#just before anyone says anything in my notes or asks

[jungwnies]

F1 Grid | valentines day

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerlc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested or not) : spending valentines day with your f1-boyfriend

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : slight suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 3927

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : happy valentines day to everyone! <3

ʚ・max verstappen

you weren’t expecting much for valentine’s day. it wasn’t that max didn’t love you—he absolutely did—but he wasn’t exactly the grand romantic gesture type. if anything, you were prepared for the day to come and go without so much as a mention.

that is, until christian horner made an offhand comment about how he was taking geri out for a fancy dinner.

“wait, valentine’s day is today?” max blurted, nearly dropping his red bull can.

lando, sitting beside him, snorted. “oh, mate—you’re so screwed.”

max bolted from his seat, leaving his engineer mid-sentence, and disappeared before anyone could even process what had happened.

you were home, lounging in one of max’s oversized hoodies, when your phone started buzzing with frantic texts from him.

max: are you home? max: never mind, you are. stay there. max: actually, don’t move. i’m coming.

you barely had time to process his sudden urgency before you heard the sound of his car pulling into the driveway at breakneck speed. moments later, he burst through the door, slightly out of breath, hair a little messy, and holding… a grocery store bouquet and a bag from a bakery down the street.

“hey,” he panted, trying to act casual but failing miserably. “happy valentine’s day.”

your eyes flicked to the half-crushed bouquet in his grip and then to the bag, which he handled like it contained the secret to world peace.

“did you forget?” you asked, crossing your arms but already grinning.

“no,” he lied. then, with a sigh, “okay, yes, but only because no one told me.”

you giggled, taking the slightly squished flowers from him. “max, the world has been advertising valentine’s day for weeks.”

“yeah, well, i don’t look at pink and red decorations and think oh, i should do something romantic,” he huffed. “but i fixed it, right?”

you peered into the bakery bag, pulling out a heart-shaped pastry, and smiled. “did you at least try it before buying?”

his face turned sheepish. “i got two. ate one on the way home.”

laughing, you tugged him down onto the couch beside you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “it’s perfect, max. i don’t need anything fancy—just you.”

his shoulders relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“… good. because i really did panic-buy the flowers,” he admitted, making you burst out laughing.

he may have been chaotic, but he was your chaos, and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

from the moment february began, you knew lewis had something planned.

it started when he casually asked you one night, his voice soft but certain, "will you be my valentine?" as if you could possibly say no.

you laughed, setting your book aside. "you're asking me like we haven't been together for years."

"i know," he grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "but you deserve to be asked properly."

and that was just the beginning.

by the time valentine's day arrived, you barely had to lift a finger.

when you woke up, there was a carefully wrapped box sitting on the edge of the bed, a note resting on top in lewis's elegant handwriting:

"good morning, my love. no need to stress about today. i have taken care of everything. wear this and be ready by seven. i will handle the rest. can't wait to see you. always yours, lewis."

you unfolded the tissue paper inside and found an outfit. the outfit. something effortlessly elegant, tailored to your style but with a touch of his own influence. he knew what would make you feel confident, comfortable, and beautiful.

a warmth bloomed in your chest. he had thought of everything.

when seven o'clock arrived, you stepped out of your room and found lewis waiting, looking devastatingly handsome in a custom suit. his eyes swept over you, appreciation lighting them up instantly.

"you look stunning," he murmured, stepping forward to take your hand.

"you picked it," you teased.

"doesn't make it any less true." he brought your fingers to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss there. "ready?"

"always."

the evening was a dream.

lewis had planned a private dinner at a breathtaking rooftop restaurant, candles flickering around you, soft jazz playing in the background. the menu had been curated just for you. your favorite dishes, a wine he knew you loved, even a dessert he had requested specifically because you once mentioned craving it months ago.

it was not just the grandeur of it all. it was him. the way he leaned in when you spoke, completely present. the way he reached across the table, tracing absentminded circles on the back of your hand. the way his eyes never left you, like he was still in awe after all this time.

"you really went all out, didn't you?" you mused, watching as he poured you another glass of wine.

lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "you deserve it. i wanted today to be perfect for you."

you smiled, heart full. "it already was the moment i woke up."

his fingers intertwined with yours, a soft look in his eyes. "i love you, you know."

"i know." you squeezed his hand. "i love you too, lewis."

and as the night carried on, filled with love, laughter, and little stolen kisses, you knew that no matter how much effort he put into the plans, what truly made the night special was simply him.

