#i was so relieved to be done with the last one too
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butlervibesonly · 24 hours ago
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𝐵𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑒 | Austin Burler
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• SUMMARY: Ashley, Austin’s sister, is checking up on her soon to be sister in law, and on her brother too before their wedding, to find out they’re both nervous wreck’s and, well… So made for each other.
• PAIRING: Austin Butler x female reader + Austin’s sister is included 🥰
• WARNINGS: nothing just fluff and most cute nervousness before wedding, maybe typos
“Oh my gosh, Y/n!” you hear Ashley gasp. You're counting down the last minutes until the ceremony. By now, your friends, who helped you with your dress and makeup, also had to get ready, so you were alone in your room. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Y/n!”
You fix some details on your dress, smiling at Ashley who also looks so beautiful in her dress. “Thank you, Ash.” As Ashley comes closer to you, she helps to adjust your veil. “How are you feeling?” she asks, noticing the nervousness in your eyes.
"Honestly?” you sigh. “I feel like my heart is about to jump out of my chest. I’m so nervous. What if... what if something goes wrong? What if I mess up, or he realizes—" Before you can even finish this sentence, Ashley stops you.
"Whoa, slow down. Let me stop you right there. First of all, nothing is going to go wrong, alright? And second you’re marrying my brother and he loves you. Like, completely, unconditionally, can’t-stop-talking-about-you loves you."
You laugh softly and nervously “He does talk a lot, doesn’t he?" Ashley nods while taking your hands in hers. "Oh, trust me, nonstop. He’s been like this since the day he met you. You should hear him when you’re not around. You’re his world, Y/n. And I’ve never seen him so happy."
Ashley’s words make your eyes filled with tears. You can’t believe you’re here, few minutes before marrying the man of your dreams forever. “Really?” you smile surprisingly at her.
“I wouldn’t joke about this. You’re everything he ever wanted. And trust me — this day is the day he always dreamed about.” Ashley was like your sister since the day one. She supports you in everything and loves you like you have always been the part of family.
“I just... don’t want to let him down, you know.”
“You won’t. Just be yourself as you are always “, Y/n, and this day will be perfect. You’ve got this, okay? And we all love you not only him!” Her hands are on your shoulders as he is looking into your eyes - with those eyes that are so familiar to Austin’s.
“Woah, thank you... really. You guys are the best thing that could ever happen to me.” you say, relieved. Ashley wraps her arms around you to pull you into a gentle hug as she doesn’t want to ruin your beautiful dress.
“Anytime. You’ll be part of family after all,” you two giggle. “Now, take another deep breath, and you will make my brother the luckiest man alive in any second.” she says and before she leaves, she turns in the door. “But first let me check on him,” she smirks making you laugh.
As Ashley knocks on her brother’s room, walking in she sees Austin adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Knock, knock. How’s the groom doing?” Austin lets out a breath, running a hand through his “Oh, you know... I’m so nervous. Like I have never been.”
Ashley smiles widely, remembering you told her the exact same thing. “Yea, definitely soulmates…” she murmurs, coming closer to help Austin with his tie. “What was that?” Austin asks as he didn’t understand what Ashley said.
“Oh, nothing. Just confirming what I already knew. You two are perfect for each other.” she replies and is done with his tie. Austin sits down on the bed with a deep sight. “I just... I don’t want to mess this up, you know? She’s everything to me. What if—“
“Nope. Don’t even go there. Listen to me, you’re not going to mess anything up, okay? You are over the heels about Y/n since the day one, do you know how I know?” Ashley looks at her brother as he furrows his eyebrows, waiting for what she wants to tell him.
“Because you never stop talking about Y/n, Austin. I’ve never seen you happier over anyone else like this. She’s good for you. And more importantly, you’re good for her. She loves you just as much as you love her, maybe even more-.
Austin smiles softly, taking notes of what Ashley says. “So stop worrying. She’s walking down that aisle because she wants to. All you have to do is be there, say 'I do,' and try not to cry much."
“No, no… Absolutely no promises on the crying part.” Austin says, pointing at the emergency tissue in his pocket. Ashley laughs, and as Austin stand up, they both hug,
“Remember, Aus, you’ve got this. You’re her everything, her friend, her partner in crime, her future husband. Now take a deep breath and let’s go make her Mrs. Butler.” Austin nods and as the clocks ticks the time of the ceremony, that is where your future begins. Your future as Mr. and Mrs. Butler.
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gemapples · 3 days ago
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my new year's artwork won't be done until tomorrow, but i at least wanted to make a little post celebrating it before it turns! see you in 2025 ❤️
going into a personal ramble about my year under the cut. im mostly just talking to the void but feel free to read if you want!
this year has been. wow. if i had to put the definition of an emotional rollercoaster it would be this year for me
so much happened, yet so much DIDN'T happen simultaneously?? i don't really know how to think tbh 😭 i think above all i'm relieved it's over and i get to (hopefully) have a fresh start again
i got a lot accomplished this year. i graduated and got a degree which is a huge thing!!! i went for and accomplished lot of difficult things i had to do that i wouldn't even think about considering last year, and i feel my mental health has been beyond improved from it. last year i took note of how i consistently put myself in a box to make others happy, and i noticed i significantly improved in regards to how i see myself and made sure to put my own health first. there's still MUCH more to work on, god, and i've still been struggling with it, but i've been taking steps and that's all that matters to me. i want to continue taking better care of myself next year
on the downside though.. a bunch of personal stuff i had no control over happened in july and to put it in a way, i was scared for my life. it's settled now, and even got better, but i haven't been that terrified in a very long time. it was so difficult for me to cope with and i'm very grateful it's not something to worry about anymore, but i would be lying if i said i wasn't scared for what horrific event next year will bring for me. i noticed the past few years, something awful happened that made me seriously question, doubt or even straight up hating myself :') and i'm not looking forward to experiencing that again next year in the slightest. but at least, i'll try to get better at it
i've felt pretty disappointed and unhappy with my art this year as well, for whatever reason. it was mentioned to me that it could just be burnout (i HAVE been drawing more consistently than i ever have throughout this year, especially due to college, which makes sense) but whatever i try to do experimental-wise, i just can't be happy with it. i think the major reason is the way i've been shading, because i might be instinctively holding myself back. i don't want my art to be too eyestrainy or give people headaches by looking at it obviously, but i feel like as a result i've been making my art feel too "muddy" for my liking. so! i decided one of my new years resolutions will be to be way more spontaneous with the way i use colors and try not to put that box on myself. one thing i can say is, i tried a Lot of new things with art this year, including working on complex backgrounds, putting in way more effort into pieces enough to be full illustrations, etc etc. and i hope to break a ton more boundaries next year too. regardless, i can't thank you enough for your continued support. it seriously means a ton to me. i know i repeat myself a lot but i always mean it
hopefully 2025 will bring us more kirby too! we haven't had a full year without a new kirby game since 2021, and even then forgotten land got revealed! so i get the feeling something HUGE is coming. also looking forward to pokemon legends z-a too (im insane over it). and the hypothetical manager magolor plush. <- copium.
thanks for reading, and i hope 2025 is a fun, enjoyable year. hopefully it'll be nice to us
~ mac ❤️
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stxrslutrestored · 1 day ago
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OVERWHELMED
pairing; john b x angel reader
summary; you’ve been feeling overwhelmed all week, and it all shows itself when john b comes back from one of his missions
content; fluff
authors note; none
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you have been worked to the bone all week, with john b gone on one of his missions, you’ve been all alone. from dealing with work to simply managing the house by yourself, you’re overwhelmed and exhausted. 
that’s why tonight should be relieving, john b is back, you have your first meal together in days, first in person interaction in days. but still, you just can’t shake that overwhelm. 
you don’t want to burden john b with that though, surely he’s just as exhausted as you, if not more, he’s been out searching for gold, fighting villains. 
your mission today is to relax him. not you, you are absolutely fine. 
you’ve pulled out all the stops, you made a meal and made the bed and cleaned the whole chateau to make it spotless. 
john b loved it of course, it was a lovely evening in principle, you would enjoy it if you didn’t feel like you’re going to explode. 
right now you’re straddling his lap on the couch, grinding on him as he undoes his pants. you’re both moaning and panting, except you’re only really pretending to, this is all for him anyways. 
he grunts, “missed you so much baby,” he speaks into your ear, “missed you so much.” his hands come up to undo the zip on your dress and pull it down and off your body. 
you force a smile, “missed you too john b.” you lean forward to kiss him, locking lips so as to distract yourself from the tears that are just about threatening to fall. 
his hands grip your hips and then soon he’s sliding his dick into you, beginning to love after a second or two. it should feel good, it should feel so good but the extra sensation is just pushing you over the edge. 
you only last a minute or so before seal of your lips is broken due to your bursting into tears. you just can’t hold it anymore, you have to start sobbing otherwise you don’t know what will happen. 
john b immediately pulls away, “woah- hey.. hey what’s happenin’ baby?” he stops all his movements, hand coming up to cup your cheek and make you face him. 
you sniffle, still sobbing unevenly, “I’m— I’m sorry john b,” you cry, making to bury your face in his bare chest, it’s warm against the skin of your cheek. 
he coos, stroking your hair, “hey… hey don’t be sorry. just tell me what’s makin’ you cry all of a sudden.” he looks down, concern etched in his features. 
“just,” you sniffle, “just so.. so overwhelmed… been doin’ so much all week and just.. need.. need to..” you can’t even finish your sentence as your fit of tears continues. 
john b nods, “just need to have a little cry? let it all out?” he murmurs, asking if that was the end of your sentence. you nod. 
he hums, “okay, you do that.” he rubs your back and starts to move. he pulls his dick out of you, already flaccid due to the diffused situation. 
he dressed himself from the waist down again, and then grabs a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, he pulls you close once more. 
you sniffle, letting yourself feel comfort from his warm presence. eventually you calm down, breath still shaky, tears still falling. 
he tilts your head up to check on you, “all done?” he asks gently, stroking your cheek and wiping the tears away with his thumb. you sniffle but nod nonetheless. he hums approvingly, “good. now here’s what we’re gonna do.” he adjusts his grip on you, sitting up a little, “we’re gonna get up, you’re gonna have a snack, drink some water, and then we are going to cuddle up and watch one of those softie pink lookin’ movies that I hate. okay?” 
you look down, still sniffling sadly, but you nod. he doesn’t accept that response though, he squeezes you a little, “I said okay? c’mon, I see that smile.” he pokes your cheek. 
you let a little curve take your lips, “okay,” you murmur. and just like that, john b has saved the day, again.
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the morning after • spencer reid x reader
quick little drabble! all fluff and mentions of drinking :)
happy new year! you wake up with a pounding headache and nausea like you’ve never felt before. panic sets in as you realize you’re incredibly hungover and very possibly made a fool of yourself in front of all of your co-workers at the bau.
however, one of those co-workers has made it into your bed this morning. you’ve had a crush on spencer reid, but you were never able to fully understand him. until last night, where your memories start to get fuzzy from the drinks you and garcia kept convincing morgan to buy you guys.
you know you were sitting beside reid, and knowing drunk you, you definitely leaned on him quite a bit. and maybe held his hand. and maybe kissed him while you guys went up to the bar for another shot. you wouldn’t have done it sober, and you know that reid wouldn’t have either. after that last shot the night goes blurry until it’s time to get home. thankfully spence is taking a cab home with you.
you remember getting home and kissing spence until he gently tilted your head and whispered, “uh as much as i would really love to do this, i think you’re a little more intoxicated than i am.”
“i guess you’re just intoxicating dr. reid” you slur. you watch him smirk and kiss your forehead, you’re glad he finds your drunken flirting so endearing.
he helps you take off your makeup and gets you into bed. you pass out near immediately snuggled against him and are almost convinced you’ve just been dreaming this.
so when the morning hangxiety hits you can’t help but lightly tap spencer to fill in the blanks of the night.
“good morning” he says incredibly groggy, “i hope you’re not too hungover.”
“i’m incredibly hungover sadly. but thanks for getting me home last night. i’m sorry if i acted completely insane, i don’t usually get drunk like that.”
“it’s okay. you’re quite cute when you’re drunk. alcohol usually impairs judgement and brings out aggression in people, however you just got incredibly talkative and affectionate. so i won’t remember your secrets or take all your cuddling on me personally if that’s what you’re worried about.”
you’re relieved but also scared at how oblivious reid is. a one night stand is one thing, but a one night stand with no sex and just professions of your admiration for him? how is he not getting the hint.
you look at him and smile, “normally i’d say forget it all, but i have absolutely no regrets about last night. subtract a few of the tequila shots and i’d do it all again.”
you love seeing him flustered by your words.
“y’know uh. i wanted to make sure you were sober before we did anything more, so if you’re still interested i have my entire morning free.”
he can barely finish his sentence before you grab him and kiss him. you two didn’t leave the bed all morning. or afternoon.
a/n: i’ve been gaining notes and followers so i may do an introduction! this one is very based on my own new years of getting drunk and hooking up with someone at a party 😵‍💫 if only i woke up to spencer reid and not a hangover and the immense regrets of being embarrassingly drunk at a party </3
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krscblw · 1 year ago
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apparently i am now incapable of drawing anything without making it a series. in other news, i have some sleep token drawings that i'm probably going to start posting tomorrow!
