that is. and suddenly you start to question everything, start overthinking like normal. does rafe think you're reliant on him for money? if so, is he mad at you because of it?

one day when he comes over to your place for once, claiming he wanted to get away from his noisy house to the serenity and peace of your bedroom, you dig out the wallet from under your bed and drop it next to him. he's laying on the mattress, sprawled out playing chess with a robot. the wallet lands with a thud.

like always, you let him speak first.

"what the hell's this?" he asks, lifting the thoroughly packed leather.

"i'm giving it back," you state, trying to remain a little firm. it's so hard around him though.

"jesus, kid," he comments, flicking through the cash. "did y'spend any of it? huh?"

"n-no," you stammer, suddenly nervous. "i kept it safe for you, like you wanted." you look at him with big, confused eyes and he looks back at you in disbelief.

"s'not for that, baby. it's for spending. for nice things, y'know, all the crap you like."

"crap?" you question back.

"stuff. books and records and ice cream when m'not around. y'know, pocket money."

"but i already have that," you reply. "did you think i didn't? did i ask for it?" suddenly confused, you wonder how you gave rafe this implication. "sorry, rafe."

"why are you apologizin'?" you perch yourself next to him.

"i guess because i didn't spend it.."

"well, stop. just use it for somethin' nice. for yourself, not me." he clarifies because he knows you—knows you'll go find him a new polo or golf glove if he didn't tell you otherwise.

and the way he says it—you comply, pressing a kiss to his cheek, mind floating to all the ways you could use it—a new beach read, a new bikini for boat days, ice cream nights with wheezie and a big tip for the nice girls who worked at the parlor.

you were used to spending your dad's money, now you were spending daddy's money. it wasn't that big of a change after all.

and it's really not.. until you run out.

you never had to ask your parents twice for anything, but rafe gives you cash and you don't question why, but now that you're used to getting things from rafe's money, you don't want to revert back. in all honestly, it felt nice when someone asked you where you got something from and you could tell them your favorite words.

"my boyfriend got it for me!"

credit cards are unlimited, but cash runs out. and asking rafe for more seems like the absolute worst thing in the world, especially when you were so hesitant to even start using it.

approaching the door to rafe's bedroom, you pace infront of it for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. ward walks by and smiles at you, though he's confused at what you're doing. panicked, you run in, standing in front of your boyfriend while he's looking at something on his desk. rafe glances up when you walk in.

"hey, kid."

"hi." it even comes out nervous. rafe shuts his laptop at the sound of your voice.

"what is it?" he asks, and you blink back in response.

"what's.. what?"

"y'think i can't tell when you're off? c'mon, start talkin'." you give in immediately.

"well... it's just, um, this cash. your cash. i ran out. and, um, this book i wanted releases out tomorrow. and i told wheezie i'd take her to the movies because that book we both like is a movie now, and it comes out this weekend, and y'know she's a child so-"

"yeah. m'aware."

"sorry," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. "sorry." he gets up from the desk, and you wonder if you really messed up by demanding so much.

"what'd i tell ya? stop apologizin'." when he gets close, rafe does what he always does, lifting your chin up so you're looking at him, his fingers resting on your jaw. "what'd you think? i'm gonna say no to you?"

"maybe. i'm being kinda greedy."

"nah, kid. be as greedy as you want." when you smile, he laughs at you, at how nervous you still get, how worried you are that you're doing something wrong. "besides, i got some ideas on how y'can make it up to me."

sounds like a win-win for you.

[thewickedjazzy]

Bonus Level: “Swoon Over You” [Gravity Suspension x Body worshipping] for Kinktober.

♡soft dom! chuuya x afab curvy! reader.

Synopsis: your thoughts have been clouded by quiet insecurities lately, but of course your boyfriend knows every inch of you better than you do, showing just how much he craves every part of you, even the ones you doubt.

Warnings: ņsfw, mdni, smųt, soft dom! chuu, lovesick! chuu, car sex, mention of insecurities, reader has a female body, alice in wonderland syndrome, titty job, suspension, marking up, body worshipping, unprotected sex.

W/C: 2.3k, this bonus fic is for my bbg hattie <3 @writingandmusing thank you for always supporting me bb and so sorry for being late :( xoxo, divider credits: @/toastray.

you slump against the cool, supple leather of the car seat, eyes half-lidded from the exhaustion that's pressing on every bone of your body, and the rhythmic sound of tires against the asphalt only makes things worse, lulling you into a dazed state as your thoughts race, faster than the car’s smooth glide over the road.

the mission had drained you, both physically and mentally, but that wasn’t what had you on edge now. no, it’s the way you’re trying to sink into the seat, making yourself as small as possible, but the longer you’re still, the more your mind drifts to everything that makes you feel too much. too wide, too thick, too everything.

you try not to shift, not to make it obvious how your thighs seem to take up all the space in the seat, how your hips feel a little more prominent when you sit, thighs not as thin as the other girls around the mafia. and to make it worse, the soft pressure against the fabric of your skirt feels suffocating, but you won’t pull it down now. you just can't. even though you really want to. instead, you bite your lip and force your gaze to the window, watching the city blur past you as you try your best to be calm, pretending like none of it matters, but the redhead executive sitting next to you knows better. he always does.

a soft sigh slips from his lips, your boyfriend of two years knows your tactics just too well, “yer tryin' not to adjust yer skirt, huh? bet that's makin' ya uncomfortable.” he says as a quiet observation. and you can not help but feel the weight of it in your chest. you know for sure that it’s not just a simple comment.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you can’t admit it, can’t tell him what you’re thinking, how every little motion feels like it’s screaming at you.

“you’re lying,” his voice is barely louder than the hum of the engine. “and you know i hate that.”

“i’m not—” your voice cracks, seriously? now?

“babe, i’ve noticed. every time, it’s like yer trynna disappear or somethin’.” he drawls, voice dropping an octave, “i love it, y’know. i love how you fill out that skirt. how your hips look when you’re sittin’ all tense like that. makes me wanna–”

the executive's gaze flickers, almost instinctively, to your thighs – those full, plush curves you can’t seem to hide, “makes me wanna rip that skirt off, pull ya right into my lap and fuck you dumb.”

his voice is a velvet storm, the kind you can’t resist, every syllable crashing into you like a wave of heat, sweeping you beneath its pull, making your thighs tighten, instinctively pressing together.

his hand shifts from the armrest, moving slowly, until it’s at the edge of your seat. you don’t have to look to know where his fingers are heading, breath catching in your throat as his eyes flick up to meet yours briefly, with a well-known smirk blooming at the corner of his lips just the moment his fingers press lightly against the thick, rounded softness of your thighs.

“yer thighs... hmph~ fuckin' delicious.” he leans in, soft pink lips pressing against your neck as his hand pushes further, gloved thumb traces slow circles on your skin, yet you can’t stop the way your body reacts, “want me to show you how flawless you are, baby?”

“chuuya! we’re in a car, for god’s sake... a fucking mafia chauffeur is literally driving us right now.” you hiss, trying to shove his hand away, but the movement is like the ebb and flow of the tide, pulling back only to crash against what it desires.

“ tsk tsk.. babe, you worry too much,” the redhead mutters, fingers digging into your thigh, the heat from your skin almost making him drunk on it. “we got a soundproof glass for a reason, sweetheart. he won’t hear a damn thing.”