ʚ・george russell

george had been unusually secretive the past week.

nothing drastic, just little things. hushed phone calls, a knowing smirk when you asked about plans, and the way he would randomly glance at you with a quiet excitement in his eyes.

"you will see," was all he ever said.

and you did.

on valentine's day, just as the sky began to shift into soft hues of pink and orange, george pulled up to a secluded beach with a playful grin on his face.

"i thought we could do something different," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand before hopping out of the car.

your eyes drifted over the shoreline, the gentle waves rolling in, and the salty breeze kissing your skin. there was no extravagant setup, no overwhelming display. just the sound of the ocean, the warmth of the setting sun, and george beside you, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

"you planned this?" you asked, smiling as he grabbed a picnic basket from the backseat.

"of course," he said proudly. "i wanted something simple, just us. no distractions, no cameras, no fancy restaurants. just this."

your heart swelled as he led you to a cozy spot where he had set up a blanket in the sand, the basket filled with your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine.

as you sat together, watching the waves roll in, george draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "i know it is not much, but i wanted today to be about you and me, not some over-the-top production."

you looked up at him, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "it is perfect, george."

his lips curved into a soft smile before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "good. because there is nowhere else i would rather be than here with you."

the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the distant sound of the waves lulling you into a peaceful state. at one point, george pulled out his phone and played a song quietly through the speaker, a mellow tune that matched the peaceful ambiance of the beach.

"dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.

you let out a small laugh. "there is no music loud enough to dance to."

"we do not need loud music," he said, pulling you up anyway. "just trust me."

and so you did.

you swayed together under the dimming sky, bare feet sinking into the cool sand, his arms wrapped securely around you. it was simple. it was intimate. it was everything you never knew you needed.

as the last bit of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, george whispered, "happy valentine's day, love."

resting your head against his chest, you smiled. "happy valentine's day, george."

and in that moment, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was love in its purest form.

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos had always been charming. but tonight, he was on another level.

from the moment he picked you up, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that made him look impossibly handsome, you knew he had something special planned. his smirk was dangerous, the kind that sent warmth through your entire body.

“you look stunning, mi amor,” he murmured, leaning in just a little too close as his lips brushed your cheek. his cologne lingered, warm and intoxicating. “i almost want to skip dinner and keep you all to myself.”

you rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. “behave.”

“i make no promises,” he teased, leading you to the car.

the restaurant was one of your favorites, a cozy yet elegant spot that carlos had somehow managed to book despite its usual months-long waiting list.

the moment you were seated, he reached across the table, fingers brushing over yours as he gazed at you with that signature, lazy smirk. “i think i am already full just looking at you.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “that was terrible.”

“but did it work?” he asked, lifting your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it slowly, deliberately.

your skin tingled. “maybe a little.”

he grinned. “good.”

throughout dinner, he was extra attentive, making sure you had everything you wanted. his knee brushed against yours under the table, his voice dipped lower whenever he leaned in to whisper something just for you, and his fingers traced light patterns along your wrist whenever he held your hand.

at one point, he tilted his head, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“what?” you asked, smiling.

“nothing,” he murmured, his voice soft but deep. “i just love watching you when you are happy.”

your heart fluttered. “carlos.”

his smirk returned. “what? it is true.” he took a slow sip of his wine, eyes never leaving yours. “besides, i like to remind you how completely, hopelessly in love with you i am.”

your stomach flipped. “you are really pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?”

he leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “only because i know what it does to you.”

your breath hitched. “you are unbelievable.”

he smirked, fingers brushing over yours again. “and yet, you love me anyway.”

you sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but there was no denying the warmth spreading through your chest. “unfortunately.”

carlos chuckled, shaking his head. “i think you mean luckily.”

you looked at him, taking in the way his dark eyes burned with something deeper than just playful flirtation. beneath the teasing, beneath the smooth confidence, there was love. real, undeniable love.

and it was all for you.

as dinner came to an end, he reached for your hand again, tracing slow circles against your palm. “do you want dessert?”

you tilted your head. “are you actually talking about dessert, or is this another one of your lines?”

his lips twitched. “would you be disappointed if it was?”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “no.”

his fingers laced with yours as he brought your hand to his lips once more, voice low and full of promise.

“good.”

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles had monaco at his fingertips. it was beautiful, luxurious, and full of charm, just like him. but when valentine’s day approached, he surprised you with something unexpected.