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absolute creature
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gouinisme · 1 year ago
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last 2 journals + next 1
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#they're all pretty different styles i like that#been trying to have more fun with my journals#wait nvm i did have a journal between the eye one and the sticker one but it was completely uncustomized and didn't last long#so we'll ignore that#i also fully didn't journal for like 2 weeks bc i had done the sketch for my new journal but didn't feel like painting it#and i didnt wanna write in a black plain journal again#that feels too functional and not.. like.. it doesnt encourage me to get creative with it#anyways#turns out i had some metallic pens hiding somewhere so i used that#been feeling in a wolfy mood#i'm sad with how scuffed the stickers on my previous journal#which extra sucks cuz the letters are from bumper stickers what do you mean they're the least durable stickers i had#but oh well they were free anyways. and it kinda looks cool gives it a more well worn feel#makes the three ish months i spent carrying it around with me everywhere visible so that's nice#i really like my journals i like journaling so much#like my journals are not aesthetic whatsoever they're very practical and chaotic but i like that about them#i feel like journaling like. placebo relieves the pressure in my brain#i do not have an internal monologue i have an internal cacophony it's like a fucking assemblée générale in there#so writing it all down is very soothing to my brain and painful to my wrists#it just feels like writing is the only time my thoughts can be interpreted and even if they're going in a thousand directions they're still#easier to follow than just. thinking#and then i can surround my thoughts with doodles and receipts and shit#or a strand of my own hair#that is something that is actually in one of the journals pictured abov#anyways why am i ranting down here i've got a new journal to fill#you know what i'm tagging this#journaling#cuz i think my journals are cute and ppl should see them i'm really proud of them#even though a lot of this is stickers i still feel like it looks real cute#doodles
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atrwriting · 4 months ago
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shouldn’t have — lumberjack!logan x fem!reader
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listen usually i would hate this plotline but like ?? are yall seeing what im seeing ?? feminism exists and is alive and well until we see this man and suddenly we’re all damsels in distress
as always, warnings: reader was in an abusive relationship, logan the savior (i have issues ok), dom logan, bratty reader, choking, slapping, rough p in v sex, swearing, breeding kink tee hee
mdni!!!1!!1!1!1!11!
————
you had been with your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — for about three months before you had noticed something was wrong. just a few things, you thought. nothing bad. nothing to worry that much about. it felt like he was doing so many things too much; sleeping, drinking, smoking, video games… yelling…
you thought by getting him a job with some men you knew would be fine — that it would solve every problem. why would it not have? he just needs a job, you thought. just something to get him up in the morning… something to give him purpose…
you were wrong — oh, you were so wrong.
at first, everything was fine — up every day, home every night, and only so many hours at the end of the day could be dedicated to all of those bad little habits you hated so, so much. he was drinking, smoking, playing video games so much less — you almost forgot why you were so annoyed and insistent on this new job in the first place.
...until he stopped coming home before midnight.
...until the yelling got worse.
until he got worse.
you almost left him — almost. until, one night — he asked if you could pick him up from the bar after work so he wouldn’t have to wait before he could drive home. you could've squealed you were so relieved, so happy. it seemed like a step in the right direction, and you were hopeful. you thought the kinks were working themselves out, making it so you could finally work out your issues with him. like the good girlfriend you were, you drove to the bar promptly for half past ten and waited in the parking lot for him.
after a few minutes, you sent a text.
a set of ten minutes had passed as you sat there, waiting.
...then another.
...and then another.
you called him, but there was no answer.
no fucking answer.
you ground your teeth when the call was sent to voicemail. voicemail? fucking voicemail? you stared down at the screen like it mocked you — showing you the reflection of your face in the glass like you were some joke, and embarrassment flooded through you.
all you could think about was self-respect — how if you didn't have any respect for yourself, how could your boyfriend respect you? how could anyone respect you?
it brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away.
and there went the last straw…
you got out of the car and slammed the door. you were buzzing with anger, shivering like you were cold. anger filled you, but adrenaline was what carried you on its back through the doors of the bar and past its threshold. it was the only friend you had in that moment, and you grasped at its hand — letting it lead you to your doom.
what you didn't expect what form your doom would take.
…your doom came in the form of a hot blonde with legs and cleavage for days.
she laid horizontal across the bar — shot glass in her belly button, line of salt up her abdomen. you watched a man, dirty from the work day, eye the blonde with hunger in his eyes. he wrapped his dry lips around the rim of the shot glass, and threw his head back. almost immediately, he licked the salt trail with a flat, heavy tongue. the blonde above him giggled at the texture of his tongue on her tanned skin — and once he was done, she grasped both sides of his face and pulled him towards her.
that’s when you saw the guy’s face — smiling and drunk — your boyfriend’s face. men around them hollered as he pushed her against the bar top, kissing her hard. all you could do was stare — adrenaline left you high and dry when you needed it most. you were just cold now — cold, lonely, and embarrassed. so embarrassed. so fucking embarrassed.
“you’re his ol’ lady… aren’t you?”
your head cocked to a stool near you, occupied by one of his coworkers. he had a cigar in his mouth as he cocked an eyebrow at you, barely looking at you. his hand was around two fingers of whisky — and it had never looked so tempting.
“was,” you whispered, politely correcting him and locking eyes with him.
“good,” was all he said before he threw back the rest of his whisky and stood from his chair.
you were still in shock, frozen in place. all you could do was watch as the man pushed through the crowd, and stood in front of your boyfriend. you stared at the man's shoulders — covered by thin flannel that would never stand a chance against the muscles underneath. you gulped as he stood toe to toe with your ex-boyfriend, but the man didn't look half as scared as your ex did.
“you’re fired," was all the man said.
everyone around the man, including the blonde and your boyfriend, went silent. jaws were on the floor — no one knew what to do. what could they do? they weren't expecting this — not when the fun had been going on for so long. the man couldn’t have cared less — he waited for a split moment, awaiting any sort of rebuttal from your ex-boyfriend… and that was when your ex noticed you, staring at him. instead of running to you, begging for forgiveness… he started begging the man that had fired him for his job back.
you scoffed and rolled your eyes. of course.
“not happening, bub,” he spat. “now — i’m going to go buy your ex-girlfriend a drink with your last paycheck. ask your buddies for a loan on the tab with the blonde."
and with that, the man turned on his heel back towards you. when he turned, he didn’t bow his head or look at the floor — he looked straight at you. and for the first time that night, you saw what he really looked like — a man. the man radiated masculinity like he was the poster child for the hard working all-american man. worn jeans, work boots, faded flannel… the works. his body was thick with muscle, and impressive sight that was definitely thanks to his job. the years showed on his face — but in a way that was handsome and reliable. life seemed to have chewed him up and spit him out, but he didn’t look the type to go down without a fight.
with a moment or two, he was in front of you. he sat down on the stool, and patted the one next to him — gesturing to you.
“what’re you having, sweetheart?”
you stared up at him with confusion and surprise in your eyes, but a blush across your cheeks. your mouth fell open, stammering — as if you hadn’t been embarrassed enough tonight. your eyes darted to your ex — the intoxication starting to wear away as realization set in. he lost his job, girlfriend, and ego all in a matter of a moment — and you knew how these things ended.
“i think i should —“
“he won’t bother you,” the man responded, gesturing to the bartender for two more drinks.
you took a cautious step back — eyes on your ex who was talking with his work buddies now, eyeing you and the man. the blonde had been discarded, scoffing as she found herself in a similar position as you — chewed up and spit out, but not willing to fight.
you were fumbling for your keys now, anxiety beginning to take over. you were shaking as you took several steps back, not knowing whether to run or start crying was the better answer.
the man who had stood up for you then stood, sighing. he saw your ex walking towards you now, and he rolled his eyes in the way an owner would be annoyed with a dog going back for something they were explicitly told not to. the man drank his whisky, and handed you the other glass.
the man only had a take one step towards your ex before your ex had stopped in his tracks, eyes and mouth wide.
“got all the time in the world, bub,” the man spoke. the man had his fists balled at his sides — and, within an instant, sharp bones almost two feet long had sprung from between his knuckles. the man didn’t wince — but everyone else did. with a cocked head, he then continued, “do you?”
when your ex didn’t move, and the man was satisfied that none of his friends were going to make a move… he turned on his heel and stalked back toward you.
“finish your drink, sweetheart — we’re leaving.”
within five minutes, you had finished your drink before you went outside. there was logan — same bone swords unsheathed, but now stabbing into black tires on a familiar truck. you smiled — now your ex didn’t have a ride home.
“can i give you a lift?” you asked.
few hours later — there you sat with the man, who you now knew as logan. you were on one side of the couch — you curled in the corner on the end, and him in the middle turned towards you. the alcohol was flowing, so you didn’t need a blanket over you to keep warm. now, sat across from logan, both of you appearing to feel the effects of whisky — all you wanted was his warmth.
“good hostess,” he spoke as you refilled his whisky glass.
you blushed. “nothing compared to what you did for me back there — least i can do.”
“i gotta ask —“ he said, taking a sip. “why him?”
you shrugged. “guess i learned the hard way you can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.”
he looked at you then — almost through you. you wondered if he could see the same ghosts in your eyes that you could see in his.
he shook his head then, chuckling — appearing to want to break the heavy air. “you’re too young for talk like that, doll — won’t allow it.”
you returned his laugh, realizing you were happy for the subject change. “not every man is like you, logan — first one i met that would’ve done what you did.”
he set his glass down then, and you were struck with the realization of how broad his chest and shoulders were. how the fabric of the stretched across his muscles. how heavy the scent of whisky, maple, wood, and cigar smoke hung on his clothes. you stopped staring at him to meet his eyes then, but he was already looking at you.
logan caught you staring. a blush rose to your cheeks.
“there was a time where men i knew would’ve killed to be served whisky by a pretty girl like you,” he spoke, voice gruff. “time where i would’ve.”
you smiled, insecure under his gaze. “you’re easy on the eyes, lo — can’t imagine you had to put much effort into getting with someone you wanted.”
“oh, doll —“ he spoke, leaning in towards you. his face was barely inches from you, and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted those big, calloused hands on your soft skin — wanted it so fucking bad — but he wouldn’t put them on you. not yet. not quite yet. “sweet, pretty things like you? worth all of the effort in the fucking world.”
you felt one of his hands — his large fucking hands — slide down from your knee, to the side of your thigh. he squeezed lightly on the flesh, loving the feeling of your soft skin. you met his eyes then, dark and hungry. he wasn’t hesitating — he was waiting for your approval or disapproval. he wanted you to know he wanted you, but also that you had the final say.
“y’gonna let me show you how a real man’s supposed to treat a woman?” he asked, tucking a hair behind your ear. “hmm, sugar? climb in my lap, and i’ll show you.”
curiosity killed the cat, but not before it found out what the secret was.
logan fell back against the couch — man spreading, hands on the tops of his thighs with his eyes on you. only on you. there was no more of the adrenaline from earlier, no — but there was the confidence from the warm, dark liquid flowing through your veins. it gave you the push you needed, making you throw a leg over his hips, and sit your ass down right over the tent in his jeans.
“that’s a girl, yeah…” he spoke, his hands ran up and down your thighs. his eyes were raking up and down your body in the way that your ex had looked at the blonde, and it only added to your confidence. you wanted to be wanted — and logan made you feel more sexy than your ex ever had. “tell me, sweetheart — when you look at me, what do you see?”
“a man,” you respond, before you can stop yourself.
he raises his brow then — surprised, but not displeased at your answer. “ — yeah? and what makes me a man?”
you thought for a second, as the alcohol clouded your ability to be witty. you couldn’t pinpoint why — you just knew. while you were thinking, almost stammering — you felt his hand snack underneath your skirt and find your lacy panties. you were struck with the sudden realization of how badly you wanted to show him what they looked like, convinced he would like them — but he wouldn’t let you take off your skirt. you eyed him, confused.
“not yet, doll,” he spoke, voice hoarse. his eyes never left yours. “not taking off this skirt — no matter how much i want to — until you know for sure that i deserve to.”
“logan…!” you grumbled, throwing your head back in mock laughter and frustration. “y’gonna make me beg? come on —"
“beg? not tonight, darlin’,” he laughed. you felt one of his fingers prod at your folds through your panties, poking through your lips to find the hidden sensitive parts of you. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling — curious and turned on. “but you are gonna tell me everything you’re going to look for in a man from this point on. when i’m satisfied, then i’ll let you cum.”
“didn’t think you liked games,” you breathed, curiosity, pleasure, and anxiety mixing in your blood.
“i don’t,” he said with finality and sincerity. “i teach lessons, sweetheart — and now i’m gonna teach you how a man should treat you."
“yeah?” you breathed, keeping your lips barely centimeters from his. “and how are you going to accomplish that?”
“rock those pretty hips against my hand, baby —“ he spoke, pressing his fingertips against your clothes core. “and tell me types of guys you're goin' to avoid."
you went to question him, confused — but he pulled you right back in. he pressed two finger tips against your panties, creating the most devious fiction against your sensitive bud. you jumped at the feeling, but he kept your hips steady.
“there’s one —“ he chuckled. “didn’t know how to touch you, yeah? so sensitive — ‘s like he never did.”
“he didn’t know how,” you whined, rolling your hips against his fingers and letting your eyes drift close.
“not surprised,” he grunted. “never a good worker either. so, what’re we avoiding next time, sugar, huh? tell me.”
“i don’t know… i don’t…” your mind was warm and fuzzy now, leaving you unable to answer.
he swatted at the flesh of your ass then, causing your hips to jerk and your eyes to open in shock. he looked up at you, unfazed. “you don’t wanna cum, do you? want me to use you just like him — leave that pussy wet and wanting?”
you giggled. “don’t tempt me.”
his hand reached for your throat, an evil smirk on his lips. “you’re a naughty fucking thing.”
you nodded feverishly, loving the grip on your throat. “for you, lo. i’ll avoid lazy men, i promise —“
“you better,” he warned, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his wingers were rubbing hard against your clit, and you wanted him oh, so badly to dip into the fabric and roll around your clit or supple hole. “another — tell me. now.”
“careless,” you whined, your hips jerking. “i’ll avoid careless men, logan, i promise —“
“fuck that,” he spat, the grip tightening on your throat. “you’re mine, darlin’.”
he threw you down onto the couch then, landing on your back with a thud. he gave up on his own game, and your confidence bloomed within you. to be so sweet, so pretty — to make a man like logan stumble? forget what he was doing, all because he wanted you so bad? to be in between your plump thighs, round lips, and encircles in those pretty arms? your cheeks were burning pink as your gaze came back into focus above you. there stood logan, on his knees on the couch, as he unbuttoned his flannel with an animalistic chase in his eyes. you couldn’t help but put yourself on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together to keep the friction and heat up. but your eyes? oh, your perfect, big eyes? they were on logan’s. they told you everything you needed to know as he tore off his belt.
“you want me to use you, baby?” he asked as he unzipped his belt. “that’s what my girl wants?”
“by you, lo — a real man,” you breathed, stroking his cock and lining his cock up with the entrance of your pussy.