“but..chuu–” you bite your lip, trying to force down the heat rising in your chest.

“ain’t no one stopping me but you.” his voice is so smooth, almost tender, but his body says otherwise, pressing against you, and you can definitely feel the telltale strain of his dress pants — he’s too locked in now, “tell me to stop, babe and i will...but we both know you don’t really want me to.”

the weight of his hands changes, pressing harder, pinning you in place like iron shackles — not just hands anymore but something more insidious. his gravity manipulation seeps in, the red hue force tightening around your limbs just enough to leave you breathless. you can't move. can't struggle. and honestly... do you even want to?

“fuck baby... look at you,” the executive's voice cuts through your haze as he leans back to drink you in. the seatbelt suddenly comes alive under his touch, snapping against your wrists, jerking your arms above your head with a sharp tug. did he plan this? or was it 'a heat of the moment impulse?’ not that it matters cause you’re already wincing as the straps bite into your skin, securing you against the cold window.

“does it hurt?” he purrs, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk that’s more taunt than his question. you shake your head, lips parting slightly as the same pressure that paralyzed your arms works its way lower, pulling your body closer until you're forced against him, feeling your back digs into the window and your right leg dangles helplessly off the seat as the rest of you is stretched taut in his grip.

he hasn’t touched you — not really — but it doesn’t matter. cause you can feel him everywhere already. the car feels smaller, claustrophobic, the air pressing against your chest as his fingers twitch, moving toward your legs like they have a mind of their own. slowly, more like agonizingly, they hover just above your skin, undeniable foretaste humming in your veins more and more feeling him leer over you, cataloguing every reaction, every involuntary twitch of your muscles.

“every damn inch of you gets me harder than you can imagine.” his hands finally land on your thigh, tearing the sheer fabric with ease, fingers pressing down to trace your folds through your undies before sliding up and down your inner thighs with adoration. “and yet... here ya are, hidin’ from me. thinkin’ there’s parts of you i wouldn’t worship.”

your breathing quickens, a shallow staccato, and you hate the way you’re shaking under him — not with fear, not exactly, but with something far more compromising. the seatbelt strains against you as you instinctively jerk your arms, testing the hold, but it’s useless. you’re caught, bound, and his ability doesn’t just control your body. it strips away your autonomy, leaving you suspended in his web. and he knows it.

his fingers find the buttons of your shirt, popping them open with maddening ease. “wanna know what’s so damn unique about your body, dollface?” his palm slides over your lace bra, fingers curling possessively as he squeezes softly. you gasp sharply, feeling his hot mouth against your skin, trailing open kisses down your collarbone, sharp teeth nipping before his tongue soothes the sting. you can’t move, can’t think — only feel him, feel his possessive grip on you tightening as he groans low in his chest, “fuhh-kk – those fat titties get me off harder than you’d ever imagine.”

“ch-chuu– stop teasing please.” you whimper with a trembling breath as you arch into him, desperate for more. more of his touch, more of his kisses, as if each fleeting moment only leaves you craving the next. he growls low in his throat, oh- that sound that makes your heart race, pumping blood faster as he deftly undoes the buttons of his vest and dress shirt. your hands ache to roam, to trace the hard lines of his body, to feel the muscles beneath your palms that have haunted your dreams during your time apart. honestly, you can't deny it — not even for a second — how much you’ve missed him, how every inch of him feels like a need too urgent to ignore.

“lemme show you, doll. lemme use every fuckin’ piece of you until you see what i see.” chuuya rasps unbuttoning his belt urgently, he couldn’t stop the way his cock twitched the second it's freed it from his uniform slacks. hard enough now that the foreskin slowly began peeling back on it’s own. he moves closer already palming it. you swallow down the lump in your throat, instinctively parting your lips lewdly, thinking he’d claim your mouth, but he had other plans.

his index finger curls around your bra gore pushing your tits together, cerulean eyes rolling back lost in a wave of pleasure as his cock slides between your breasts, squeezing them tighter with each thrust. grumbling above you, strands of fiery hair hanging in his face as he continued to fuck your tits over and over again.

“jesus fu-hkin’, yer tellin’ me ngh– you hate ’em? look at ’em getting me off–fuckk.” he's too riddled with lust head to toe to even move at this point. he wanted to say something but you fogged his mind so completely that chuuya is now reduced to a moaning mess. a few beads of pre-cum roll down his shaft, soaking your tits and making it even easier as he continues thrusting as his gravity ability still holds your wrists pinned above your head.

chuuya leans down to kiss you, hot mouth crashing feverishly against yours, tongue poking in and swirling around yours as he sucks a bit harsher than usual before aligning himself perfectly with your slit. it feels like a fever dream — you don’t even recall how he changed positions so quickly, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and securing them tightly with his ability. and then you catch it, that half-lidded look of his, the one he always gives you before he pushes in. so full of love and adoration, like he’s already on cloud nine. his jaw goes completely slack as he sinks into you, as if the sheer feeling of your tight walls around him is enough to undo him entirely.

“fuck! chuu– ba-byyy– mmffuch” your desperate pleas are swallowed as he kisses you again, this time far messier.

teeth, tongue, spit — he just adores how you taste. your wet cupid's bow quivers into a pout as he ups his pace, a rarity for him. usually, he’s slow and sweet, savouring every moment, never rushing, always ensuring you’re not hurt. after all, he’s pretty thick, and no matter how many times you’ve done this, it always takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size.

he breaks the kiss, teeth sinking into your collarbone, your breasts, your shoulders, marking you with a trail of bruises that will soon bloom into a tapestry of stormy violet, soft grey, and deep green.

“shit umph..every inch of you – is ugh – etheral..” one hand grips your thighs firmly, while the other latches into your nipple tongue flicking away to make your back arch in response. “ ’m so fuckin’ gone for you baby.”

“y-yes – fuck don't stop chuu– i-i need you... i need more please-”

“y-yeah? want me to show you how much i love you, hmm? fuck you like – oh shit –you’re mine, baby? ‘cause you are — every inch of you – oh fuck – ‘can feel your pussy swallowin’ me. so tight. so perfect.” both your minds are completely overtaken by the intense pleasure and the love you have for each other, oblivious to the car rattling as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot over and over again, never slowing, never faltering for a second. he's lost in the pleasure, consumed by his love for you.

“this pussy’s mine, yeah? jus’ mine – no one else fucks you like this only me. ‘s gonna – ‘s gonna make me – fuhh-ckk”

erotic breaths and moans fill the car as you bodies rock together, riding out your release in perfect rhythm, the heat between you both building, bodies pressed close, pressure intensifying with every thrust. and just for a few seconds his gravity ability wavers enough for your wrists to slip free and wrap tightly around him, pulling him closer as 'i love yous' spill from his lips, each word nourishing your orgasm, making it smolder like fire as you both melt into each other.

chuuya presses his forehead to yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"i love you so much chuu…" you murmur softly, feeling his hot breaths fanning across your neck.

his lips hover over yours, kissing you gently, over and over, drinking you up like his favourite wine. “say it again, baby,” he whispers between kisses, “i need to hear it.”

you smile, rolling your eyes playfully as you feel your heart swell with adoration, “i love you, chuuya.”

the so-called-ruthless executive chuckles, gloved hands tenderly cupping your face. “oh yeah? say it one more time baby, please?” he says playfully now, but still adorned with a sweet vulnerability, as you both melt into laughter and sweet kisses, whispering sweet nothings, oblivious to the fact that you'll be arriving at headquarters in just five minutes.

well, for now? the mafia can wait.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irazai @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @perlaslibrary @remlionheart @osamucide @ranpazz @naviiq

[deepspacenova]

Zayne’s insomnia + Sylus being the perfect cure HCs

Zayne x Sylus (x Reader)

Incidentally, reader is third wheeling in like, this whole list (but somehow I feel like many of us won’t mind).