“we are going to paris,” he had said casually over breakfast, sipping his coffee like he had not just dropped the most romantic idea possible.

your eyes widened. “paris? you live in monaco, one of the most beautiful places in the world, and you’re taking me to paris?”

he smirked, setting his cup down before leaning in. “everyone knows paris is for lovers, mon amour. and i want to spoil you properly.”

and he did.

the moment you landed, you felt the shift.

paris had its own kind of magic, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. the air smelled of fresh bread and soft rain, the streets alive with quiet charm. charles took your hand effortlessly, like he was meant to hold it, leading you through the city as if he had been born to love it, just as he had been born to love you.

the morning was slow and sweet, starting with a walk along the seine. he held your hand the entire time, stopping occasionally just to press a kiss to your temple, or to murmur something in french that he knew would make you blush.

“say something else,” you teased, smiling up at him.

he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “tu es la plus belle chose que j’ai jamais vue.”

you shivered at the way his voice dropped, the way his breath was warm against your skin. “and what does that mean?”

he smirked, tugging you just a little closer. “it means you are the most beautiful thing i have ever seen.”

your heart flipped in your chest. “you are too good at this.”

“i am only good at this because it is you.”

he spent the afternoon showing you his favorite hidden spots. a small café tucked away from the crowds, where he ordered for you effortlessly in french, his accent rolling off his tongue like silk. a bookshop near the notre-dame, where he traced his fingers over the spines of old novels, claiming he was looking for something special to remember this trip by.

“i do not need souvenirs,” he said, slipping his arm around your waist. “you are the only thing i want to remember.”

by the time evening arrived, he had one final surprise.

he took you to the eiffel tower just as the sun was setting, the sky painted in soft pinks and golds. as the lights flickered to life, he turned to you, his hands resting firmly on your waist.

“beautiful,” he murmured.

“the view?” you teased, even though you already knew the answer.

he shook his head slowly. “you.”

your breath caught in your throat as he reached for you, his lips finding yours in a slow, lingering kiss. there was no rush, no urgency. just the feeling of being completely and utterly his, surrounded by the city of love, under the lights of paris.

his hands slid to the small of your back, fingers tracing lazy circles as he deepened the kiss. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, “you taste sweeter than any wine.”

your cheeks warmed, but before you could reply, he kissed you again, this time with just a hint of teasing, just enough to make your heart race.

by the time you arrived at the hotel, paris had already left you breathless.

the suite was stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city, warm candlelight flickering against the walls, and soft rose petals scattered across the bed.

you turned to charles, who was watching you with something unreadable in his gaze. “you really thought of everything.”

his smirk was slow, deliberate. “i always do.”

you stepped closer, hands resting against his chest. “why paris?” you asked, voice soft.

his hands found your waist easily, like he had been waiting for this moment all night. “because it is the most romantic city in the world.” his voice dropped slightly, eyes darkening as he pulled you even closer. “and because i wanted to make sure you never forget tonight.”

your pulse quickened as his fingers traced slow patterns along your lower back, his lips brushing just below your ear.

“i have given you paris,” he murmured, voice warm and deep. “now, i only want to give you me.”

his lips ghosted over your skin, teasing, lingering, waiting.

the night was still young.

ʚ・lando norris

you were this close to losing it.

sitting on your couch, phone in hand, you stared at the screen, thumb hovering over lando’s contact. it was nearly eight in the evening on valentine’s day, and there had been no text, no call, no nothing.

no “happy valentine’s, love.” no “can’t wait to see you.” not even a dumb meme.

you waited all day, giving him the benefit of the doubt. maybe he was busy. maybe he had something planned. maybe he forgot.

your blood simmered at that last thought. oh, if he forgot…

you hit the call button, heart pounding as it rang. once. twice. straight to voicemail.

“oh, hell no.”

you stood up, pacing the living room, preparing the argument in your head. you would start off calm. hey, babe, just wondering if you forgot a certain very important day? then you’d get passive-aggressive. wow, imagine forgetting your girlfriend exists. and if he dared to laugh, you would go full dramatic mode. maybe i should date someone who actually remembers i exist. maybe oscar piastri wouldn’t forget.

but before you could dial again, the doorbell rang.

you blinked, still mid-rant in your head. slowly, you walked over, swinging the door open, fully prepared to go off—

and there he was.

lando stood on your doorstep, slightly out of breath, holding entirely too many things at once. a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a bag of takeout from your favorite restaurant, a small wrapped box, and a guilty, breathless grin on his face.