“good fucking girl,” he growled, plunging his cock into your pussy.
his hips snapped against yours, causing you to jump into the arm rest. you held onto the arm rest, your pillow, to keep you steady. logan liked the sight — pretending that you had your hands tied up above your head as your breasts lifted with your arched back, preening upwards just for him. he watched the shivers run up and down your spine, causing your nipples to peak. he watched them hungrily as they bounced for him and only him, wanting to pull both into his mouth and show you just how greedy real men are.
and when he saw you release the grip held by one hand, and watched it travel down the length of your abdomen, with the end goal of your clit — he swatted your hand away, angry. his gaze — it screamed how fucking dare you?
“fuck off with that shit —“ he spat, pushing your hand back down to hold onto the head rest. “this first time, darlin’? i make you cum — and you lie there, and you take it.”
you whined at his words, your big beautiful eyes on his hungry irises. you folded your lip in between your teeth before you curled your hips up to meet his, wrapped your legs around his hips. never had you been treated with such confidence, such ease — but you wanted him to work for it, see how far he could go to prove to you that he was the best. “you promise, old man? you can keep up?”
the air went still then — but your smirk didn’t falter. it should've, you would realize later. you should've been afraid of the man, knowing what he was capable of when someone tested him. the difference was... logan welcomed the spice in you, as long as it was his to silence. logan’s eyes went wild and dark then, realizing the challenge. he held back so much with you, trying to keep the man awake and the beast dormant — but the greedy girl in you just kept knocking.
he flipped you then — forcing you onto all fours. he bent you over the arm rest, your throat in the crook of his elbow. his free hand groped and pulled at the flesh of your ass, letting go only to smack it. smacksmacksmack. his tough and calloused skin would leave marks, you were sure of it — but it only made your pussy wetter. the sounds were pornographic, filling the room and his nose and ears.
“wasn’t much of a brat tamer, was he?” he spat, fucking into your puffy pussy. his grip on your throat wasn’t tight, but it kept you in control. there was no moving, and there definitely wasn’t enough air to mouth off. “nothing sweet about you — just a greedy fucking girl with the neediest fucking pussy. i'll get'ya there, doll — don't worry now."
you held onto his forearm for dear life, trying to keep your balance as you arched your back up into him. you felt your juices leak around around your sopping wet cunt and down both of your thighs and logan’s. the air was thick with your scent and sounds, pricking at logan’s heightened hearing. your whines — oh, your whines, your fucking whines! — were filling his ribcage and warming every part of him that wasn’t touching you. his lips were sucking at your neck, nipping at the skin . he felt the vibrations of your moans against his lips and he had to fight every instinct to sink his teeth into your shoulder, ruining you for everyone else.
“please — please —“ you choked, smacking against the arm rest. he pulled your free arm back behind your back, forcing you to take everything he gave you.
“not stopping until that pussy creams, baby,” he spat into your ear. his hips were relentless against yours, plunging in and out of your wet folds as he kept them tight and controlled for his use. “when that dumb fuck comes back, to get his stuff? i want him to know who’s pussy this is now. that fucked out look on your face? yeah? that’s all that sack of shit is gonna see before i slam the door in his face.”
“fuck, logan —“ you whimpered. “i’m so close. f-feels so good. please, don’t stop —“
“i know, baby, i know….” he moaned. you reached underneath him, grabbing at his heavy sack and rolling his balls with your finger tips. he jumped at the feeling, curious how a fucked out little thing like you still had so much energy to tease. “never ends with you, huh, does it? always wan’ more?”
“cum with me, lo —“ you choked out. “come on — make me feel it.”
he smacked your ass once more, grasping onto the rippling skin. you could feel your tight muscles, like cement — knowing they would be sore in the morning. you rolled his balls in between your fingers, keeping as controlling of a grip on him as he kept on you. his breaths were ragged against your neck, broken and feverish. your eyes were screwed shut, trying to find his lips in the darkness as you fought with and against logan.
“fill my pussy, baby,” you whined, reaching to any part of him you could grab.
when he saw your eyes, most of the begging in them rather than your tone — he couldn't help it. it took over him before he could even realize it was happening. how could he deny you so,ething you wanted so badly? asked for so sweetly? logan came before you did — much to his dismay, but only for a moment. he felt his skin shiver before his hips snapped forward once to meet yours, trapping you against the arm rest. he rutted into you as the walls of your pussy were coated — dressed in his seed, his spend, his claim. you could hear a growl rumble low in his chest, tearing up at the sound of such a big and strong man at his most vulnerable, his most peaceful state — only for you.
when you reached for your clit again — whining and wanting, ready to take advantage of hearing his satisfied moans in your ear — he smacked your hand away. you scoffed at his movement, but he shut you up quickly. his own fingers found the spot, and his fingers felt better than yours. you should’ve known they would, with the way they attacked you through your panties.
“pussy’s filled to the brim, sugar —“ he grunted. “now i wanna feel it shake while you’re full of me.”
he was so tired, but not his muscles — definitely not his muscles, nor his grip. it held you tight and upright — forcing you to take it in your weak, fucked out state.
“you want me to fuck my cum farther into you, darlin’?” he rasped, fighting his exhaustion through gritted teeth. “i’m too deep, aren’t i? i’ll fuck my cum into your womb if i’m not careful… but you'd like that, wouldn't you? dirty little thing..."
his warning was a threat, but your mind was too soft to realize. too pliant, too ready for him. all you could do was stare off into space as he held you close to him. his fingers spun circles around your puffy clit, his still hard cock piercing into you. “so very deep, lo…”
and when he smacked your clit once before continuing the assault, you came. you came harder than you ever had before — alone, or imagining something in your head as someone else fucked you. it was like your primal nature was being ripped from you, wanting to show and present itself to match logan’s — to show logan you were his match, that you were his equal. you bucked your hips back to meet his, letting the tip of his sensitive cock graze your sensitive walls as you screamed his name. it filled the room more than anything had for him — and it was all he would think about in the days to come. this woman, so worthy and so ready for him — only for him, and all for him.
“that’s it, sweetheart. work for it, that’s right…”
and as his seed slipped into your womb, open and ready for him as you came, you felt his lips press hard, sloppy kisses against your jaw. your own mouth was open, cries falling from it.
“my good girl learned her lesson, didn’t she?” he rasped. “don’t matter now, anyway — no one but me is gonna be in your bed. i'll burn his shit later."
———
i need to touch grass - L xoxo lmk what u think
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inbabylontheywept · 4 months ago
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she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 
after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.
(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)
anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 
now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 
so i said hey. 
and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 
and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.
i’m always okay. 
and she said: i’m really sorry. 
i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.
and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 
so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 
crunch. 
air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 
i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.
i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 
then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 
her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 
(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)
and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?
and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  
and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said
stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.
and then he left.  
i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.
then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.
he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.
then we left.
i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:
brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.
and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.
---
the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 
and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 
i’m going to remember you.
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neferaskingdom · 19 days ago
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♡ You're Doing Amazing Sweetie | MV1
NEFERASKINGDOM
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Summary: George finds out and the only thing Y/n can do is hide and pray that George doesn't take out Max on track.
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Y/n paces anxiously near the monitors while Charles and Lando loiter as if they had all the time in the world. Charles had his arms crossed, his race suit tied around his waist, and Lando was demolishing a plate of snacks meant for the Ferrari engineers. Y/n had been hiding out in the Ferrari garage since the paddock opened to avoid crossing paths with George.
“Okay, tell me the truth—how screwed am I?” Y/n asks, whipping around to face them.
“Oh, monumentally,” Lando replies through a mouthful of cookie. “Like Titanic levels. Possibly Pompeii.”
Charles nods along solemnly. “Also George is definitely plotting something. He walked by earlier muttering to himself like a Bond villain.”
“Fuck” Y/n groans pacing faster.
“You do realize hiding here makes you look guiltier, right?” Lando says, biting into another cookie
Y/n glares at him. “What do you want me to do? Parade around the paddock with a sign that says ‘Yes George, I am the mother of Max Verstappen’s future spawn’?!”
Charles snorts so hard that his espresso nearly spills. “Please don’t. George would spontaneously combust.”
“Plus technically speaking this is your fault,” Lando says, jabbing a finger at her.
She raises an eyebrow. “My fault? I’m not the one who told the entire world, ‘If it weren’t for the baby.’”
“That part was clearly Max’s fault,” Lando interjects, not looking up from his plate. “But this whole ‘let’s date secretly’ thing? Yeah, I’m blaming you for that one.”
“Excuse me?” Y/n shoots back.
“Don’t get defensive,” Charles says, holding his hands up. “But we told you this would end in disaster. And now? Look at you. Hiding in my garage like some kind of fugitive because George looks like he’s ready to blow up Redbull’s hospitality. You should have told George the second you two realized your relationship was serious.”
Y/n groans, tugging at her hair. “What’s done is done and I can’t change that now can I? And I’m here because I obviously can’t stay at the Mercedes garage if I want to avoid my brother and staying at Redbull is a deathwish. Imagine what’ll happen if he catches us both in the same place. I just hope George doesn't do anything stupid in public”
“Why do you think we’re here?” Lando says, grinning as he gestures to himself and Charles. “We’re like the UN Peacekeepers of the paddock. We’ll keep them both separate and make sure nothing happens today.”
“Like that's very reassuring,” Y/n mutters.
As the drivers line up for the national anthem, Y/n stays glued to the monitors, trying to keep a low profile. George, however, was impossible to miss.
“Great,” she mutters to herself as the camera pans to him. His jaw was clenched, his expression thunderous. It looked like he was barely holding himself together.
Oscar was hovering near George, subtly blocking him every time he shifted toward Max. Y/n couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Aussie, who looked like he’d accidentally wandered into a battlefield.
From his other side, Lando was casually draping an arm over his shoulder as if trying to calm him down. Instead, it seems to piss off George even more as he tried to shrug him off with a sharp glare, but Lando remained latched on.
“Please let this be over,” Y/n pleads at the screen.
The tension only escalated as the drivers headed to their cars. George made one last attempt to corner Max, and Y/n’s heart leaped into her throat.
“Oh no. Oh no. Don’t do it,” she whispered at the screen.
Oscar, ever the unwilling mediator, once again intercepted George, his hands up in a placating gesture. Y/n let out a relieved breath as George backed off, though he still looked furious.
She slumped back into her seat, her nerves frayed.
“Just one race,” she muttered to herself. “One race without drama. Is that too much to ask for?”
The drivers climbed into their cars, and the screen cut to the grid formation. Y/n felt a brief moment of peace, knowing that for the next couple of hours, George and Max would be too busy driving to tear into each other.
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f1teaspill posted:
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f1teaspill: Tensions are at an all-time high after today’s race! George Russell’s post-race interview took a dramatic turn when a journalist brought up Max’s cryptic baby comment and rumors about George’s sister. 😱 After repeatedly trying to dodge the question, George snapped, delivered a firm warning about personal boundaries, and stormed off.
The paddock drama just keeps escalating. Fans spotted George glaring at Max throughout the national anthem, and it seems like Oscar and Lando had to play paddock security to keep the peace. What’s your take on all this chaos? 🍼👀
Post-Race Interview Transcript:
Journalist: George, P5 today—a decent result to round out the season. Can you walk us through how you’re feeling about the race and the team’s performance?
George: (nodding) Yeah, it was a solid race. Not quite the result we hoped for, but the team worked hard all weekend. We gave it our best shot with the car we had. Of course, as a driver, you always want more, but I think we made the most of the opportunities we had out there.
Journalist: Fair enough. And, of course, today marks the end of an era with Lewis Hamilton’s final race for Mercedes. What’s it like to share this moment with him? Any reflections?
George: (pauses, visibly emotional) It’s bittersweet, really. Lewis has been such a huge part of the team and the sport as a whole. He’s not just a teammate but also a mentor and a legend in Formula 1. Sharing the garage with him has been an honor. I think I speak for everyone at Mercedes when I say we’re incredibly grateful for everything he’s brought to the team and wish him all the best for what comes next.
Journalist: Well said. Now, George, I have to shift gears a bit—there’s been a lot of chatter about some off-track tension. During the national anthem, fans couldn’t help but notice you glaring at Max Verstappen. Care to address that?
George: (stiffens, smile faltering) I wasn’t glaring at anyone. I was focused on the race, like I always am. People are reading into things that just aren’t there.
Journalist: Really? Because from the footage, it looked quite... pointed. And after Max’s comments yesterday about making peace with you ‘because of a baby,’ it’s hard not to wonder—
George: (cuts in, voice tight) I don’t see how that’s relevant to today’s race.
Journalist: (pressing) George, fans are speculating nonstop. Is it true? Is your sister having Max Verstappen’s baby?
George: (visibly bristling, voice rising) I think we’ve strayed far enough from the purpose of this interview. This is about Formula 1, about racing—not gossip or baseless rumors.
Journalist: With all due respect, George, Max’s words weren’t exactly cryptic. He was talking about a baby and making amends with you. Surely, you can understand why people are curious.
George: (snaps, voice sharp) Curious or not, it’s none of anyone’s business. This is supposed to be a post-race interview—not a soap opera recap. The media needs to learn where to draw the line. We’re here to race, not have our personal lives dissected under a microscope.
Journalist: But George, the fans—
George: (interrupts sharply) No. Enough. The media needs to maintain boundaries and stop meddling in our personal lives. I’m done here.
(George rips off his team cap, storms away from the interview pen, and disappears into the paddock, leaving the journalist and cameras stunned.)
Comments:
user: George was NOT here for the nonsense today. That ‘draw the line’ speech? ICONIC
user: Honestly, respect to George for standing up for himself. The journalist was pushing way too hard. Let the man race in peace user: Never seen George this mad before 😳 What is going on in the House of Commons???
user: Why do I feel like this confirms the baby news? Like he didn’t deny it, and his reaction was TOO intense
user: Respect to George for standing up to the journalist, but let’s not lie—he 100% confirmed the drama with that reaction. 🍼
user: Okay, but imagine George finding out about the baby at the same time as us 😭
user: George looked like he was going to deck Max during the national anthem. Thank you, Oscar, for literally being a human shield
user: No but why did George look like he was seconds away from body-slamming Max during the anthem? Lando had to literally hold him back 💀
user: Okay, but the real question is… what BABY? Whose baby? Did George even KNOW about this baby before today?!
user: Theory time! 1. Max and Y/n were dating in secret. 2. George didn’t know about the baby and is spiraling. 3. Netflix is eating GOOD
user: Imagine being George and learning about your sister’s alleged baby from Twitter
user: Lewis’ last race with Merc and THIS is what George has to deal with. Poor guy’s gonna need therapy after this season
user: The way everyone’s ignoring this is also Lewis’ last race with Mercedes 💀. George snapped so hard we forgot to be emotional
user: Lando probably whispered something dumb like ‘You’re doing amazing, sweetie’ while George was vibrating with rage
user: F1 isn’t just a sport. It’s a reality TV show with occasional car racing
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Max stood under the glare of the cameras, trying to look composed despite the post-race fatigue gnawing at him. P6 wasn’t what he’d wanted, but at least he’d avoided the chaos brewing elsewhere in the paddock—or so he thought.