[Inspired by the replies in this post with @leighsartworks216 where we spiraled about Zayne + Sylus… dynamics that made my brain go into full HC mode.]

Sylus taking care of day to day Onychinus business when he starts to notice traces of Zayne around the house at night: a medical tome left open on the coffee table, a glass of ice water (but mostly ice) on the counter, one of Zayne's rings on the end table;

Pretty sure he understands, Sylus ventures out of his office more often. Each time he sees Zayne, he looks more exhausted but the one time Sylus raises a brow at him, he’s brushed off with an, "I'm fine.";

Sylus, of course, takes it as a challenge and makes it his mission to become the biggest tease. I mean, he's king of pushing the limits of your self control, so Zayne’s cinder block wall exterior is the ultimate challenge and he’s set on tearing that shit down brick by fucking brick;

It starts with touches. Brushing Zayne's hand, playfully squeezing the back of Zayne’s neck when he walk past him on a business call, using his evol to pull Zayne's books, phone, snacks out of his hands;

But then there's Sylus' words. And when it comes to those, Zayne's a goner. He's used to you being forward in your affections with him but he can't help but clear his throat at Sylus' double entendres and flirty quips, or feel heat in his abdomen when Sylus uses his drawling rasp;

"You’re always so tense, Z. Want me to loosen you up?";

"Those medical texts aren't doing anything to put you to sleep. Maybe you need something that penetrates deeper... into that overactive mind of yours.";

"I know you're the doctor, but maybe you need someone else to prescribe your... treatment tonight.";

It’s not long before it becomes a subconscious thing for Zayne — seeking out Sylus whenever he jolts awake at night. Zayne's very adamant that it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb you in bed though (sure baby boy);

But there's something about Sylus’ ruthless teasing and the mind games they play that has him tired out within an hour of even the worst of his nightmares;

And he'd never admit it out loud but sometimes, Zayne falls back asleep imagining the satisfaction he'd get from finally silencing the Onychinus leader's teasing by stuffing his cock down his throat;

Of course Sylus can tell when Zayne’s frustration and tension finally snaps. His new favorite thing is seeing Zayne try to resist him before he gives up and crawls back into bed;

Sylus knows exactly how to wear him down. Sometimes, it’s pulling the book from Zayne's hand with his evol, only to say "Careful, doctor. Grabbing it like that might get you into trouble,” when Zayne reaches over to snatch it back;

Sometimes he sneaks up behind Zayne, kissing the back of his neck while his Evol tugs Zayne's hips back against him;

Cut to Zayne, pants pulled down to his ankles, legs over Sylus's shoulder, getting the best fuckin blow job of his life. Sylus holding onto his thighs, refusing to let the doctor hesitate to squeeze around his head. Zayne's hand in Sylus's hair, pulling and tugging and trying to keep some semblance of control;

Zayne throwing his head back against the couch, breath choked in his throat, hand tight in Sylus's hair to keep his nose pressed to his stomach, but then Sylus pulls off of him. It's frustrating, it draws unexpected noises from him. And Sylus just smirks and says he promised to tire him out, kissing all up his hip and legs; (credit to @leighsartworks216 for these pieces of genius).

On particularly bad nights, Zayne goes to the balcony to catch his breath and some cold air to calm himself down. One night Sylus, effortlessly smug with the phone at his ear, at work, uses his evol to force Zayne to his knees. "Handle it today," he says to the person on the phone, "you know how I like to put men in their place.";

Speaking of, Sylus loooves edging Zayne. Leaving him a panting, writhing mess, pulling away just when Zayne’s hand tightens in his hair or his breath hitches in his throat. “I said I’d tire you out, but I never said I’d make it easy.”;

For a guy who doesn't say much, Zayne's vocal and very demanding in the heat of the moment - which wakes you up sometimes.

Knowing all about Sylus' scheme to tire Zayne out, you love sliding into bed hand pressed to his chest, "Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing, maybe we need to do some tests?" Sylus chuckles darkly, watching Zayne’s eyes flutter between both of you. The idea of you both teaming up to tire him out finally makes Zayne’s control slip;

The best time of day is twilight, a few hours before you and Zayne start the day, as Sylus is ending his. The three of you fall into bed, Zayne's body is exhausted and his mind is quiet. Barely keeping his eyes open when his fingers twine with yours. Sylus pulls you close from behind, his hand on top of both of yours. Sylus smirks at both of you, proud of himself. "The only nightmare you two are allowed to have is me."

[multimilfs]

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader: In Omnibus Aequitas

Summary: Agatha isn't the only witch with a force of nature trailing after her.

AO3

A/N: oh my god i can't explain how excited i am to post this! so much thought and careful crafting went into this!! actually begging someone to ask for the TED talk on my planning process for this because hooooo boy

this is my first time writing Lilia, so apologies if the characterization is shaky at all!

also to give credit where credit is due, the idea for this Reader was prompted by a post from the brilliant trickofthelights, whom i admire greatly. i'll attach the post here

Tag List: @emiliaisdead @kenzie-floops @nightmare-of-homophobes @thepotatoislost @mckiejames @women-are-so-ethereal @galaxydreamer468 @angeliccss @goldenautomaton @asolitaryrose3 @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld

Warning(s): None

Shadows often linger in the periphery of Lilia’s vision; this she has grown to accept, on the basis that they are gone when she turns to face them. And she is glad of it each time. The twisted shapes and figures of the primordial horrors that linger are not made to be witnessed, even by her eyes.

So when a figure lingers, she turns with the expectation of seeing the silhouette vanish, but she’s not the only one who turns.

It strikes her as odd that Rio should see whatever she does. This thought occurs to her mid-ballad, fire licking at the back of her neck. When she looks, though, the figure does not vanish, but neither is it a horror to behold.

You are as beautiful as she remembers. The memory, coupled with your eyes on her, nearly trips her up. But Lilia holds strong through the rest of Lorna’s ballad—even as the burns on her shoulders ache, even as your eyes dart away and meet the curious gaze belonging to Rio, even, even as you watch her with that unerring devotion she had once craved.

When Alice tilts her head back, singing with the full force of her soul, Lilia’s eyes leave you. She watches the curse burn to ash above Alice.

You’re gone when Lilia glances back.

---

Sharon, human she may have been, was right about one thing—no witch can be expected to traverse the road without rest. So, the coven opts to take turns keeping watch around the little fire they’ve built.

Lilia volunteers for the first watch, restless, feeling the weight of eyes on her still. She should’ve known you wouldn’t stay away long.