"hi," he said sheepishly, eyes twinkling.

you crossed your arms, biting back a smile. "you forgot, didn’t you?"

his jaw dropped in mock offense. "never!"

you gave him a pointed look. "then why do you look like you just ran a marathon?"

"because someone’s favorite restaurant takes forever to prepare food," he said, stepping inside as you moved aside. he held up the takeout bag like a trophy. "i have been standing in line for an hour. an hour, babe. do you know how many people are out there trying to get last-minute valentine's dinners? it’s war out there."

you snorted, shaking your head. "you could’ve at least texted me, lando. i was this close to picking a fight with you."

"believe me, i know," he muttered, placing everything down on the table. "i saw the missed call and almost died because i knew you were about to go nuclear on me."

you rolled your eyes as he unwrapped the takeout, the smell filling the room instantly. he grinned at your reaction, knowing full well how much you loved it.

"see?" he said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. "you thought i forgot, but really, i was just out here being the best boyfriend ever."

you raised an eyebrow. "you sure about that?"

he smirked. "mostly."

you shook your head, but when he grabbed a flower from the bouquet and tucked it gently behind your ear, your heart melted just a little.

"you do look really cute when you're mad, though," he added, grinning.

"lando," you warned, but he just laughed, pulling you onto the couch with him.

as you both started eating, he kept sneaking little bites of your food, dodging your half-hearted swats, grinning every time he managed to steal some.

"you're literally eating the same thing," you huffed.

"yeah, but yours tastes better."

"you are insufferable."

"and yet, here you are," he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. "still mad at me?"

you sighed dramatically, resting your head against him. "i mean… i was really looking forward to yelling at you."

he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i know. next time, i’ll text you, my bad."

"next time?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

he winked. "next time i make you think i forgot."

you gasped, smacking his arm as he burst into laughter, dodging you like an overgrown child.

eventually, you both settled down, tangled together on the couch, sharing food, jokes, and soft kisses in between.

and despite all your earlier frustration, you realized you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

ʚ・oscar piastri

valentine’s day was meant to be easy this year.

no over-the-top plans, no rushing to a fancy restaurant, no stress about whether a reservation would fall through. just you and oscar, a quiet night in, and the simple comfort of being together.

you had both agreed on it weeks ago, sitting in bed one night when he casually asked, “so, what do you wanna do for valentine’s?”

you had shrugged, leaning against him. “something simple. movies, dinner at home, just us.”

his response had been instant. “perfect.”

and now, as you stood in the kitchen, stirring the sauce for dinner while music played softly in the background, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

oscar walked in, freshly showered, his hair still damp as he leaned against the counter, watching you with a lazy smile.

“you need help?” he asked, even though you both knew the answer.

“you just want an excuse to mess around,” you teased, throwing him a knowing glance.

he gasped in mock offense. “i would never.”

raising an eyebrow, you pointed at him with the spoon. “like last time, when you ‘helped’ by stealing half the ingredients and eating them before they even made it into the dish?”

he grinned unapologetically. “that was a tactical decision.”

laughing, you turned back to the stove, stirring the sauce as he moved behind you, arms sneaking around your waist. he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching over you like he was actually involved in the process.

“this is nice,” he murmured.

you smiled, leaning back against him. “told you. low-key is the way to go.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before pulling away. “alright, chef, what do i do?”

you handed him a cutting board with some vegetables to chop. “here. real help this time.”

he got to work, surprisingly efficient, only occasionally making faces at the onions like they had personally offended him.

by the time dinner was ready, the two of you set up in the living room, plates in hand, a blanket tossed lazily over your legs. the movie had barely started when you noticed oscar already halfway through his meal, focused but relaxed, like he was completely at home in this moment.

and, really, he was.

the two of you were tangled together on the couch, comfortable in the quiet moments, sneaking bites from each other’s plates, sharing knowing glances when something ridiculous happened in the movie.

at one point, he nudged you. “are you actually watching, or are you just staring at me?”

you smirked, setting your plate down. “maybe both.”

he huffed a laugh, shifting to face you fully. “well, if you’re gonna stare, at least make yourself useful.”

before you could ask what he meant, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips softly against yours. it was slow, unrushed, just like the night itself.

his hand found its way to your cheek, thumb tracing light patterns as he pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“happy valentine’s,” he whispered.