“So, the strategy was clearly compromised by the penalty,” the journalist asked, her tone probing. “Do you think there was any way to recover from that?”
Max nodded slightly, his words coming out measured. “Yeah, it was tough. We lost track position early, and once you’re in traffic—”
“Sorry to interrupt.”
The voice was eerily calm, almost polite, but it carried a weight that immediately silenced the conversation. Max turned to see George standing there, his posture casual but his jaw clenched tight.
The journalist blinked, clearly taken aback. “Uh, George? We’re in the middle of—”
“I need a moment with Max,” George cut her off, his tone civil but firm. He glanced at Max’s PR manager with an unnervingly calm smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”
The PR manager hesitated, looking between Max and George. Max let out a quiet sigh, already resigned to whatever was about to unfold. He gave a small nod. “It’s fine. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Before anyone could say another word, George’s hand clamped onto Max’s shoulder. It wasn’t rough, but it left no room for argument.
Max allowed himself to be steered away, his body language slumping slightly as though accepting his fate. George didn’t say a word as he guided Max through the paddock, weaving past mechanics and team personnel. A few glanced their way, their curiosity piqued, but no one dared to intervene.
“Are you going to say something, or are we just walking in ominous silence?” Max finally muttered, keeping his tone light but knowing full well George wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
George didn’t respond, his grip tightening slightly as they turned into a quieter corridor behind the team hospitality units.
“Okay,” Max said with a dry laugh, “this is starting to feel like a bad cop drama.”
George stopped abruptly, spinning Max around and slamming him against the wall. The thud echoed in the empty space, and Max winced slightly but didn’t resist.
“We need to talk,” George said, his voice low and steely, every word laced with barely contained anger.
Max met his gaze, his usual unflappable demeanor faltering under the intensity of George’s glare. For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension, unspoken words hanging heavy in the silence.
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Taglist: @ilovechickenwings @spooky-librarian-ghost @diaryofarandomkid @rd14 @hc-dutch @96mcobo @grussellsprout @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @shelbyteller @diorbrxtz
@henna006 @freyathehuntress @nichmeddar @formulaal @sleutherclaw
@anilovessadbooks @mangotaitai @vtryy @finn-dot-com @sarahsobsession
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loveanddeepthroat · 4 months ago
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can i mc reader and sylus where mc ends up in hospital after a mission gone wrong and sylus shows up but she wants him to leave in case someone sees him there
Careless
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Pairing - Sylus x f!MC
Summary - You landed yourself in the hospital overnight after a mix up at HQ had you fighting too many Wanderer’s alone. You’re already bummed about being stuck at Akso, so the feeling of dread when Sylus turns up unexpectedly only adds to your unease.
Word Count - 2.3k
Warnings - Set in a hospital. Angst and fluff.
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The incessant beeping of medical machinery echoing throughout the ward was getting to your sore head.
Akso Hospital was rammed full of casualties and emergencies, seeing as it was a Friday night. You felt a bit out of place amongst the partygoers and adventurous folk who had taken their fun a little too far.
In your opinion, you didn’t really need to be here. The eggplant coloured bruise on the right side of your forehead definitely looked a lot worse than it felt, but the doctors weren’t buying your claims that you weren’t in any pain.
Likely because you were wincing when you’d said it.
A night under their watch was what the doctor ordered, and it wasn’t up for discussion. You were just relieved that Doctor Zayne was working away for a week. He’d have checked you in indefinitely and scheduled an hour long lecture on why you needed to be more careful.
A mix up at HQ had the system only requesting that you attend a spontaneous Wanderer attack in Linkon Library. Just one had been reported, but seven of the ruthless bastards had accosted you the minute you stepped foot in the evacuated building.
Confident that you could handle them, you didn’t bother calling in for more Hunters. As it turned out, that confidence was misplaced, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was a loud screeching sound. You had no idea what it was, but it hadn’t been important in your unconscious state.
When you eventually awoke in the hospital, Jenna had been hanging over you, immediately giving you the third degree for continuing alone. You should’ve known that the alert for only your assistance had been a mistake in the system, and you should’ve insisted that someone accompany you no matter what it had said.
She made sure to drill that into your head more than once.
Admittedly, you were glad to see the back of her once she had finally left. Your head was starting to throb with the volume of her voice, and all you wanted was the bliss of being unconscious again.
It was late now, and you were exhausted. Sleep was looking to be impossible tonight, however. There were several other patients on the same ward, all admitted with varying ailments. The injured man opposite you had done nothing but stare coldly from the moment he was wheeled in in a full leg cast.
You tried to speak to him. You offered him a polite smile, which was met with a sneer. Whatever his problem with you was, it was beginning to get on your nerves.
You just wanted to go home.
“Miss,” a softly spoken nurse greeted as she approached your bed. “There’s a visitor here to see you.”
You frowned, wondering if you heard her correctly over the hustle and bustle of the ward. It was well past visiting hours, and you couldn’t think of anyone other than your colleagues who knew that you were even at the hospital.
The man with the broken leg frowned, too. “What? She gets special treatment because she’s a so-called hero? I should get visiting rights, too!”
“Would you like me to let him in?” The nurse asked, ignoring the grumbling patient.
Him. That didn’t exactly narrow things down.
“Uhh,” you faltered, a little unsure. You didn’t want to cause any issues with the other patients. “Are you sure?”
The nurse nodded and smiled, though it looked a bit forced. It almost seemed like she was desperate for you to say yes to your mystery visitor.
“Okay,” you finally agreed. 
The look of relief on her face was not lost on you. She quickly hurried away to retrieve whoever came to see you, leaving you to endure the displeasure from the man opposite.
“I used to be a mailman, you know? If it weren’t for me, people wouldn’t have had their mail. Do I get special treatment, though? No, of course not. You Hunters get all the glory and adoration. And I’ll tell you another thing—”
“You’ve told her plenty.”
Prominent footsteps sounded from the doorway, the atmosphere immediately becoming heavy and tense. You almost choked on absolutely nothing at the sight of him.
Sylus.
Your eyes flared, heart hammering against your ribcage like a drum. He couldn’t be here. The risk was far too great.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” the grumpy man sneered back, looking him up and down, “…vampire.”
It was a colourful insult, and one that made your unwelcome companion chuckle. “If you’ll excuse us,” he began, the swirling red vines of his Evol appearing to drag the man’s cubicle curtain to a close at a leisurely pace. “Mailman.”
To your relief, there was no backlash from the irritated patient across the room. Although that did make you wonder if he wasn’t retaliating by his own choice, or if Sylus had silenced him somehow. The latter wouldn’t have surprised you.
“What on earth are you doing here?!” you hissed quietly. “You can’t be here, Sylus.”
Crimson eyes didn’t meet yours, his cold gaze set only on the bandages around your head as he approached your bedside, closing your curtain behind him. He didn’t quite look like himself. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, green and blue veins prominently making an appearance.
“I’ll think twice before taking advice from a woman who was very recently knocked unconscious amidst a 7v1 Wanderer fight,” he rebuked monotonously. 
You scoffed. “I’m fine, if that’s why you came. Feel free to go back to—”
“Fine?” His face quickly turned from emotionless to severely unamused as he cut you off sharply. “That’s quite the contradiction, sweetie.”
You raised an eyebrow barely high enough for him to see your questioning expression. The gesture hurt, which wasn’t helping your case. “To what?”
He dragged a plastic chair towards your bed before sitting down, his ankles crossed in front of him. You couldn’t really read his demeanour. He almost seemed cross with you.
“To what I saw from Mephisto,” he responded tightly.
Mephisto. 
That explained the screeching you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness. “And what exactly was Mephisto doing there?”
Sylus merely shrugged, offering nothing verbal in response. The lackadaisy gesture did nothing but piss you off. You’ve told him countless times to stop sending Mephisto out to keep tabs on you, and each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears. 
He clearly was not pleased with you, but you weren’t stupid. He was here because you had concerned him. Sylus was a busy man, especially at this time of night. He wouldn’t have come just to berate you with words that could’ve been put into a text message.
Not that you knew where your phone was.
The atmosphere between you both fell into silence, only the sounds of medical machinery filling in the lack of conversation. You didn’t really know what to say to him, and he wasn’t typically the type to lose his words. But it was clear to see that he didn’t know what to say, either.
After a long moment, he cleared his throat, his hands flexing in his lap. “I told you those guns of yours were pathetic.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my guns,” you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.
“So it’s a skill issue?”
You glared harshly at him, flinching noticeably as you did. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more, the pain in your head or the mood that Sylus was so clearly in. 
His features softened ever so slightly as he recognised your pain. Still, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole. “It’s one or the other, kitten.”
You felt your cheeks heat up. If there was one thing you didn’t want Sylus to think of you as, it was weak. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but you did.
“I suppose my guns are a little on the outdated side,” you murmured begrudgingly.
He smirked, his hands finally relaxing a little in his lap. The awkward atmosphere was slowly fading, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to pry into his mind and make things worse again.
You buried your head a little further into the pillow beneath your sore head, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment. Fatigue was starting to settle in your body, almost dragging you into a swift sleep before your chilly hand was captured in a warm embrace.
Your eyes shot open again, finding Sylus out of his seat and leaning over you. His eyes were a bit wider than usual. “Have they checked you for a concussion?” 
“Yeah,” you told him gently. The close proximity had you flustered. “I’m a little concussed, but I’m allowed to sleep.”
His brows drew together slightly as he studied you. You’ve both had these strange little moments before, when his mask slips away just enough to see his true feelings.
“I’ll be fine,” you whispered in reassurance. “You should go, Sylus.”
He shook his head, his hand tightening slightly over yours. It looked like an effort, but he managed to smirk at you again. “Trying to get rid of me already?”
Beneath that facade of humour, he was a little bit wounded. You wouldn’t point it out, but you could see it. He was a stubborn bastard who wasn’t going to let you push him away, but he also didn’t like that you were trying to push him away.
It wasn’t as if you wanted him to go. Your relationship with him was…complicated.
Complicated in the sense that you weren’t in a relationship, but he had a habit of establishing a level of intimacy between you both that you weren’t blind to. Good morning and goodnight texts, constant invites to events as his plus one with no other reason than to be beside him, and random gifts left on your doorstep so often that your elderly neighbour recently asked if you were ‘getting some.’
A relationship with him would be very difficult to maintain. You both come from entirely different worlds that just could not merge. No matter how much you desired him, you had to maintain your composure.
“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” you sighed. “I just don’t like how careless you’re being by showing up here. Some people do worry, you know.”
He slowly lowered his loom over you so that his nose was just inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his steady breath on your lips as he spoke. It was intimidating and yet so intimate that you didn’t know whether to cower or cut him off with a kiss you never knew you wanted. 
“You don’t think I’m worried about you?” he drawled in a rather serious manner.
“That’s not what I—”
“Do you not realise how it looked through Mephisto’s eyes when you were walloped a great distance across a library and crumpled to the floor like a lifeless body.” His teeth were gritted in his mouth, the word ‘body’ coming out tightly like his tongue was rejecting the word. “You’re not the only person who is worried here. Do not brand me incapable of such feelings.”
Your mouth went a little dry, tears threatening to invade your eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in his worry, and you hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.
“I just don’t want you to risk your freedom for me,” you whispered shakily.
He lifted his hand from where it was holding him up beside your free hand, carefully moving some strands of your hair that had fallen over your bandages. 
“I’d risk it all for you.”
He had never said such a thing to you in all the time you’d been acquainted. You knew that he would carry out every need you might have of him. You knew that he would listen to you sit and ramble on and on about anything, never interrupting you. You knew that he cared about you.
But you were still in the dark when it came to the extent of that care.
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmured.
Thankfully, you caught yourself before you were about to shake your sore head. “Just…trying to figure you out.”
A smile slowly spread across his lips. A real smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter, embarrassingly made noticeable by the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to.
“It would require a lot of brainpower to do that, sweetie. Maybe lose the concussion first,” he said in his typically sarcastic tone.
You managed your own small smile, which blossomed into a chuckle. This was the side of Sylus that had you coming back to him whenever he asked for your company.
His real side.
He kept his hand atop your head, avoiding the bandages completely. His thumb swiped gently over the parting of your hair, pulling you off to sleep again. You were pretty sure that he was doing it on purpose to force you into rest, but you were in no position to argue with him. You were officially exhausted.
“Would you really like me to leave, kitten?” he asked in a soft whisper as your eyes fluttered.
The very thought of him leaving made you a little upset. Despite your attempts at convincing the doctors you were fine, you damn well were not. You needed his comfort, and he needed to know that you were safe and on the road to a speedy recovery.
“No,” you whispered, succumbing to the soothing strokes on your scalp.
A soft brush of his lips was the last thing you felt before you finally drifted off, feeling secure enough to do so with his company.
“Good,” he’d whispered back before you fully clocked out. “I’ll always be careless so long as I get to you.”
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A/N - Long time no fic post. I apologise, life has been crazy. I haven’t proof read this cause honestly I’m just too tired so I’ll read over it in the morning and edit any mistakes. Hope you’re all doing well! 🖤
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b-lossm · 2 months ago
Text
•+*Dogtooth*+•
Vi x reader smut
Synopsis: you see her for the first time in weeks, she's a pitfighter now,,, and she looks,,,so,,so stressed
18+ only, MDNI.
top vi, bottom reader, begging, hair pulling, praise, edging, pussy slapping, degradation, dacryphilia, face riding, marking, Hair pulling
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How did you get here?