Your entrance comes when the rest of the coven has fallen asleep; Jen and Alice on one side of the fire, propped up against the rock they sat upon, Agatha furthest from the fire, back to it, while Rio—if that is her true name—sleeps near enough to lay a hand on her waist. Teen, she assumes, remains in the makeshift bed they made for him.

She sees your shadow at the edge of the clearing, hesitant. Looking over her coven one last time, she stands, and walks to where you wait outside the light.

“What do you want?”

You reach out, a hand on either side of Lilia’s face. She doesn’t shake you off. Yet.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I left.” You murmur.

Lilia’s lip curls, “Are your brutal truths meant to be endearing?”

“No. They’re meant to be nothing more than what they are.”

Against all odds, Lilia has yet to throw off your hold. You run your thumb gently over the curve of her jaw. Everything in you wants to kiss her—has dreamt of it for over a century—but you know it won’t be welcome.

Her curls are frayed and wild around her face in an endearing picture. Mess suits her just as well as refinement; though that could be your bias talking.

“Why are you here?” Lilia asks.

“Because you’re here.” And because your job brought you here, but that’s less romantic.

She seems to sense the omission. Any warmth drains from her expression, her hands removing yours from her person. You miss the closeness immediately.

“A truth and a lie. Which will come next?”

“It wasn’t a lie. I could’ve been anywhere.”

“Then go there. But leave the coven out of this.”

“I have no choice, Lilia.”

Lilia scoffs, “You had a choice when you vanished for a century!”

You close your eyes against the reminder. Hurt flares through you. The ache from years of longing, feeling that veil between you exist so thin, yet being unable to reach through. You hadn’t even been allowed a glimpse.

It was torment. A century should have been easy, but a life without Lilia felt like clawing your way through. If you tell her, will she believe you?

“Please.” You whisper. You’re not sure what you’re asking for.

“Goodnight.”

You hear her walk away, can’t stop yourself from blurting, despite the consequences, “Please, don’t put yourself in harm's way.”

Her jaw is tight, eyes wary. She looks you over as if something about you will give away what you know.

She crosses her arms over her chest. You recognize it as both a way to keep you out and support herself. You ache to be let back in.

“This whole Road is a death wish.”

“Don’t put yourself in more danger than normal.” You say, then, smaller, “I can’t protect you.”

“Are you asking for my sake or your own?”

“Whichever you’ll listen to.”

“Why ask at all?”

You step forward, hands outstretched to take hers, but you stop short, “Because I love you, Lilia.”

The admission makes her flinch. Her eyes water and she swallows hard. For a fleeting moment you see the startling vulnerability behind her eyes—the loneliness you should have quelled—before she locks it away.

“You can’t love.” Lilia sneers, “It would tip the scales too much.”

“That’s not true.” You defend.

“Oh? Then who, in this wretched universe, have you decided to hate?”

You bite your tongue. Lilia takes your silence for its own—incorrect—answer. Bitterness creeps into her smile.

“Goodnight.”

---

“Here to watch the big show?” Rio asks, lagging behind while the others move forward.

“Just doing my job.”

“Really? I’d say things were pretty square when you showed up.”

You eye her, despising her knowing smile, “Why are you here?”

“My job.”

“Hm. And how many bodies have you collected, again?”

Her smile is wide, but her eyes are cold. She’s always despised that the two of you are equals; that she can’t add you to her menagerie of bodies. Just the same, you’ve despised that you can’t write her name down.

Agatha looks back and tilts her head. You know she can’t see you. Like nothing has happened, Rio turns that grin on Agatha, skipping back to her side.

You catch Lilia’s eyes on you and ignore the question in them.

---

Lilia watches. She follows you in her periphery, makes note of where you are at all times. Her eyes always dart to your hands. Every time she finds them empty, she relaxes.

She’s taken watch, again. You read the weariness in her posture.

Against your better judgment, you lay your hands on her shoulders. She doesn’t shrug them off.

“You need rest as much as they do, beloved.” You murmur.

She stiffens at the old endearment, “We’re splitting the time. I’ll manage.”

You run a hand through her hair. The curls are still loose, wild. You untangle a few of them. Squeezing her shoulder, you place a kiss to the top of her head, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, your hand quivers. You still it. Your punishment was endured with grace, you must endure the distance with the same.

“Sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

Lilia scoffs, “Right.”

The weight of her mistrust is like a knife in your chest. You do not endure the pain with grace; you flinch, tears springing unbidden to your eyes. Lilia’s eyes close in regret.

You wonder if your presence is more of a burden than blessing. Had you mistaken her intent all those years ago? Love is not an emotion that’d come to you naturally. Perhaps, in your learning, you misunderstood, and Lilia’s kind heart wouldn’t allow her to break your illusion.

She had loved you once, hadn’t she? You could swear she had.

“You have to know I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Unless the greater universe calls for it.”

Her tone is honest, but sadness lingers within it. All you want is to see her face.

“If I thought it would do you any favors, I’d throw it all away.” You admit in a whisper.

Lilia turns, then. Her brows are furrowed as her eyes search your own, frantic, swimming with fear. In another time and place, you’d follow the statement with a smirk; but you cannot bring yourself to summon the facade now, not with her.

It isn’t a lie—your admission. If not for the overturning of the world without you, you’d forsake the job on your shoulders. You’d unmake yourself in a moment for her. For the younger witch who sang freely and lamented her gifts. For the wizened witch who eyes you with trepidation, mind rife with your betrayals and shortcomings.

“Where are your lies?” She asks.

“I tell them to myself, so you can have all my truths.”

Lilia smiles then, but it’s bittersweet. A warm hand settles on your cheek. You can’t help it—grace be damned—when you press yourself into the contact. They’re still there—the callouses you remember, rough against your flesh. She still smells of smoke.

There’s a rustling of fabric across the space. Alice shifts, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. Lilia’s touch is gone from you. You settle next to her as she rests, not brave enough to lay another hand upon her.

---

You watch the knife fall as if time has slowed; absently, you think it might be, Time always did love her cruel jokes. It falls with Teen in the direct path. You feel the pen heavy in your hand, the paper near-weightless and yet the heaviest thing you’ve come to bear.

But then Lilia moves. The one moment you need time to slow for you, it’s returned to normal. Lilia shoves Teen out of the way and takes his place in the dagger’s path.

You fall to your knees, “No!”

Throwing your arms out, you aim a burst of magic for the dagger. Consequences be damned. Alice is faster, though, and moves Lilia from the dagger’s path before your magic can make contact.

Rio’s eyes are heavy on you. She can’t do anything—you didn’t technically break any rules, but the intent is damning enough.

“Now this is going to be fun.” Rio purrs.

You stare at the pen and blank paper you dropped in your haste to save Lilia. Your purpose. How close you’d come to unmaking yourself and yet… yet, a part of you is ambivalent to this. The larger part is freaking out, though.

Everyone’s eyes are on you. You flinch. They shouldn’t be able to see you.

Checking your mental list of active charms, you realize you’ve made an error; in your grief-induced act of heroism, you dropped every single charm on your person and directed the energy toward Lilia. The cat’s out of the bag, it would seem.

Lilia is the first to recover, moving out of Alice’s protective hold, “Do you ever think?”

You bristle, yet to stand from your kneeling position. It gives her an advantage over you this once.