you smiled, brushing your nose against his. “happy valentine’s, oscar.”

he sighed contently, pulling you even closer as the movie played on, forgotten.

and in that moment, you realized that you didn’t need fancy dates or extravagant gestures.

because home wasn’t a place.

it was him.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ boxer!jungkook⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist closed

boxer jk x neuro doctor oc

post fight vibes

meet cute

note: possibly a mini series but idk

after his home and the ring; jungkook's third home is the hospital.

yet, one thing he will never get used to are the bright lights. 

fuck. 

they’re always so fucking bright.

it doesn’t matter if he’s in for nearly busting his brain or if he’s just here for a casual IV drip—each time, the lights are insanely bright.

the hospital room is too white too. 

too sterile for someone like him.

his eyes flicker down to his knuckles. they’re split and bruised, resting against his stomach, rising and falling with each slow breath. his lip is cut, swollen at the corner, and when he rolls his shoulders back, he winces—just slightly—like he's trying not to show it.

suddenly, the doors burst open and his head turns towards it. 

you walk in. 

navy blue scrubs, white doctors coat, and your hair is tied high and back. 

it’s… love at first sight. 

your cheeks are so perfect. that’s the first thing he notices about you. they have this puff that makes him wonder if anyone has ever complimented you on them. next, are your lips. they’re perfectly shaped—so kissable. maybe he’s just that fucked in the head but everything about you looks so perfect. like your eyes are the exact size they need to be. you button nose where your glasses sit so cutely… 

god help him. 

maybe he got beat up a little too much this match. 

jungkook swallows drly as you approach him. you pull out the scans and show him on the monitor. you glance at them and then at him. for a moment, you’re silent and he doesn’t know if he should be saying anything. 

should he introduce himself? 

better yet, can you introduce yourself?

"you're concussed," you say simply.

jungkook blinks at you, like he was expecting more. 

"that bad?"

"you've had worse." you say it simply as you click on the monitor and pull out old scans from months ago. your eyes widen as you look through the ones from the past 3 years. pausing at one scan from 2019, you use your pen to gesture around the areas where he’s been concussed before. “this old one? probably your worst one.” 

he huffs out a laugh, shifting in his seat. 

"my brain is still here, though. couldn’t have been that bad, huh?"

you don’t humor the joke. 

"debatable."

his grin widens, even through the soreness. "harsh, doctor…”

“doctor ___.” 

“___,” he breathes. “that’s pretty.”

“doctor ___.” you correct.

“right,” jungkook folds. then, the moment shifts. he can’t help but blurt; “... you sure you're not just mad you had to sub in for my usual guy?"

"not mad," you say, flipping through his chart. "just not impressed."

he laughs again, low and raspy, like this whole thing is funny. like the fractures and bruising on his scans are nothing more than a bad grade on a test.

"aren't you too young to be a doctor?"

you glance at him, raising a brow. 

"aren't you too young to have this many head injuries?"

his smile lingers, but he doesn’t say anything for a beat like he's trying to come up with a clever response. like he's trying to read you.

"did you win?" you ask instead.

"huh?"

"your fight."

his grin flickers—surprise, maybe. or amusement. 

"yeah. of course."

you nod, flipping the chart closed. 

"is it worth it?"

he tilts his head, the movement slow. calculated. like he's trying to see if you're serious. truth be told, he can’t read you. not your tone or your facial expression. it intrigues him… how could someone be so warm and so cold at the same time? you’re lukewarm… but it’s refreshing. it’s scratches his fucked up brain somehow.

"i'll tell you," jungkook muses, "if you go out with me."

you scoff. 

"that's okay."

he waits.

"some things are worth asking about," you say, pushing your chair back. you stand up and lean over to check over his vitals. as you fix his IV, you squint as you notice his knuckles. for some reason, jungkook suddenly fights to urge to reach for you. his fingers twitch. you see it. you brush it off and say; "some things aren't worth the answer."

you don’t miss the way his lips part slightly, his brows lifting in surprise. 

you don’t stick around to see if he has a follow-up. you grab your clipboard and head towards the door. as you push the door open to leave, you bid him goodbye. 

"rest up, mr. jeon."

the next time jungkook is back, it's not you.

"dr. ___ isn’t in today?" jungkook asks, trying to sound… anything but how it came out.

namjoon doesn’t look up from his notes. 

“you met her?”