Well you actually know exactly how, you where searching for Vi, your best friend who mysteriously disappeared after the explosion of gray into Piltover. When you finally found her right after her match in a bar, you offered to take some of that stress off of her shoulders...
--
"V-Vi-- oh god-- fuck-- Violet please-, plea---oh!-- god please Vi let me eat you outt~" You whine, your hands find her messily dyed undercut to rub and pull at it while she slurps, soft moans coming from her mouth going directly into you messy cunt "W--why would i do tha--" slurrp "T--thaat princess?" she moans into your cunt, it always felt so good when she talked with her mouth full "y-your already relieving my stress enough" she comes up to take a breath, her fingers continuing their work. Its a lewd sight, your airy moans of her name leaving your mouth while your slick covers her chin and cheeks. You hold onto one of her pillows for dear life "B--bbb-ah!~ because i--i wanna' make you f' good" you squirm as you approach your high "Hold it" she commands and takes her place between your thighs again and moves just so painfully slow..
You squirm and instinctively squeeze her head in between your thighs and as quickly as this all started, she took her fingers out and slaps your cunt "Bad girl" she chuckles as you squirm and tear up slightly "Beg for it" she ghosts her thumb over your clit as you beg "Vi o-oh Vi ple- please, please let me c--cum please oh--oh my god please Vi--PLease Violet" you manage to get out "Good girl.." she pushes her fingers back into your messy cunt and goes back to lapping at your folds till you make a mess of her face and hand "H--haah" you moan and twitch as you come down from your high.
She chuckles and gives your cunt one more love tap "We aren't done you know" she pulls off her boxers and moves in to kiss you "lucky you, your wish is coming true" she moves in for one more kiss before asking "you wanted to eat me out right princess?" you nod desperately, she positions her wet kitty atop your mouth "tap m' thigh if its too much okay princess?" you nod again and pull her to sit on your face and get to munching. Vi moans and grinds down on your face "o--oh~ what a good girl.." she continues her motion, moaning whenever her clit bumped the tip of your nose.
"V--mpph vi I missed th--mph this" you moan into her cunt, wanting to make her feel the way you did just moments ago. She moans out "haaggh- missed you too princes-mmmph~~ princess" her moans become more desprate as she picks up her pace "G--god I missed you,, Missed this,, Missed your sweet face and cunt--fuck" Vi whines and picks up the pace "Don' know why the fuck I left--fuck baby girl m' coming" Her release then takes over her body, she desperately ruts against your mouth as you lap up every last drop just as she did for you before.
She collapses besides you and kisses you, tasting herself all over your mouth "Too bad I don't have m' strap" she cuddles into you, pushing her face into the crook of your neck to give you even more hickeys so your neck and collarbones match the inside of your thighs. You sigh softly "Come home with me?.......please?" you silently beg her, desperate for her companionship "mmkay princess" she kisses the top of your head "Rest, I'll be right here" she whispers into your ear and then falls asleep herself.
you mentally check two things off your motive list
Find Vi and bring her home
sleep with her
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Hope you guys liked this!!!! um.. act two. was.. something!! [kill me now]
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jeonginsleftcheek · 4 months ago
Text
A relaxing evening
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pairing: lee felix x afab!reader
genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers
word count: 3.2k
warnings: soft dom lix, big dick lix, sensual massage, clit play, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, one light spank, not proofread (lmk if i missed something)
a/n: after spending a month writing a literal 70k+ book for hyunjin i hit a bit of a writer's block and who better to get me out of it than my very own muse, lee felix😏
~ Masterlist
To say you've had a horrible day was an understatement.
You've had the worst day that actually stretched and turned into the worst week.
Your boss was on your neck constantly, there was so much work to do which made you stay at the company working overtime and coming home late.
To make matters worse, everyone was angry and annoyed, so the conflict at work grew into a displeasing feeling that had you desperate for any kind of relief, even just a free afternoon to nap.
Felix, your roommate and friend, noticed how you came home later than usually and more drained day after day, the dark circles under your eyes getting progressively darker as the week came to an end.
Finally, Friday came around and you were barely standing on your feet when you walked into the apartment.
Felix is sitting on the couch, probably playing some games before sleep as you shuck off your shoes.
"Hi, sugar plum."- he snickers when he hears you groaning behind him, his head falling backwards to catch a glimpse of you.
"Please, don't start. I'm not in the mood."- you say tiredly.
Usually you throw disgustingly cute nicknames back and forth at each other but your brain was short-circuiting so bad that even thinking of a nickname for your friend was hard.
Felix exhales, pouting as he gets up and makes his way to you, helping you take off your blazer.
"I'll heat up some dinner."- he says and you nod, not even bothering to answer because the last ounce of strength you have is focused on standing upright.
You follow him to the kitchen to drink some water, and Felix looks at your tired frame, feeling sad that you're so down, instead of being your usual self, the one that jokes around and yaps away with him until the early morning.
"Why don't you sit down?"- he guides you to the chair and you sit wordlessly.
"My whole body hurts."- is what you say after a few moments of silence, as Felix waits for the dinner to warm up, his eyes trained outside the window.
"And my mind too."- you add as he looks at you and you notice the sympathetic smile he gives you.
"Well..."- Felix starts as he takes the food out on a plate. "I could prepare you a nice warm bath."
"You would do that?"- you ask, in your tired state you feel emotional and tears prick at your eyes.
"Of course I would."- he smiles, the sweet expression on his face as he brings you dinner makes you feel a little bit healed already.
"You're an angel, Lixie."- you smile as he squeezes your shoulder.
"I don't know about that."- he chuckles shyly, his freckled cheeks becoming rosy instantly.
You shake your head with a fond smile as he makes his way to the bathroom while you finally have a normal warm meal after the lunch you ate at work.
Hunger takes you over and you finish eating quickly, just in time for Felix to come back.
"Oh, you're done already?"- he asks.
"Don't judge me."- you say and he chuckles.
"No, I'm not judging, just wondering if you're still hungry. I could make you something else?"
"No, no don't worry, Lix. I'm ready for that relaxing bath."- you smile and he nods, biting on his lip.
"Um, can I suggest something?"- he asks as you stand up and you tilt your head at him.
"What is it?"- you ask curiously.
"You know I have some knowledge about massaging. I could help you relieve your stress with a full body massage." - Felix says and your eyes widen. "I mean if you're comfortable with it. You don't have to... ugh forget it."- he seems embarassed suddenly and you chuckle.
"A free full body massage? Sign me up."- you smirk.
"Who said it was free?"- he smirks back at you.
"Oh, so you're gonna charge me for your services, hm?"- you joke and he laughs.
"No, of course not. I'm just joking."- he says. "Go enjoy the bath I prepared, before it gets cold."- he adds and you make your way to the bathroom.
As soon as you walk in, you gasp, Felix has really made an effort.
He put your favorite bath bomb with bubbles into the water, lit your favorite scented candle and even adjusted the lighting to be less attacking on your tired eyes.
You strip in no time, throwing all your clothes inside the hamper and getting into the bath as quickly as you could.
The water is still warm and it feels wonderful to submerge your weary body into the relaxing feeling.
You close your eyes, leaning your head back on a towel as you feel the relaxation slowly taking you over, traveling through your limbs and making you feel weightless.
The warm and cozy atmosphere that Felix created have you almost falling asleep in the bath as your body slips a little and you sit up with a start, your eyes snapping open.
"Y/n? You okay?"- you hear Felix on the other side of the door.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I'll be out soon."
"Okay, I prepared everything for the massage."- he says and you giggle to yourself.
You don't feel too nervous being practically naked in front of Felix as you have known him for a long time and since you've been roommates you have seen each other naked on accident a few times.
He even gave you a few shoulder and back massages when you were in pain from sitting at your desk for too long but he never suggested a full body one.
Curious about it and ready to relax completely, you shower and dry off quickly, putting a bathrobe on and leaving to your room.
"Lix?"- you peek inside and see that he has fluffed up your bed, lit another scented candle and a few normal ones just to add to the atmosphere, and prepared some massage oils.
"Damn, you went all out."- you chuckle.
"I wanna make you feel better."- he smiles sweetly, making your heart flutter a little as you make your way towards the bed.
The two of you stand awkwardly for a few moments before both of you chuckle.
"I should undress, right?"- you smile and Felix nods quickly before turning his back to you and covering his eyes for a good measure.
"Tell me when you're ready to start."- his voice is muffled behind his palms and you giggle as you take the robe off.
You lay down on your stomach, pulling a towel that Felix prepared over your backside and private parts, getting comfy on the soft bed.
"I'm ready."- you say when you find a nice position, your forehead pressed against the end of the pillow so you can breathe, your arms on either sides of you, aligning with your body.
Felix bites on his lip as his eyes roam on your body shamelessly.
"Lix?"- you say and he snaps out of his thoughts.
"Yes, let me grab some lavender oil. It's good for relaxing."- he announces and you mutter, ready to just enjoy having his skilful hands on you.
Felix kneels next to you, as you feel the bed dip and hear him opening the little bottle of oil.
Some light music is playing in the background and you exhale a hundred worries as soon as his fingers press on your shoulders.
"Mm Lixie."- you moan instantly, making his gut stir but he shakes it off, wanting to focus only on your well-being.
His thumbs circle your flesh slowly, going up to the sides of your neck and down the top of your shoulders before pressing back to the original spot, circling it and taking off the stiffness you feel from spending long hours at your desk.
Little moans of relaxation keep coming out of your mouth and Felix's sweatpants get tighter, as your body visibly relaxes.
Working his way down your back, he keeps adding oil and finding the most painful spots skilfully and relieving you of your pain, as if it was his actual career.
"God, Lixie, you're so good."- you whimper, smushing your face into the pillow for a moment.
"I know."- Felix smirks, making you chuckle.
And he does know. He knows exactly which pressure points are located where so when his fingers press into your lower back, just a bit above your ass, you feel a wave wash over you.
"Oh."- you exclaim a little but Felix never acknowledges it, smirking behind you as he gently massages your lower back.
You start feeling a bit hot, aroused even as he continues his ministrations, fingertips barely dipping to the swell of your ass.
Your breathing is slow and deep, your body completely relaxed as you left yourself in Felix's precious hands.
Felix shuffles a little, you hear more oil being opened before you feel his hands on your foot.
"Good?"- he checks in on you and you whimper as he presses and continues bringing you relaxing touches.
"Perfect."- you half-whisper, your mind floaty, all the stress from the week forgotten, no thoughts, just Felix.
Felix, with his soft hands and deep voice, his pretty smile and adorable freckles.
Wait.
Why are you thinking of him like that?
You don't know why, and you don't care as his hands slide above your ankle, he presses four fingers on your skin as if he's measuring something on the inner side before he finds a pressure point and starts working on it.
As soon as his finger finds that spot, you shiver, feeling yourself getting aroused the more he keeps circling that spot.
You would feel embarassed but you're so relaxed that you couldn't care less, your body melting even further into the bed, your arms coming up on either sides of your head as you gently fist the sheets beneath you.
Felix smirks, massaging the point harder, making your arousal drip between your folds, your cunt clenching around nothing.
He notices your slight squirming and that lets him know he's got you right where he wanted you.
He lets go for now, hands sliding up to massage your tired muscles.
At this point, you're aroused, wishing he would touch you where you need him the most and you want to press your legs together but you don't want him to notice that.
Felix already knows, after all, his touches were purposeful and he has wanted you for so long, wanted to be the one to make you feel good.
"Lix."- his nickname almost sounds like a whimper as he runs his hands on the back of your thighs.
"You okay?"- he asks, his fingertips dipping between your legs, touching your inner thighs as he gently starts massaging the flesh.
This is the last straw, your slick is now gushing out and you start feeling embarassed, wondering if he can see it or smell it.
"I-I'm fine."- you whimper as he keeps massaging your thighs.
"You sure?"- he asks, hands sliding up, close to your core and you lean into his touch as you grip the sheets.
"N-no."- you whimper.
"What's wrong?"- Felix smirks, fingertips brushing your asscheeks.
"I- um... I'm horny."- you turn your head sideways to look at him and he hovers over you.
"I know. You're kinda obvious."- he says and you whine.
"You did this on purpose."- you say as he runs his hands on your lower back and waist, making you shiver constantly as you feel ten times more sensitive than usually.
"Would you hate me if I did?"- he bites on his lip, his eyes big and pleading.
"No."- you whisper.
"You want me to continue?"- he asks and you nod.
"Please."
"How about a special massage?"- his voice is low as he slowly removes the towel. "Do I have your permission, angel?"
"Yeah."- you say, legs spreading slightly as you lift up your middle just a bit so he can touch you properly.
Felix groans at you presenting your wetness to him, your forehead buried in the pillow again as you anticipate his touches.
His hands are on your ass, as he gropes and massages them before his fingertips dip between your legs, sliding through your wet folds.
"L-Lixie."- you whimper as he touches you teasingly, fingers gently rubbing around your pussy and towards your other hole, down to your inner thighs again.
You push back into him and he gently grabs your hip.
"Don't move, my honey bee."- he says and you snort.
"Alright, pumpkin pie."- you retort.
"Let me do all the work, you just relax."- he says, fingers sliding through your dripping folds repeatedly, making you clench around nothing constantly, before he finally presses into your clit.
"Mm."- you moan when he starts sliding the pads of his fingers up and down your clit, swollen with arousal and coated in your slick.
You moan quietly as Felix keeps massaging your sensitive clit slowly, up and down, left and right and then circling it and gently pinching it, occasionally dipping his fingertips into your cunt to gather more of your arousal.
You've never had anyone touch you this gently, it was usually a guy just flicking your clit fast when you're about to cum and while that does feel nice, this was a different kind of nice.
You felt tortured in a good way, like Felix was constantly dangling your orgasm in front of your eyes but never letting you get to it.
So much arousal kept gushing out of your pussy that for a moment you thought you were cumming as he kept pressing his fingers into your clit, playing your body expertly, like he's done this many times before.
"Lix- I wanna cum."- you whimper.
"I know love, but be patient. Just a bit more, I promise it's gonna feel amazing."- he coos at you, fingers working your nub faster and with more pressure.
You push back into him again and he grabs your hip as he starts flicking your swollen clit fast.
"Lixie, ah!"- you whine loudly, your slick coating his hand.
"I need you inside me!"- you add, holding onto the sheets.