“Well and often.” You defend.

“Well?” She questions, beautiful in her terror and rage, “You call that thinking well? You could’ve been killed!”

“You were in danger, Lilia.”

“And you’re not allowed to interfere.”

Ignoring all the eyes on the two of you, Lilia turns and storms through the exit that opened. You watch the road-conjured costume melt back into her normal visage as she gets further away.

It’s then that you recognize the silence.

All of them are staring at you save for Agatha, who eyes Rio with a mixture of trepidation and understanding. You stand as gracefully as you can manage. Smoothing down your clothes, you try to smile, but the action feels slippery on your features. How long has it been?

“What is it with you witches and beautiful mysteries?” Jen asks, “And where can I get one?”

You flush and fidget. The weight of their attention is so much less pleasant than your beloved’s.

Alice tilts her head, “Who are you?”

Holding out your hand, you speak your name. Rio laughs. You blush, remembering that mortal creatures don’t comprehend the original language, not like the two of you. Lilia once said it sounded like botched latin. The coven exchanges various looks of confusion.

“Lilia just calls me—”

“A pain.” Lilia’s voice cuts in, “A very severe, persistent pain. Are you all coming?”

You’re the first to follow, which prompts no shortage of grumbling. You find yourself grinning.

---

“Well, at least we have extra help on The Road.” Jen shrugs, later.

“She can’t help.” Lilia and Rio say in unison.

The two share a look. You can read the distaste in Lilia’s eyes. She doesn’t seem to think much of Rio, not that you do either—and you actually know her.

“Seemed pretty eager to help you, Lilia.”

“A foolish, misguided mistake on her part.”

You flinch at the statement, staring down at your hands. With the charms gone, you witness their true appearance; one completely dark, as if left to char in ember, the other so pale-white it is near translucent.

The beauty of a mortal body with a mortal heart is a range of emotion you’d have never felt before. Though lately, the gift feels more like a burden. Pain is your ever-present companion these days. Even when you look at your beloved, the love that overtakes you is laced with poison; with the reminder of what you had to do.

You can’t bring yourself to wish away the heart in your chest. But you do wish Lilia would be a bit more gentle with it. You’re hardly in the position to make requests, though.

“I can assist in small ways. Taking a watch at night, tending the fire.”

“No.” Lilia shuts you down. You freeze, “You are to do nothing but observe. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, beloved.”

You ignore the look between Alice and Jen.

---

The end of The Road is so near you can practically taste it. It tastes of rot and chaos, but you put that down as a symptom of your disposition. You watch Lilia and the rest of the coven relax, inhaling deeply.

A smile teases at Lilia’s lips.

“What do you smell?” You whisper.

The smile doesn’t vanish as you expect. Rather, it extends to her eyes as she regards you.

“Your perfume.”

You melt. Knees like jelly, you take her hand in your own, and press a kiss to the back of it, ignoring the eyes on the two of you. The Witches Road will give you what you most desire at the end. And before the last trial, it gives the traveler a taste of what their prize is. She can’t reach the end without knowing the truth.

“This body wasn’t mine, did you know that?” You ask. Her expression shifts as she grows a bit more tense in your hold. You hold tighter, “The witch before me had a little over a century left in her when I came. As payment, I had to serve out the rest of her years without the one thing that made it feel like living.”

The words are tumbling from you faster than you can comprehend them. You watch her face, hoping that what you’re stringing together makes enough sense for her to see. Even if it takes some other force whispering the facts into her ear for her to understand, you’ll just be happy that she knows.

Lilia’s the brightest witch you’ve ever known. She’ll figure out what you’re saying, but you just can’t stop; you need to say the words you’ve been dying to say for all these years.

“I never wanted to leave you, beloved.”

There’s no privacy on this cursed road, but you don’t care. If she asked it of you, you’d tell every soul you met how you love her. Lilia Calderu owns your heart, but even more than that, she owns your soul, and you have no desire to take it from her hands—even if she decides to rip it to pieces as repayment.

Let the coven know how you lived a century-long prison sentence to be with her. Let Rio and the greater powers know. You have no shame.

Lilia sneers, “You foolish woman.”

Her hands fist in the front of your shirt and pull your lips to hers. It’s messy; a clash of teeth and lips and noses, a poor imitation of the world-tipping kisses the two of you have found in one another. You’re both horribly out of practice. Never let it be said, however, that passion does not make up for tact. The near-quivering of Lilia’s grip and the force of intent behind her kiss makes up for any clumsiness.

The time on The Road has left her lips chapped, bitter with the remnants of lipstick, and never before have you known something so utterly perfect. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close enough that not a breath can exist between you. She sighs against your lips.

A curse of a mortal body is the functions that a higher being like yourself wouldn’t deem necessary; in this case, the need your lungs have for oxygen. Your heart is beating out of your chest and not from desire.

You pull back, panting, forehead resting against Lilia’s.

Breath successfully acquired, you tilt your head and press your lips to Lilia’s cheek, her temple, her forehead—anywhere you can reach, murmuring, reverent, “Lilia. My Lilia.”

“Darling.” She whispers with every kiss, voice hushed with devotion.

A lifetime apart seen to its end. Your fingers still itch with the pent up desire to hold her despite doing so. You were shameless before, but now… Gods help her.

Rio watches the entire display with shameless interest. Her eyebrows are high, a small, curious smile on her lips. Teen had been the first to turn away and busy himself with watching The Road. Somewhere mid-kiss, the remaining three found something more pressing to devote their attention to.

The lack of seeing, however, does not stop Jen from sighing, “When will it be my turn?”

Alice laughs at her side.

---

“Did you know all along?”

Lilia looks up at Agatha’s hushed question. She takes in the messy, haggard, but satisfied look of her fellow witch. She also catches the look Agatha throws your way. You sit across the clearing, Teen at your side, listening with rapt attention as you explain something about the moon.

“I had a suspicion when you mentioned my fortune.” Lilia admits.

A suspicion. A burgeoning hope she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

“Oh?”

“What is fortune if not a lack of balance?” She shrugs, unable to look away from you, “To change it meant the end of my pain.”

“Enter, your solution.”

“Solution and problem.”

The two share a wry laugh. Lilia’s careful not to ask any pointed questions about Rio, though curiosity does eat away at her. Is anyone better suited to appreciate her experience?

Rio, while polarizing, is beautiful—and seems to have attached herself to Agatha in a way best suited to the witch. There is a beauty in it. Though she admits she’ll always prefer your well-meaning brutality over that which Agatha receives. To each their own.

“The Road seems to play favorites, giving you your prize early.” Agatha muses.

“Having her isn’t the prize,” Lilia corrects, “keeping her is.”

Agatha hums, eyes contemplative.

You’re aware of the eyes on you from across the clearing, but pay it little attention, instead devoting yourself fully to the question Teen has asked you. Gesturing with your hands, you weave similarities between the First Coven and their own. He watches you with a starstruck expression.

Something in your conversation prompts him to tilt his head. He fiddles with the little spellbook attached to his hip. Your musings come to a natural close and he speaks up.

“Can I ask—why Lilia? I mean, she’s great, but I guess I don’t understand.” Teen changes the subject.

You smile.