"Mhm, later. I know you can cum just from this."- he says, as you keep jolting and whining.
You can't believe it's happening but your orgasm hits you like a wave, as you spill onto his hand, moaning loudly as he keeps massaging your sensitive nub.
"Oh fuck!"- you whimper when he slides his fingers to your folds.
"Interested in a deeper massage?"- his voice is low and dark as he leans down to your ear, making goosebumps rise on your skin.
"Mm, please Lixie."- you moan.
He slowly pushes two of his fingers into your sopping cunt, taking him in greedily as you were so relaxed and ready to receive.
Felix adjusts his position between your legs and it doesn't take him long to find your gummy spot.
"Lix!"- you groan when he starts gently fucking into it.
"Feels good?"- he asks, his lips brushing your ear as he scissors you open.
"Heavenly."- you moan out as he fucks you slowly, effectively massaging your walls, making your pussy clench on his fingers constantly, begging for more.
"Just relax."- he says as you keep pushing back on his hand, slowly fucking yourself on his fingers.
"I said relax."- he chuckles, lightly smacking your ass.
You gasp, calming down immediately, surprised by his commanding tone and actions.
You never thought your shy Felix would be handling you like this as you present yourself to him, to use you freely as he wants.
But all he actually wants is to bring you pleasure like you've never felt before, making sure to ruin every man for you so you only belong to him.
Eventually he speeds up, his fingers perfectly hitting your sweet spot and driving you insane, as you drip around him, the wet sounds are so loud that it makes you feel even more aroused.
Felix leans down and unexpectedly starts kissing and gently biting the flesh on your ass as he holds your hip and ruts his fingers fast into you.
"Ah, ah, Lix- Lixie, ah! Felix!"- you moan desperately as you tremble, squirting a fountain as he keeps on fucking into you, prolonging your orgasm as much as he can, teeth sinking into your flesh as you squirm under him.
"Oh..."- you're speechles when he pulls out, you can't feel your legs and your ears are ringing.
"You with me, angel?"- Felix hovers above you as he caresses your head gently.
"That was the best orgasm ever."- you exhale.
"Told you I wanna make you feel better."- he smirks, hearing you praise him boosts his ego and makes his cock twitch and throb painfully inside his tight boxers.
"Is there more?"- you chuckle making him laugh and he gently turns you to lay on your back.
"If you want, I can offer more special massages."- he smirks as his eyes roam all over your body, his hands squeezing your thighs and massaging them gently.
You look down to see his dick straining in his pants.
He follows your eyes and looks down too, just as you hook your fingers in his pants.
"I want your cock, Lixie."- you say as you slowly slide his pants down.
"You do?"- he looks a bit surprised and you giggle.
"Mhm."- you say as you finally free him.
"Oh."- you gasp. "You're a grower."- you add with a smirk.
"Oh shut up."- he looks embarassed suddenly and you start giggling again.
"Come here and kiss me first."- you say and his eyes soften as he leans down to kiss you sloppily, your tongues crashing against each other, his heavy cock pressed against you.
"So pretty."- you bit on his lip as your hands wrap around his length.
"What, my cock?"- he chuckles.
"Mhm. Want it so bad."- you whimper, and Felix groans lowly.
"You can have it, angel. Anything you need."- he says as he slowly pushes inside you.
"Mm. More."- your legs wrap around him, making him hit deeper as he keeps pushing his length inside you until he fills you up to the brim.
"Feeling relaxed?"- he asks, his hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear and gently touch your face.
"Mhm, I have no thoughts at all."- you give him a smile and he chuckles quietly.
"Then, let's keep it that way."- he says as he slowly starts sliding his cock against your walls.
Felix keeps working hard to make you satisified and relaxed, to get you into a state of pure bliss, even if it means putting his own pleasure at the back shelf as he makes you cum on his cock over and over again.
He fucks you until you're shaking and crying, gripping at his biceps and clawing at his back, whimpering how sensitive you are, your pussy sloppy and shaped to fit his cock, which is when he finally lets go, cumming inside you hard, filling you up with his hot cum.
And when you fall asleep in his arms, a small blissful smile on your face, Felix knows he has accomplished his mission.
And he will do it again in a heartbeat, anything to make you feel better.
✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger
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angelbarelywrites · 10 months ago
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♡ slashers scenarios | your first time together is…your first time
♡ fandoms; The Boy, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2006), slashers (general)
♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt
♡ reader; gender neutral - i tried to be ambiguous but where i couldn’t be, i gave an option for both sets of parts uwu
♡ cw; sex (this is smut my friend), a little bit of implied breeding kink, possessiveness
♡ notes; what it says on the tin; you lose your virginity the first time you have sex with your stabby bf. i can only dream 😔
also, probably the last fic with a random selection of characters , i have the poll results n everything. vincent was the winner and brahms three percent behind him, so they’re being added to a-team permanently
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Brahms Heelshire
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> he’s relieved when you tell him you haven’t gone that far before
> because he’s a virgin too, and probably more nervous than you are
> he’s eager though- he’s always eager when it comes to you
> he pulls you on top, grabbing your hips and grinding up on you as you kiss
> and then he urges you to use his face- fuck it or sit on it, depending on what you’re working with
> and while your hesitant, not wanting to overwhelm him for his first time
> but god, he’s a good little sub, and he loves every second of it
> after he’s made you cum, he pulls away- practically still drooling, and begs for you to touch him
> he bucks up into your hand immediately, already so hard he’s twitching
> if he lasts more than a few pumps, he flips you, seeming shy to pin you, but trying his best
> and he has to take a breather to make sure he doesn’t immediately cum inside you
> he’s slow at first, literally shaking
> and for your first time, it’s all missionary- he needs to watch your face, making sure he’s doing a good job
> and making sure he tells you how pretty you are
> he cums first, he just can’t help it- but he’s not at all hesitant to replace his cock with his fingers
> and he makes sure you cum at least twice more, using his mouth again if he needs to
> by the time you finally catch your breath, he’s already more than ready for round 2
Micheal Myers
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> he’s already pushing you to your knees in front of him when you manage to tell him
> he pauses- he’s not sure what to do
> he’s always rough.
> and he’d been rough with you thus far
> he rubs your cheek softly and huffs- and at first you think he’s going to put a stop to things for the day
> until he throws you over his shoulder, giving your ass a playful squeeze in the process
> of course he’s not going to fuck you on the porch like an animal
> not for your very first time at least
> he drops you on the bed and takes his mask off
> it’s not the first time you’ve seen him without it, but it’s still special
> he teases you, hands all over your body as he carefully watches your reactions
> he has you in your undies when he finally gets impatient and goes back to his usual selfishness
> he had you get on your knees again- this time more gently coaxing, and guides you through taking him
> and for the record, there’s a lot to take
> before you have him too needy he lays you down
> you can tell this is going to be a once in a while thing, so you savor the sight of him between your thighs
> he eats you out/rims you like it’s his goddamn job, staring up at you all the while
> it’d be creepy if he wasn’t so good at what he was doing
> if you insist on missionary, he’ll let you this time
> but he wants you doggy so he can watch you take him inch by inch
> this boy has so much stamina
> you cum three times before he finally pulls out, painting your back
> you try to sit up but he doesn’t let you- he’s not done with you
> not even close
Thomas Hewitt
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> something about his eyes darken when you tell him you’re a virgin
> he’d never be the one to initiate something first - he’s far too scared of crossing your boundaries to lead like that
> so if you’re telling him, it’s probably because you’re telling him you want him to take your virginity
> and even though he never believed in the Bible, or the sexist shit Hoyt always spouted
> he’s possessive, and if something about being your first is exciting. it was another part of you that’d be all his
> before you know it the man is ripping your clothes off. like literally ripping.
> he manhandles you- unintentionally, but it’s hard for him not to with your size difference
>he spreads your thighs wide apart and goes to town
> he goes down on you again, and again, and again and—
> by the time he sits up you’re already overstimulated
> but it’s his turn, and he’s eager to take it
> you can feel how huge he is through his pants, and your jaw drops when you see him
> “Tommy, that won’t fit”
> he huffs, amused through his mask and nuzzles you reassuringly
> he starts in missionary, but then he pushes your legs up into a full mating press
> he fucks into you deep and hard, going faster until you’re babbling nonsense
> he pulls your hair and makes you look him in the eye as he cums inside
> and when he does pull out, you can feel it dripping from you
> he looks at it and then up at you excitedly, and you know what he wants
> again
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shadow4-1 · 9 months ago
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I'm just imagining using a secluded space on base to do some yoga away from the 141, only to realize Ghost's been watching disapprovingly the whole time.
Like, what you lack in raw strength compared to the boys, you have in agility. You're not nearly as rigid. You're flexible, and it's only because you take the time to work on it. You have several methods but dancing and yoga are by far your favorite.
Neither hobby you can enjoy on base much, because well...you always get stared at. So, you take it upon yourself to clear out part of old studio space used for storage. It's kind of crappy, with cracked tile and dust bunnies galore, but it'll do. You play some music in your earbuds and do your beginning stretches on your mat.
When you're in the zone you're in the zone. You end up in a place far away and yet still within yourself. The burning stretch from some of your maneuvers feels so good you nearly groan. You get lost in the personal meditation. One certain position uses a specific pair of muscles in your lower back. It takes you a moment to realize why it makes you gasp. You bite your lip and decide to take a short break.
As you untangle your body you feel something's off. You're physically fine, but your heart starts to race. Your stomach lurches. You move to stand, suddenly startled by seemingly nothing.
"Yer doing it wrong."
And just like that Ghost makes himself known from behind a shelf. He's in his workout clothes, which isn't much but some slinky basketball shorts and a tank top. Black of course. His mask is the soft one he uses when he's not on the field.
You scoff at him, still feeling on edge but also relieved at no immediate threat.
"You do yoga?" You ask incredulously. "Fine, big guy. Show me how it's done."
He rolls out a mat and gestures for you to copy him. It's a simple move, one you've perfected. And yet he still shakes his head at your form. You try it again. Wrong. Again. Wrong.
"Where am I going wrong?"
You don't expect him to reach over and grab your back leg. He pulls it out further. You stumble and he rights you with the same arm. He tuts at you, but he's the reason you're off balance.
"Lift your back. No. Higher. Your hip should be down."
Next thing you know he's behind you, his large hands making your body twist and bend. You end up in the same position as you'd been in earlier, but this time you can really feel the stretch. Maybe he was right, you were doing it wrong.
You tilt your back up and feel the familiar stretch. It's better than you've ever been able to get it on your own. You can't help the soft groan that leaves your lips. The last time those muscles had been used was before you joined the 141, when you'd still had a boyfrie-
Two hands grab at those spots. Large thumbs work circles into the areas. Despite yourself, you moan. This was going a bit too far but...
The more he kneads the more you fall to your knees. You can't hold the position with your back up anymore. You practically collapse onto the mat, ass up, Ghost knelt over you.
He still doesn't let up. His thumbs dig into those circles hard enough it should hurt but instead you only feel bliss. You bite your lip, it feels so fucking good. Eventually he relents, and stops digging into you. You whine at the absence.
"That feels so good." You groan, voice sounding way too needy for what just occurred.
"M' glad." Ghost huffs amusement evident in his tone.
Ghost grabs you and flips you over onto your back. He grabs one of your legs and pushes it as far forward towards your head as he can without hurting you. He does the same to the other. It's a weird position, but it's not far off from some of the other ones you're used to. It burns but it also feels good. Considering you're flat on your back, you feel supported.
You smile up at him, a little breathless but also happy that he's willing to help you out. Yoga did not seem like something any where near his wheelhouse.
"I didn't know you liked yoga. How did you learn about this stuff?" You ask, using your own arms to hold your legs in position as Ghost gets up higher on his knees.
Ghost huffs behind his mask as he looks down at you. He narrows his eyes, his head blocking out the white light of the overhead flourescents. You feel a hand slide between the material of your shorts and the curve of your ass.
"The Kama Sutra."
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But Daddy I Love Him - Jacaerys Velaryon
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A/N: Oh hi! First of all, thanks for all the love on my last Jace fic. I'm sorry it's taken so long to post my next, I've had a crazy couple of weeks, but I wanted to make to get something out before this week's episode. I can't believe there's just 3 eps left of the season! I am hoping to get my Jace chapter fic out before then, so I have put most of my focus there. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!!
TS Prompt #8: But Daddy I Love Him
Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 5.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader fall in love, much to the displeasure of the reader's father.
Warnings: smut
Jacaerys Velaryon is beautiful.
It is tourney day in King's Landing, and your eyes are stuck to him as he makes his way out into the arena. Around you, there are scattered conversations whispered not low enough, about how the prince has matured in the last year, how handsome he has become.
He has not yet put his helmet on. This leaves his hair out, curls whipping around him in the gentle breeze. He flicks his hair back and there is a chorus of awes around you. You smirk at the reaction.
"The arrogance," your father, Jason Lannister, mutters from your side. You barely spare him a glance, not wanting to remove your eyes from Jacaerys.
"What do you mean?" you ask.
"He's showing off," your father says, disgust in his voice.
"It is a tourney," you say, "Isn't that the point?" He doesn't respond, just continues to monitor the arena space.
Jacaerys mounts his horse and with bated breath, you watch as he accepts the lance from the Master of Revels. His opponent is a knight you haven't met yet, a Ser Estermont. He has done well in the tourney so far, though, which makes you nervous.
As both men prepare to make their joust, you lean forward in your seat, needing to see as closely as possible, what is about to happen.
Unlike the matches before, this one is over in one round. Jacaerys aims his lance to the perfect angle, and expertly knocks over the knight from Greenstone.
Applause erupts from the viewing gallery, and you nearly stand up and cheer, you are so relieved about his win. Jacaerys rides around the stands and stops in front of the gallery you sit in. He lifts off his helmet and smiles in a way that makes your heart race.
"Lady Y/N," he says, and you think you hear discontented sighs from behind you. "Might I request your favor, that I may excel through the rest of this tournament?" You smile and reach for your wreath of flowers. For one moment, your father grips your wrist, as if he means to keep you from going. But it does not last long. No matter what your father may think of Jacaerys, he is still the prince, and future heir to the the throne. To deny him would mean scandal.
As you approach the railing, you try to fight off the grin at seeing him. Jacaerys extends his lance so that you may drop the wreath onto it easily.
"Thank you, My Lady," he says, eyes locked onto yours.
"Good luck, My Prince."
He rides off into the arena, garnering more applause from the stands, as you return to your seat. There are jealous eyes upon you. Even your father looks angry. But you pay them no mind. There will be more rounds, and Jacaerys is sure to succeed time and again, which will have him request the favor of more ladies.
Smiling as you sit down, you think of the girls who will bestow upon him their own wreaths. You might even feel bad for them, for surely, they will assume that his attention means he might court them. But you know that his affections lie only with you.
To you, the prince was just Jace, and you had loved him since you were a girl. Three months ago, he had declared his love for you, too, and ever since, the two of you had been hiding your love, waiting for the right moment to proclaim your intentions.
"He did quite well," you say to your father, making another effort to talk up Jacaerys to him.
"Ser Estermont was an easy opponent," your father says, disinterest and dismissal reflected in his tone.
Once the tournament is over, Jace makes his way into the castle. Several lords and ladies stop him on his way, congratulating him on his victory. He thanks them in passing, his thoughts only on getting into the castle, where he knows he will find you.
There is a feast to be held after the tournament, and while most everyone heads that way, he dismisses himself, saying he wishes to change before then.
When he turns down the hallway towards his quarters, the area is empty. The guards that usually stand at his door were at the tourney and are now sitting down for the feast.
You come around the other end of the hallway, your red dress immediately drawing his eye. You glance around cautiously before breaking into a run, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, laughing as his arms settle around you.
"Oh," you say on a breath, pulling back just enough to face him, "You have no idea how worried I was for you."
"Have you so little faith?" he asks with a smile.
"I believed in you," you say, hand to his chest, "But belief doesn't change the fear that comes at watching a lord twice your size sprint at you with a lance."
"I'm alright," he says, his hands running gently along your back. You smile at him and lean in to kiss his lips softly. Jace hums contentedly into the kiss, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he pulls you into a corner and deepens the kiss.
Together, you stay locked there for a long moment, relishing the quiet that is so hard to find. Jace's hands travel through your hair and over your body, greedy to get his fill of you while he has you.
"I should get to the feast," you say softly when you break for air, your forehead pressed to his.
"Stay with me," he says, entwining his hand with yours.
"My father will be looking for me," you say. Jace's smile drops. "I'm trying," you say, "To sway him to our favor."
"I know you are."
"Your victory today should help with that," you say, giving him a small smile. "Congratulations, by the way."
"Thank you, My Lady," he says with a laugh. "I'll see you at the feast."
"Yes, My Prince."
By the next week, your father's attitude still hasn't changed. At the feast, you tried to talk about the prince, but he wouldn't hear anything of it. Jace had even come over to greet your family. Your father was diplomatic and only spoke to the prince for as long as he had to.
"I don't get why he won't give his blessing," you say, looking down at Jace. His head is in your lap, his eyes closed. He is so peaceful at this moment, you hate to bring this up again, but there seem to be fewer and fewer times for the two of you to be together. Even now, you are supposed to be with other ladies of the court, practicing your needlework. Instead, you snuck off to the Godswood to be with Jace amongst the blossoming trees.
"I'd be queen one day," you continue. "What more could he want for me?" Jace opens his eyes and looks at you with a frown.
"It's because of the rumors about me," he says lowly. You want to say he's wrong, but you wouldn't even believe yourself. The rumors of Jace's parentage had only grown in the last few years. It seemed that as he became older, and King Viserys grew sicker, the accusations only multiplied.
"I don't care about that, though," you say brushing your fingers through his hair.
"You should," he says, taking your hand in his own. "There are some who would see my brothers and I slain, rather than see us inherit our birthright."
"All the great houses swore allegiance to your mother," you say, squeezing his hand. "And you are her trueborn son. To do so would be--"
"Treason," he says, "But there are still those who would try it."
"My father wouldn't," you say. "As stubborn as he is, he is loyal to King Viserys, and by extension, your mother." Jace sits up, a serious expression on his face.
"Tensions are high amongst my family," he says, taking your hands in his. "In the entire kingdom, really. I am worried what may happen. Your father is smart, and that is why he must worry, too."
"You all fear something that may never come to pass," you say, "Are we to be separated in the name of what ifs?"
"We are to be separated until we can convince your father that I can keep you safe."
"And how do we do that?" you ask. Jace lays his head back on your lap.
"I don't know," he says.
The room is dark when you enter your father's quarters that night. He sent word to your lady's maid to see him immediately, but she couldn't find you until now, because you and Jace had been intwined in the Godswood all afternoon.
"Lady Clegane said she did not see you today," your father says right away, before you can even greet him. "Were you not to be under her tutelage this afternoon?"
"I don't need to study my needlepoint, Father," you say, stopping in front of him. "No man alive cares how well his wife can stitch."
"You were with the prince, weren't you?" he asks, standing. He towers over you, but you hold your head high, meeting his gaze.
"Why don't you like him?" you ask. He merely shakes his head.
"It is not a daughter's job to pick her husband," he says, "That duty lies with her father."
"And who would you have me marry instead? A lesser lord of the Westerlands? Someone directly under your control?"
"If that is what I demanded, yes," he says, bracing your arms. "I raised you to obey me, Y/N."
"No, you raised me to cage me," you say, tugging from his grip. "I would be Jacaery's queen! There isn't a more advantageous match out there for me. Yet you refuse to even hear us out, because it is not of your doing!" His face reddens, a telltale sign of his rage. You have never raised your voice to him before, and are now slightly scared of what he may do.
"I think it's time you return to Casterly Rock," he says lowly.
"What?" you ask, momentarily stunned.
"Your time in King's Landing is over," he says firmly. "You have become disobedient and careless."
"Father--"
"Do you think I am the only one who sees it, Y/N?" he asks, taking your hands in his desperately. His eyes are wide and pleading. "Do you think no one saw the two of you in the Godswood today? That no one can see the secret looks you exchange? That family is shameless, and I will have you take no part in it.
"I will not allow your reputation to be ruined by the prince's," he says. Tears begin to form at the finality of his words.
"When do I leave?" you ask, setting your jaw as you fight off the tears.
"I'll escort you the day after tomorrow, so you can make your goodbyes," he says. He can't meet your eyes.
"Very well."
Jace is speechless when you tell him. He found you sitting outside of his chambers the next night, tears streaming down your face. He invited you inside, a hurtle the two of you had yet to pass until then, and held you close while you told him your fate.
"We'll only have tonight," you say quietly.
"Maybe it's for the better."
"How can it be when it separates us?" you ask, looking up at him with watery eyes.
"Just for now," he says, brushing your hair back gingerly. "When things relax, we can try to convince him again."
"How long will that be?" you ask, "He'll have me married off as soon as possible, I know." Jace frowns down at you, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, that he knows he can't find.
"I won't stop fighting for you, Y/N," he says. "I promise."
"I won't either."
"We'll find a way," he says. You nod your head, a new wave of tears incoming, and relax into his chest. He holds you in his arms for a long time, his had tracing patterns along your back. The fire is nearly out in his hearth, and the room grows dark quickly.
"When did he say he wanted you back?"
"Fuck what he said," you say, looking at him intently. "I am not leaving your side tonight." With a hand to his cheek, you bring your lips together. The kiss is slow, a bit salty with the tears streaming down your face, but it is all he has ever wanted. He tries not to think about the fact that this might very well be the last time he ever gets to taste your lips, ever gets to hold you.
But it seems that your thoughts go there as well. Quickly, the kiss turns passionate. Your teeth scrape against his lip, like you can take him with you to Casterly Rock. His hands move down your body, to places he hasn't dared to explore yet. As one, the two of you move, so that he has you pinned to the couch, his body atop yours in a way he's only dreamed about before. You moan into his kiss as his body rocks into yours.
“Y/N,” he says breathlessly, forcing himself to break away from your kiss. Your lips are red, swollen from his touch. Your hair is spread out around you in a cascade of curls. It is torture to see you like this and not bring his body clashing into yours again.
“What?” you ask, your hand trailing down his chest, as if you need to touch him however you can.
“We should stop.”
“Why?”
“If anyone ever found out, you would be disgraced. Your father already doesn’t like me, I don’t want to give him any other reason to—“
“I’ll tell you something right now,” you say, “My good name is mine alone to disgrace. Being here with you now, doesn’t change a single thing about my honor.”
"Are you sure?"
"I need you, Jace," you whisper. You are barely able to finish the words before his mouth meets yours again, fiercer than before. He doesn't stay there too long. He needs to taste you everywhere, savor every moment he's got left with you.
His lips move across your face and down your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites down softly, the way your back arches your body into his. He sits the two of you up for just a moment, so that he can pull at the laces along your back.
When the top of your dress falls, he stares at your bare chest for a long moment. You smile at him, your skin flushed.
"You are so beautiful," he says. You grab hold of his face, kissing him again as you fall back onto the couch. Jace palms your breast, kneading gently as you whimper into his mouth. You pull at his clothes, too, until you rip his shirt off over his head.
Skin to skin now, Jace breaks from your lips to kiss down your chest. He lingers for a moment on your breasts, but his need to take you is growing too urgent. He moves down lower, tugging your dress down with him until you are fully exposed to him.
"Y/N," he says on a sigh, marveling at the sight of you.
"I love you."
"I love you," he says, dropping his lips to the folds at your center. The moan you let out is nearly enough to send him over, but he won't deny himself the opportunity to feel what it's like to be inside of you. He focuses on your pleasure, kissing the sensitive bud at the apex of your thigh, watching your face with rapt attention, seeing what action makes you cry out, which makes you thrust into him.
When you cry out his name, his watches proudly as your body clenches, waves of pleasure roll through you. Jace keeps up his actions for a few moments longer, tasting and savoring the moment as you come down.
When he sits up, he watches the rise and fall of your chest, the satisfied smile on your face. He kisses your lips passionately, treasuring the little sounds of happiness you make as he does.
He drops his trousers next, rubbing his cock against your slick folds. He presses into you slowly, barely able to keep his control, his need is so great. You gasp as you take him in, grabbing hold of his shoulders. He begins to rock into you, his movements gentle. As your sounds become more frequent, he picks up his pace, until the only sound he can hear is your cries of pleasure, and the collision of your two bodies.
He comes soon after that, his body collapsing on top of yours. For a long while, the two of you lay there, sweaty and happy, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.
"Jace," you say on a breath, breaking the silence first.
"Yes, my love?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.
"This cannot be the last time," you say, cupping his cheek.
"It won't be. We'll find a way, I swear."
It's early morning when you return to your chambers. Your father collects you an hour later, and although the look he gives you suggests that he knows where you were, thankfully, he doesn't say anything.
The journey to Casterly Rock is long, taking nearly three weeks, and the entire time, your thoughts are on Jace. You bring him up a few times with your father, but after the most recent, he stops looking at you, stops speaking altogether, and rides astride his horse, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
When the news of King Viserys's death breaks, you hear it from your lady's maid. You shoo her away when she tries to finish braiding your hair. You know you should feel sad - Viserys was a great king, and had been sick for a long time. The last time you saw him, he looked like a walking corpse, and you had to avert your gaze.
But his passing means that Rhaenyra will be crowned queen. She will return from Dragonstone, where she fled just a week after you left King's Landing, and Jace with her.
You run from your chambers and burst into your parents' quarters, and find them talking in hushed, urgent tones. Your mother turns at your arrival and the look on her face scares you. There is panic in her gaze, mixed with a sadness that seems to grow when she sees you.
"Y/N," she says softly.
"I just heard the news."
"Yes."
"I expect we'll be leaving for King's Landing soon?" you ask, looking to your father. "For Princess Rhaenyra's coronation?"
"My dear," your mother says, a hand out to call you to her side. "Maybe you should sit down."
"What is it?" you ask as she sits you down in front of their empty hearth.
"Rhaenyra is not going to be queen," your father says.
"What do you mean?"
"Aegon has been crowned."
"He usurped the throne?" you ask in shock. "Are we gathering our bannerman? Should we--"
"Y/N," your father says with a sigh, taking your hands as he sits across from you. "We won't be calling our bannerman. We are supporting King Aegon."
"You swore allegiance to Rhaenyra," you say icily, looking between your parents' faces.
"I can't explain it all to you, daughter. There is much you don't understand."
"Uncle Tyland?" you ask quietly. Certainly, your level-headed uncle would see reason, when your father could not.
"He sits upon Aegon's small council," your father says.
"How long has this been planned?" you ask, moving away from your parents. The room suddenly feels too suffocating. Watching them, waiting for their response, you catch a quick look between your parents.
"How long have you known about this, Father?" you ask, stepping closer to look him in the eye.
"Rhaenyra was never going to be queen," he says lowly. "Regardless of the parentage of her sons. Although, that certainly didn't help her cause." You pull back from him, a look of disgust on your face. "And Aegon will make a good king."
"What will happen to Rhaenyra? To her sons?" you ask, the second question coming out broken. He doesn't answer. You look to your mother, hoping for some words of support from her, but she shares the same sad look on her own face.
"You've known this for so long . . ." you say, thoughts racing, "That's why you wouldn't approve an engagement between Prince Jacaerys and I."
"Yes," he says, "And I won't feel sorry for it. He'll be killed, no doubt. I don't want the same fate for you."
"But Daddy," you cry, calling him by a name you haven't in years, feeling as helpless as if you were still that child, "I love him!"
"It's already done, Y/N," he says, pain in his eyes. You let out a strangled sound before sliding down the wall.
"I'm having his baby," you say through a sob.
"What?" your mother asks urgently, crouching at your side. "What do you mean?" But no words come to you. The tears are falling too fast, any words choked by hiccupping.
Eventually, they bring you to your room. They both asked more questions about the baby, but you don't answer them, you can't. You don't trust them.
Your father had known this fate would befall Rhaenyra, would befall her sons. He knew you loved Jace, and he still let it all happen.
The next morning, your mother comes into your room. Her eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. She brings you a cup of tea and kisses your forehead, before she says anything.
"Tell me about the baby," she says. "Are you certain?"
"No," you admit, bringing your knees to your chest. "But I haven't had my blood in a few weeks." Your mother nods and looks down sadly at her own drink.
"You'll need to drink moon tea," your mother says softly.