“Do you know the average person’s response to upsetting the state of the world?” You ask. Teen thinks, then shakes his head, “There isn’t one. It doesn’t matter what they’ve undone in the grand scheme, they’re painfully ignorant of what they’ve done. And what’s worse, most don’t care.”

It’s an old grievance you have with the greater universe. You recognize the necessity of it, but will never deny how it grates on you.

“Lilia… Lilia spent a large part of her life as a harbinger of tragedy. She’d travel through villages and upturn their worlds with a prediction.” You sigh, chest aching with the pain you know she suffered, “But when she did, she always sought to fix it. There were times she leveled the scales so completely that I didn’t have to do a thing. Few had ever considered me in such a way before.”

You look up from your fidgeting hands to Lilia. Her eyes are already on you. The warm, steady weight of her gaze makes you melt.

“And the others, well, none of them were her.”

Teen nods, “That’s sweet. I think.”

You chuckle. In a moment of fondness, you ruffle the curls on his head. He rolls his eyes but allows the contact; how do you tell a force of nature no?

---

You stare back down The Road with the coven. Though the return journey will be without any of the usual hassles, you curse the greater powers for not just providing an exit door. Your feet are killing you.

Lilia looks weary despite having rested. You rub a hand over her back, working out the knots you find with a skilled hand. She sighs.

“Where do we go from here?” She asks.

You raise a brow, “Back to the start of The Road.”

Lilia glares, though it lacks significant heat, “Us, darling.”

Ah.

“Wherever you lead, beloved.”

“That’s a lot of control.”

“Give me a century or so and I’ll start making decisions again.”

Her fingers lace through your own. Lilia stares down the length of The Road she has traversed and conquered, yet the greatest battle lies beyond. The world will never again be the same for her.

You raise her hand to your lips. You press gentle kisses to the knuckles.

“To the return of your glory.” You murmur.

Lilia looks at you for a long moment. Using your hold, she pulls you down, into a short but mind-numbing kiss. You hold tight and sigh, content.

She corrects, “To the return of balance.”

[rene-darling]

here me out on this, afab Scara, reader eating him out while praying, since you mentioned in your 'how easy to bed each of the scara eras' that he likes being worshipped I think it'd be pretty interesting.

TO- be worshipped is to be loved.

...you pray daily, without fail you pray to your god, in a place..made best for prayer...credits [Oishru] on X

Hinted AFAB scaramouche though it's not clearly described, gn neutral reader, as reader's gender is not hinted to! Though if you squint its kinda hinted to the fact that the reader is in the church very often

So it can be perceived as nun!reader, but you can also take it as priest!reader

...scaramouche...

Wanderer wouldn't like to be worshipped as much as his past self, scaramouche would.

He finds it embarrassing to part his legs for you; in order for him to feel worshipped, he needs to feel above you, at least in the beginning. His back is cushioned by soft pillows as he tugs in your hair trying to ground himself in some way,

Tugging fists fulls he can't decide whether to pull you into the heat spreading through him or to push you away, it's too much!

And your soft, ever so sweet words- a contrast to your harsh tongue which eats him raw, a contrast to even his own harsh grip. But you never say anything. You don't complain about the scratch marks or the fist full of your hair that he pulls out

Nor about the blood that seeps from any part of you that he holds on to, his grip is never yielding, afraid that if he lets go, you'll go too.

But those thoughts get buried the longer the night goes on, spasms of his body shaking at every touch every lick every tug. His body presses against the statue of the archon, the stone carved to perfection. His gaze sometimes moved behind you to the church doors wondering what the nuns would think of the sacrilegious scene before them.

Tears as he listens to your murmur your face burned deep within him sending vibrations up his spine. Murmurs, more like prayers. The ones which would be considered holy, and innocent if not for where and how you were exactly praying.

His head rocked back and forth as if nodding in agreement to whatever you said, as if he himself would make it come true. Squirting onto your face as you drank him up like holy water,

You'll look up every once in a while, mouth dripping as you would ask him to fulfil your prayers "if- hah, if you bring me pleasure- then- I'll accept whatever prayer you wish for- AH-"

He's never felt this high, this above. Here you are at a place of worship- worshipping him. Your archon, your god. The one that he couldn't be.

Sweet slick drips down the hard stone of the statue as his legs are spread on top of either side of your shoulder. "Wh- ah mhm- am- I- I" barely a whisper, but you hear every oracle from your dear, "my archon." And with a pop of your lips as you let go of the meal that you were latched onto "my god."

That alone brings him over the edge, body slumping against the stone as tears fall like endless waterfalls. Yours, that's what he is.

[fillinforlater]

Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 1759 words

Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet

TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol

(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)

“I want one more…”

Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.

Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.

Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.

In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…

It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.

Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:

“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”

No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.

“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.

“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”

That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…

It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.

Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.

It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.

Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).

Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection). 

Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around. 

Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.

You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well. 

This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out. 

With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity. 

Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.

You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.

Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is. 

You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen? 

"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."

[pomefioredove]

hello hello! i see that the headcanon requests are open, so i have arrived 🐺🐺 i'd like to request the housewardens + chenya, neige and ortho with a reader that's mute! i feel like this would be an interesting thing to go off of. feel free to write it as something reader gained after a certain event, or as an illness that they were born with. platonic would be great, but i think romantic would be absolutely adorable too (minus ortho obviously) so go wild, do whatever you want >:) if this is fine for you to write of course!! love your writing, youre my favourite blog on tumblr hehe (runs away)

thank you so much!! and ofc ofc. I'm writing this based off my own experiences with being semiverbal so if I get something wrong,,, that's on me 😔

summary: nonspeaking reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, che'nya, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, ortho (platonic), malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I think Riddle is more adaptive than others give him credit for

it's not like there's any rule about not speaking

(and if there was, he would make an exception for you. he's not completely unreasonable)

I can see him learning sign language with you

and if that's not your thing, he'll figure something else out

he's a fast learner, after all

and he wants to make you comfortable, too. not that he'd ever outright admit it...

(obvious favoritism)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Che'nya is always quick on his feet

or... on air?

anyway

that means that he isn't one to let the absence of conversation stop him from his usual mischief

and he does love charades...

it's almost like he can read your thoughts. or your... hands? expressions?

whenever someone is giving you a hard time, they miiight just end up talking back to a floating head

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona actually never really... brings it up

before he had the full story, he just figured you were shy around him

(which went straight to his head, of course)

so he was already used to it when he found out it's not something you can control

and... he treats you no different for it

he knows you're not stupid or rude just because you're not yapping all the time

and if anyone else gave you a hard time about it... they'd be answering to him

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no worries with Azul

I mean, the guy can really do it all

sign language, pen and paper, text-to-speech, body language...

he's rather adaptable, and, trust me, being unable or unwilling to speak won't stop him

the offer to give you the voice of a beautiful singer is still on the table... but he can't blame you for not taking the deal

of course

in the meantime, you can come to him for anything and he'll help you out

on the house <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim's heart is in the right place

is he disappointed you won't be able to talk and sing and cheer with him? a little

you're used to the disappointment, unfortunately

but he doesn't give up so easily

or... at all

no singing? he's handing you an instrument

no talking? no problem, he knows you're still listening!

no hummin, shouting, cheering? he can make enough noise for the both of you

he makes sure you're included in everything

very sweet

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has high expectations, but he isn't unreasonable

if you can't talk, you can't talk, and that's final

that doesn't excuse you from everything else in his strict regimen, though

what may be a weakness to others is a strength to him

you can improve yourself tenfold by focusing on what you can do rather than what you can't

writing, dancing, music...

however you choose to express yourself, he's very supportive

much like Kalim, he includes you in every conversation, every decision, every yes/no question

he's pretty great

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Neige! Neige is a sweetie

I like to think of Neige as someone who's actually quite timid in person, despite his career

it's probably your quietness that draws him to you in the first place

he is so very supportive

he's the kind of introvert to suddenly become extroverted when someone needs help

"excuse me, they asked for no pickles" type of guy

he'll hold your hand through everything if you need it, and remain by your side if you don't

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho and Idia are probably the best people to have on your side

Idia just feels so much more... comfortable around you, since he struggles with speaking, himself

he'll let you use his tablet if you need it to speak

...and then he'll get you one of your own, so he doesn't have a heart attack when you accidentally switch tabs

he'll even program a custom voice or two for you

Ortho is a walking translator for you

with a database full of information on body language and expression, he can determine your emotional state in a single glance

he's happy to help in any way he can, of course!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

at some point, Malleus needs a shirt that says "#1 Prefect Defender"

you haven't said a single word to him but if anything happened to you he would curse everyone in this room and then himself

(he means well, I promise)

he's never minded, nor questioned your silence

certain fae communicate through lights or movement rather than sound, so it isn't even anything strange to him

you fit right in at Diasomnia

and you're welcome to stay here for as long as you please

(hint hint)

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

Pic credit: @cupcakeinat0r

Warning: Rough sex, overstimulation, dumbification-ish?, name-calling, breeding kink

It started with you making your way to Miguel's office to drop off your mission report and some food from the cafeteria since you were certain he hadn't eaten today. Just before you reached the door, Lyla appeared in front of you. "Hey girly. You here for the boss?" She asked. "Yeah Lyla, I know he probably hasn't come out for food today. Plus I need to drop off my report." You answered. Lyla gave you a sheepish look. "Ummm just be careful...or maybe come back later? It might be better. He's not doing so hot. It's uh...his time of the month?"

You paused at first. You were so busy taking care of anomalies you forgot to check the calendar. Miguel's spider DNA gave him a mating cycle. The first time had taken you by surprise and your muscles ached for 2 weeks. Since then you'd been careful to time it properly and stretch but saving the multiverse from sudden collapse was becoming more and more difficult lately. You totally forgot about Miguel's "heat".

"Oh...um..maybe I'll still go check on him. Just so I can make sure he doesn't hurt himself." You reasoned to her. Lyla shrugged. "If you say so. Don't say I didn't warn you though, girly." You smiled and waved her away playfully as the door slid open in front of you. Miguel's office felt unusually cold, like he had turned the AC on full blast plus some. You didn't even have a chance to speak before hearing Miguel's voice shouting. "LYLA I told you not to let anyone in here!"

Your spider sense pinged just as you saw one of Miguel's huge monitors flying towards you. "Miguel! What the hell, it's me!" You shouted, catching the monitor before it took you out. The force of it did send you back a couple inches but you were otherwise unharmed. You swung up to his platform and set the monitor gently on the floor. "Oh...I-I'm sorry, hermosa. I didn't know it was you." He apologized. He was hunched over in his chair, his large frame curled almost into a ball. He didn't even look up at you but you could see him tense up as you neared him. "You shouldn't be here, querida. It's not safe. I don't wanna hurt you."

You put your hand on his back and Miguel bristled like a cat. "Amor, estoy serio! If you don't leave, I don't think I'll be able to control myself." He warned, his tone was harsh but also pleading. You stood firm. "I'm not afraid of you, Miguel. And I'm not fragile either. You know I can handle it. It'll hurt you more if you don't." You placed your hands on his shoulders and started to massage his muscles when he shot up from his chair and whirled around to face you. "You don't know what you're asking for this time, querida. I tried to take a suppressor and..it didn't work! It only made it worse." He growled. You could finally take in the sight of him fully as he towered above you. His hair was disheveled and sweaty, his normally maroon-colored eyes were a blazing, almost glowing, red. He was breathing heavily and his hands were clenched in tight fists like he was using every ounce of strength to keep them to himself.

You raised your hand to his face, concerned, but Miguel caught your hand in his tightly. "Miguel-" "Why do you insist on torturing me, amor? Don't you understand that the closer you get to me, the more I'm having to restrain myself?!" He pulled you to him and pressed his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply. "Dios mio...you smell so sweet, princesa. I bet you taste even better." He growled against your skin. Arousal coursed through you as you felt his hard length press against you. "Miguel...I can take it.." You spoke, trying to reassure him, your voice barely making it above a whisper. He leaned close to you, gripping you by your jaw. "I won't be gentle, hermosa. I can't." He rasped. You nodded and gasped as he began to grind his hips against you. One hand ran up the back of your neck and tangled in your hair. Grabbing a fistful of it, Miguel yanked your head back and latched his mouth to your neck. You cried out as his fangs sunk into your skin, marking you as his. He sucked on your neck before pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His other hand ran down your body, squeezing and groping your flesh as he went. He stopped just under your bellybutton and gripped a fistful of your suit. Your eyes widened as you felt a tug and heard the rip of the material.

You pushed on his chest, trying to protest his destruction of your suit but he grabbed your wrist, pinning it behind you, and smothering your noises with his kiss. Breathing heavily, he released you long enough to growl out "I'll make you another suit, querida" before shredding the material on your chest, freeing your breasts. He wasted zero time sucking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth before rolling the other one between his fingers. You let your head roll back and threaded your fingers through Miguel's hair. His warm tongue flicked across your nipple, making you whimper in pleasure.

Miguel stood up straight and pushed you back against the table. Turning your body away from him, he got on his knees behind you. "Bend over for me, princesa. Let me taste you." He demanded. You bent over the table, your ass and dripping pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel groaned as he massaged your ass. "Fuck, you're so wet already, amor. You're driving me crazy."

You choked out a loud moan as Miguel shoved his tongue inside you without warning. His hands dug into the meat of your ass as he wiggled it against his face. "Oh f-fuck, Miguel! Your mouth feels so good!" You whined. Miguel hummed as he sucked on your clit and flicked his tongue over your wet hole. Two of his large fingers replaced his tongue inside you and began pumping inside you fast and hard. Your legs were already beginning to shake and you knew Miguel wouldn't have mercy on you just yet. You felt yourself coming undone as he ate you like an ice cream. You couldn't help but rock back against his face, crying out his name as you came on his tongue.

Laughing quietly to himself, he stood and wiped his face before cleaning off his fingers one by one, savoring your taste. He went back to rubbing your clit in circles as he positioned himself behind you. He pushed on your back until you were completely flush against the table. You heard his suit turn off and squirmed against him in anticipation.