"I won't."
"Then you'll need to get married immediately, and claim the child as your new husband's."
"I won't do that either."
"Y/N," she begins with a sigh.
"You've already slammed the door on my whole world, I won't let you take this one last piece of him I have. If I am to have his child, I will keep it and I won't claim it as anyone else's."
"You'll be ruined," she says. "And if Aegon finds out that your child is Jacaerys's--"
"He won't. Nobody needs to know."
"Your father won't like this," she says gently. "You do not wish to make him angry."
"He's been angry. I've made my decision."
The next week, your cycle arrives, and you cry all day long.
"Sending another raven?" Rhaenyra asks, stepping out onto the cool balcony beside Jace. He gives her a tight lipped smile and nods. "Have you heard back from her?"
"Here and there," he says. He has been sending ravens to you for the past two weeks.
"I'm sorry your feelings fell into the middle of this mess."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Mother," he says seriously. She gives him a sad smile, a palm to his cheek.
"Baela tells me you have a plan to get her out," she says. Jace looks at her with wide eyes. He hadn't technically asked her permission, and what he was doing would be dangerous for their position.
"I know I should have told you," he starts.
"Yes, you should have. I would like to help," she says. She laughs at the bewildered look on Jace's face. "Do you think I would let you suffer here, knowing she's there, probably suffering too? Tell me your plan, Jace."
So he does. He gives her the same instructions he just sent to you. She gives him her support, while offering a few suggestions. She leaves him on the balcony after, giving him space to think over his plan, and to try and quell the hope building up inside of him.
All he is waiting for is one word from you, and he will enact this plan.
A day later, a raven knocks at his window, waking him from sleep. He leaps up immediately to grab its message, and finds just one word, written in your handwriting.
Yes.
On the morning of your escape, you awake with a smile on your face. It has been weeks since you felt anything at all. Your lady's maid enters into the room to ready you for the day, and you greet her, "Good morning."
"Good morning, My Lady," she says, looking at you in bewilderment. You're not sure you've spoken to her since you arrived at Casterly Rock. "I trust you slept well, then?"
"The best yet," you say.
As she moves about the room, getting your clothing together, you make sure to pick out the dullest dress in your wardrobe. When she sits you down to do your hair, you have her tuck your tendrils into a woven braid. Everything for indiscretion, or this plan will not work out.
When you walk into the breakfast room, your parents are gathered around a table. You give them a kind smile, playing the part of the dutiful daughter, knowing that your plans for escape were all laid.
"Good morning," your mother says, an air of suspicion in her voice.
"Morning," you say, sitting down next to her. "Good morning, Father."
"You haven't forgotten about your commitment today, I hope?" your father asks.
"No, I remember I am meeting with Lord Lannys today," you say innocently. He studies you for a moment like he doesn't believe you, but then his expression changes, or he forces it to. He forces himself to believe that you have finally pulled out of your darkness.
"Perhaps I'll accompany you down there," he says, "It's been a while since I have checked in on Lannisport."
"No," you say quickly. "You said you'd let me go with just a few guards."
"So I did."
"I have so little freedom," you say, "Am I to be chaperoned every day of my life?" The look on your father's face is one of remembrance, that this is the behavior he expects from his daughter.
"You will stay close to your guards," he says firmly.
"Of course."
"Our world is not as safe as it once was."
"I know."
"Very well."
You thank him and your mother, and when you bid them farewell, it is bittersweet. You try to see them as the loving parents you had when you were younger, but now you only see the causes of your heartbreak, and know that you're making the right call.
"When will she be here?" Joffrey asks impatiently, for the third time.
"Soon, I think," Jace answers.
"Why has it taken so long?"
"You don't have to wait with me, Joff," he says with a look to the younger boy. "It takes a long time to get here from the Westerlands."
In his plan, Jace had wanted to assure that your route would not be easily followable. The plan was for you to go to Lannisport and get aboard a ship that would take you to Seaguard. From there, you would travel by horse to Gulltown, where the Arryns would assure you passage to Dragonstone.
Yesterday, he got word that you arrived to Gulltown safely. If all went well, you would be in Dragonstone anytime now.
But the waiting was agony. Many times, Jace thought about saddling Vermax and flying out to you, just to get one glimpse of you. He knew himself, though, and knew that if he saw you, even from the air, he wouldn't want to let you out of his sights. He needed to wait patiently.
He was as bad as Joffrey, though.
When he finally sees your ship on the horizon, his heart starts beating faster. He rushes from his balcony and makes his way through the castle. Joffrey tries to keep up, but Jace loses him somewhere along the steps leading down to the shore.
Jace gets to the pier just as the small boat does. He doesn't think he is breathing as you step off the boat. Your eyes are searching for his and when they find him, a smile breaks across your face. You run towards him and he does the same, meeting you in the middle of the pier.
The second you are in his arms, you break down into tears. You cling to every part of him, your hands needing to touch him, needing to know that he is well. He realizes he is doing the same, his hand tangled in your hair, the other on your back.
"Oh, it's so good to see you," you say, pulling back just enough to look him over. Before Jace can say anything, you kiss him quickly, but fiercely.
"I'm so glad you're here," he says, hugging you again. You laugh, squeezing him just as tight.
"You're probably exhausted," he says, taking your hand and leading you back towards the castle. "You've had a long journey."
"Just a month," you say with a shrug, making him laugh.
"Well, you deserve your rest. I'll bring you right to my room," he says, "But there's one thing you'll have to do first."
"What's that?" you ask, furrowing your brow.
"Speak to my mother."
Dragonstone castle is not that much different from King's Landing, but it's unfamiliar, and unwelcoming. At least, the men sitting around Rhaenyra are. As you stand before them, some of your courage starts to slip.
"I am relieved to see you here safely, Lady Y/N," Rhaenyra says with a gentle smile.
"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. She stands and moves closer to you.
"I am sorry for having to do this, but seeing as your house has pledged their support to my brother, I have to ask where you allegiance lies," she says, stopping in front of you.
"With you, of course," you say immediately.
"You must know the risks, Y/N," she says, "You could very well be killed for supporting my claim and Jace's." For a moment, you glance back at your prince, and gather strength from his encouraging look.
"I'd burn my whole life down before I listen to another second of my father's scheming, and well before I bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen," you say.
"I love your son very much, I would never do anything to jeopardize his future, or yours, My Queen." Rhaenyra gives you a smile that is so much like her sons. She nods her head.
"Thank you, Y/N. Welcome to Dragonstone."
"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. Before you can even turn around, Jace's hand is in yours. He is looking down at you with a smile.
"Come on," he says, pulling on your hand gently. He leads you through the castle, up to his chambers, which will now be your own, he explains.
Once the doors close behind you, he is upon you, wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you. You smile into the kiss, realizing that this is not a dream, or just a passing moment. You'll get to stay in his arms for the rest of your lives.
"I love you," you say when you break away. "Thank you for getting me out of there."
"You're my lady, Y/N," he says, "And very soon I'll make you my princess. Of course I sent for you. I love you."
You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body into his again as your lips connect again.
"You must be exhausted," he says breathlessly. "You'll want to sleep."
"All I want is right here."
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fastandcarlos · 7 months ago
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Cuddles Are Home : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: as max arrives home after a busy day, he's keen to try something new, however it doesn't quite work out as well as he imagined
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No words needed to be spoken as Max walked into your hotel room. His muscles were aching, his eyes drooping as a result of yet another long day of practice. Race day was only a day away and he was pushing himself to the limit. You barely glanced at him as he walked in, knowing he had his own routine that he loved. Whilst Max sorted himself, you laid out across the sofa and scrolled through your phone, catching up with the events of the day that you had missed whilst down at the paddock supporting Max.
As soon as you heard his footsteps come back through the room you stood up from the sofa and went into the small kitchen that was attached. Meanwhile, Max walked into the living room and threw himself down on the sofa. He stretched his limbs out as much as he could, with his tall frame it didn’t take much for him to take up most of the room. After a few minutes you returned, placing the hot cup of tea that you had made for Max on the coffee table, you looked in confusion to try and find some space. Max could feel you staring, smiling softly at the expression on your face. He didn’t say a word, he simply tapped against his muscular chest, only to make you scoff, shaking your head as you quickly refused to accept Max’s offer.
“Just lay here, I’ll be alright.”
“You’re sore from a day of racing, the last thing you need is me on top of you,” you tried to argue, but Max was having none of it.
“I wouldn’t offer if it was a problem,” Max assured you, lazily reaching out and taking a hold of your hand. You took a step forward before he used his extra weight to pull you down on top of him. Your head rested at the top of his chest, just underneath his neck, bodies pressed together as you managed to rest your legs between Max’s. His arm wrapped around you, making sure that you were safe in position, squeezing you nice and tight to make the most of the close proximity between you both.
“I can’t believe you’ve got me laying here,” you chuckled as you felt several kisses being pressed against the top of your head, “we’ve become one of those couples.”
“It’s your fault,” he innocently teased, “you’ve turned me into one of those boyfriends I never thought I’d be.”
“Hey,” you giggled, slapping your hand gently against Max’s bare chest. You knew deep down it was true what Max was saying, he had been quite standoffish when you first started dating, but over time you had found a new, softer, side to Max that left him being known more for how affectionate he was towards you rather than the world champion he was.
And you would never have had him any other way.
“I hate that I love what you’ve done to me.”
There he went again, jokingly blaming you as if he wasn’t hopelessly in love with you and thankful for you every single day.
“You’re comfortable, right? We can shuffle around if you’re not babe.”
“I’m alright,” you assured Max, shuffling closer into his side as his grip around you tightened. “I wonder if the Max I knew when we first started dating ever imagined himself cuddling on the sofa like this.”
It was the kind of wholesome moment that Max always refused to be a part of, but now he craved. He laid for some time and told you about his day, filled you in on all the details that you missed from the practice from where you were stood in the paddock, making sure to share every last detail with you.
And as he did so, you listened intently too. You were so close to his heart you could feel it quicken as he spoke about those adrenaline inducing moments, or calming again when he told you how relieved he was to return the car to the garage in one piece.
Once he’d finished speaking, you tilted your head back and looked up at Max. “I could imagine us laying here forever you know.”
He hummed in agreement, “I love being able to hold you this close to me.”
You chose not to respond as you heard how sleepy Max was, silently encouraging him to try and get a bit of rest.
It didn’t take long before you heard Max’s light snores about you letting you know that he was resting, despite your apprehension, laying on his chest had ended up being surprisingly comfortable. You weren’t sure how long you ended up laying there as you soon found yourself beginning to get sleepy on top of Max. You weren’t sure whether it was his touch, or the comfort of knowing that he was right there beside you, but something caused your body to switch. Max was out like a light, and soon enough you joined him, still squeezed on the sofa with your holds as tight as ever, making sure that nothing bad happened to the other person.
“Ouch! Oh my goodness!”
“Babe? What’s wrong?”
A loud groan came from you as you felt the edge of the coffee table hit against your back before landing on the floor with a thud. Your hands rubbed the sleep out of your eyes as you tried to figure how in a matter of moments you had gone from comfortably laying on top of Max to find yourself laid out on the living room floor, pain shooting through you.
Max jolted upright as soon as he heard your voice, cringing as he looked down at you on the floor. Your expression told him everything, pressing your hand into the small of your back where the pain was at its worst.
“Love, I’m so sorry. Are you alright? Tell me where it hurts…please,” Max whispered, pushing himself off of the sofa and joining you on the floor, pulling you into his side.
“Damn,” you sighed, biting down on the inside of your lip, struggling to come to terms with what had happened. It didn’t take long for Max to place his hand where your pain was coming from in an attempt to ease it for you.
“Do you need to get checked out? Does it hurt anywhere else?” Max questioned, the panic strong in his voice as his eyes darted to check you properly.
Your head shook, letting Max take a moment to check for himself that you really were alright, covering every last bit of your body.
“Just my pride, it’s taken a bit of a dent,” you tried to joke, bringing the faintest of smiles to Max’s face. “I think my head brushed against the side of the table, but somehow I just about managed to miss it.”
Max doesn’t look as certain as you though.
“Come on, I think a proper bed might help me to feel better.”
Max is still doubtful as you rise to your feet, refusing to let you do anything alone. He could tell from the feeling in his arms that he must’ve gotten tired, ultimately letting go which led to you rolling off of him and ending up in a bundle on the floor.
“Do you think you might be concussed or something?”
“Max, love, I promise that my head didn’t hit anything, I’ll be alright.”
He wants to nod and assure that you he understands, but he knows exactly what you’re like. He’s lost count of how many times you’ve pretended in front of him to stop him from worrying, not wanting thoughts of you to cloud him when he has so many other things to think about, especially when it came to his career.
Max is with you every step of the way as you walk into the bedroom of your hotel, encouraging you to move as slowly as possible. Only when you’re laid out does he finally begin to relax a little.
As soon as he’s there beside you, you’re rolling across and tucking yourself back into him again. First your leg drapes over him, then your arm, and soon enough you’re pushing your entire frame on top of him.
“Do you really want to do this?” Max questioned, reluctantly placing his arms around you, his voice shaky and filled with concern.
“I think I might be a little bit safer laying in a big double bed rather than the sofa,” you assured Max, keeping your grip on him nice and tight so that he had no choice but to let you stay there.
Max wanted to protest, but there was no way he could argue with his injured girl. “Why do you like this so much.”
The answer was easy for you, it was the one thing that you loved more than anything.
You loved the warmth that it brought you, the comfort, and the way it made your heart race. Above all else, you loved how it always made you fall a little bit more in love with Max every single time.
“Your cuddles always feel like home.”
“Really?” Max asked in surprise, never quite imaging you to feel that way. “If that’s the case, I guess I better let you lay here on my chest for the night, right?”
“I won’t be arguing if you do,” you chuckled, finally feeling Max relax underneath you after your little incident.
Max is still a little wary, he can’t help but fret about you. But having you right there where he can keep an eye on you is the best he can ask for. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss against the very top of your head.
“I love you too,” you responded, stretching to be able to capture Max’s jawline with your lips, knowing how much of a sweet spot that sharp line was for him. His strong arms held onto you a little tighter in response, making your heart swell as you both close your eyes again, hoping that next time around you’re still laying there engulfed in each other’s arms again.
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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