A loud scream was pulled from your throat as Miguel fully sheathed himself inside you. Giving you absolutely no time to adjust, he began fucking you at such a rough pace, the monitors began to shake from the force of his thrusts. "Ay carajo, bebita...you're so fucking tight....gonna fill this pussy up so good, querida. You're gonna make such a beautiful mama." Miguel moaned. You couldn't form any words. Every ounce of your strength was going to keeping yourself upright. You gripped the edge of the table and held on for dear life. You could see your face reflected in the monitor in front of you, the orange lights illuminating your fucked out expression. Your lips were slightly puffy from Miguel sucking on them and your eyes were half open. Miguel noticed you looking into your reflection and smirked.

"You like watching me fuck you, amor? You do make such a beautiful sight. You can barely keep your eyes open, can you? Do I make you feel that good, baby? Answer me."

"Y-yes, Miguel you- ohmygod- you make me feel amazing. You're so deep inside me...fuck, you're gonna make me cum soon!" You cried. Miguel laughed darkly. "Oh you're gonna cum a few times for me, cariño. As many times as it takes." He growled. Hooking his arm under your knee, he lifted one of your legs onto the table, angling himself so he could fuck deeper into you. His pace sped up and the feeling of his cock so deep inside you had you screaming. The monitors not attached to the ceiling toppled over and crashed to the floor of the platform but Miguel kept his pace as if he didn't even hear them. You didn't even have time to announce it before your orgasm hit you, soaking Miguel's cock and stomach with your wetness. Still his pace did not slow. If anything, it spurred him on even more. "Así baby, cum all over me, princesa. Fuck you're such a good girl for me.." Miguel groaned in approval.

Grabbing your hair, Miguel pulled your head back and pressed kisses to the side of your face as he continued fucking you. "Que linda...eres tan hermosa, amor." He murmured, his gentle words a stark contrast to the rough movements of his hips. "Tell me you love it, princesa." "Ohhhh I l-love it s'much! S'fucking good!" You slurred, your brain foggy from the overstimulation. You were so blissed out you didn't realize your mouth had been hanging open and drool had fallen from your tongue. Miguel smirked when he noticed. "Oh princesa you're drooling, huh? Am I fucking my baby stupid? This cock too much for my dumb little whore, hm?" All you could do was nod and whimper in response. "Oh pobrecita..." Miguel crooned.

He reached around you and rubbed your clit as he slammed his hips against your ass. Your moans and whimpers grew loud as another orgasm washed over you, your nails clawing at the table.

"M-Miguel please...I c-can't." You sobbed, your legs shaking, dangerously close to giving out. Miguel bent over you and nibbled gently on your ear lobe. "What happened to 'I can take it, Miguel. I'm not fragile, Miguel'?" He taunted. You let out another sob of pleasure as he lifted your leg back onto the table and smacked your ass before gripping it tightly. "Don't worry, princesa. Gonna fill that pussy up soon, gonna put a baby in you and make you a mama. Fuck, amor, you're gonna look so beautiful all swollen with my babies. Gotta fuck it into you deep, baby." He moaned. Your eyes rolled back in your head at his words. "Fuck yes, cum inside me Miguel. Please fill me up! I need it!" You begged. Miguel cursed and gripped your hips hard enough that surely bruises would be there later. Sweat dripped from his hair and a thin sheen of sweat made his chest glisten.

He pounded into you hard, chasing his release. Your screams of pleasure filled his ears and soon he was seeing stars as his release finally hit. His whole body shuddered as he emptied his load inside you, coating your walls in his warm, sticky cum. With a loud grunt, he pressed his hips flush against your ass, making sure he was totally spent before pulling back out of you. Your legs gave out completely and you collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. Miguel quickly joined you, pulling your trembling body against his sweaty chest. Panting against your skin, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and brushed your hair away from your face. His actions were gentle but as he kissed your cheek, he murmured in your ear.

"Get your rest now, amor. I'm not even close to done with you."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Introductions II

Patri Guijarro x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You meet Patri

"Relax," Talia whispers," It's going to be okay."

Her words did nothing to quell your anxiety, leg still bouncing as you sit in a hole in the wall café at the very back.

It's the first time you're meeting Patri, Talia's older cousin. She used to play with Alexia and your Tia Tana but you've never actually met her before. You've had her shirts too. You've just never seen her in person.

You wouldn't normally be this nervous but this is Talia's cousin, her absolute favourite cousin who might as well be her sister. When Talia's parents moved from Mallorca with her, Patri came over frequently.

Talia had grown up with Patri. Patri was important her.

You need to make a good impression, hence why you're so anxious about it.

Patri was important to Talia and Talia was important to you.

"Okay," You say, releasing a long breath as you reach for Talia's hand.

She squeezes yours in her own, bringing it up to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

You smile at her, a little awkwardly but still grateful for her comfort.

"Patri's not scary," Talia assures you," She's just Patri."

Strangely, that doesn't fill you with much hope.

Patri Guijarro, even retired as she is, looks fairly scary as she steps into the café. She catches sight of Natalia quickly, who stands up to greet her with a hug.

You stand, wiping the sweat off your hands. "Hola," You say. You offer her your hand to shake.

Patri takes it and you give her a firm handshake like how your Momma always taught you.

Patri watches you, eyes narrowing briefly before she releases you and glances at Talia. "Strong hands," She comments, giving your girlfriend a meaningful look that you don't quite understand. She looks back at you again.

"So," Patri says," I heard that you speak a lot of languages."

"I do."

"Can you teach me your favourite swear words?"

The ice successfully breaks after that and you relax into the simple flow of conversation between the three of you.

Now that she's up close, you can see the similarities between Patri and your girlfriend. They've got the same kind of features with slight differences. They're very clearly related though from the way their eyes spark to the way they gesture as they speak to the exact same way they push their hair out of their faces.

It's sweet and you can't help but smile as Talia tries to shove a cupcake down Patri's throat, who was just in the middle of telling a story about something embarrassing Natalia did as a small child.

"So," Patri says to you when Talia goes off to the toilet," I suppose this is the part where I tell you that if you hurt her I'll hurt you?"

You freeze suddenly.

That's what you've actually been waiting for. You should have known that this would happen. Credit to Patri though for lulling you into a false sense of security for nearly an hour now.

You throat bobs and you take a small sip of your water.

"Er..." You're not quite sure what to say to that. "If you want?"

Patri looks very stern now and she leans over to the table to you.

Her mouth opens.

Her hand comes up...to pat you on the shoulder.

She laughs.

"That was the plan, you know? To scare you into never breaking Nat's heart but you...you're way too sweet for that. I can't imagine you even hurting a fly."

You weren't quite sure if that was a compliment or not. You were going to take it as one though otherwise you weren't sure what you were meant to say to that.

"Thanks?"

Patri grins at you. "No problem. Now, Nat's probably touching up her makeup, do you want to here about the time she got stuck in a bin?"

When Talia returns from the toilet, she comes back to the table to see both you and Patri giggling with each other.

Giggles that turn into full blown laughter when she sits back down.

"What?" She asks," What is it?"

Patri is laughing properly now, wiping tears from her eyes and clutching her stomach as you bite at your lip to stifle your own, going out of your way to not look her in the eye unless you burst into laughter again.

"I'm serious," She says," Have I got something on me?"

"Don't worry, Talia," You reply, reaching out to gently cover her hand with your own," It's nothing."

"It's clearly not nothing!"

Patri snickers. "So long as you think getting stuck in the bin as nothing."

"I told you to stop telling that story!"