“yeah,” he breathes. “can’t get her out of my head ever since.”

namjoon chuckles as he takes out his slit lamp and examines jungkook’s eye movement. as jungkook’s eyes follow the light, nam joon continues;

"why’s that?”

“dunno,” jungkook confesses. 

namjoon can’t take jungkook seriously. he’s never been the type to care about girls since they’ve always come to him one way or another… but knowing you, he should’ve known jungkook would take interest. 

“miss her or something?" nam joon teases. “love at first concussion?”

“not my first concussion… and i was just wondering. shit, man.” jungkook shrugs, trying to move past it. suddenly, he’s embarrassed. 

namjoon hums, like he doesn’t believe him (because he doesn’t).

"she doesn't date patients," namjoon says, flipping a page and writing down notes from jungkook’s checkup. "definitely not ones with a brain like yours."

jungkook blinks. "is it that bad?"

namjoon grins. "she spends her days saving patients who get injured unwillingly. you? boxing? that's a choice. you're her least favorite kind of patient."

"but am i her type?"

namjoon laughs and shakes his head. 

"your brain is fucked up."

when jungkook’s checkup finishes, he says goodbye to namjoon and exits the room. 

then, like fate, he sees you in the hall when he's leaving. you're walking in the opposite direction, clipboard tucked against your hip, eyes scanning over charts.

jungkook doesn’t think. 

he moves.

jungkook catches up to you and taps your shoulder. as you turn your head to respond, he steps forward and in front of you instead. suddenly, you face him.

"you."

you blink up at him, unimpressed. "me."

"i'm not concussed anymore."

"i'm glad,” you smile at him softly before you lower your gaze back to your charts. “have a good day mr. jeon—"

"i won that match," he says, like it's important. like it means something.

you pause.

"i'm a good boxer," he continues, standing taller. "i don’t get injured that much. when you saw me last… i let the guy get in a few hits. whatever… it was for show, i swear to god… but if you go out with me, i promise to always win and never get a head injury ever again."

you stare at him.

he waits.

you exhale, shifting your clipboard to the other hand. then, before he can say anything else, your fingers push into his hair, ruffling it gently.

his breath hitches.

you drop your hand and step past him.

"i think you're still a little concussed," you murmur. 

“i’m not,” jungkook says, voice soft. “one chance.”

you tilt your head at him and for a moment, you really contemplate. his lip looks almost healed. his knuckles are only bruised now… for a moment, you want to give in. 

“do you ever lose?”

he scoffs. “no.”

you nod and begin to slip away. jungkook stands there confused at the growing distance. as you walk away, you tell him; 

“maybe you should learn how to.”

“why? so you can feel better about rejecting me?"

jungkook tilts his head, lips twitching. he lifts his foot to move to you but you shake your head at him. he stops his tracks. cutely, you mimic him and tilt your head too, feigning sympathy. 

"no, so you stop getting concussed."

he grins, sharp and easy. "i told you, i don't get injured that much."

"right… just enough to keep me employed."

his laughter comes quick, like he wasn't expecting that. 

"damn," he mutters, shaking his head. "you got a sharp tongue, doc."

you exhale through your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you’ve given him, and start toward the door. with one hand, you wave him off, like he’s not worth the breath it takes to keep talking.

but just before you step out, jungkook hears you murmur over your shoulder—low, teasing, like you’re indulging him for just a second longer.

"good thing you’re used to taking hits, jeon."

jungkook’s smile lingers long after you’ve disappeared down the hall. for a moment, he contemplates on running after you and continuing to annoy you… and then, for the nth time today… he thinks. 

he’ll be back. 

injured or not—he’s coming back just for you.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

i meant to finish this some time ago 😭 but anyway, back on my bodyguard rotting! special tag for @crushmeeren because i think i put this in ur inbox a while ago and never got around to it lol, anyway here it is. nsfw under divider, f! reader for that part 🤍🫧

bodyguard! eijiro, who has a smile just like sunshine. who has a dopey grin and the personality of a golden retriever. who, on paper, doesn’t sound like he’d be capable of even hurting a fly- until you see his rock hard muscles peaking through his shirt, or the jagged edges of his skin after activating his quirk. who, 90% of the time, is so sweet its tooth rotting. the other 10% of the time, he’s a nightmare to whoever threatens you.

bodyguard! eijiro, who genuinely loves his job. he’s level-headed and rational, able to solve most disputes with some talking or light physical action. who can’t complain, because after all, most of his day is being around a funny, beautiful person- so who cares if he has to rough up a guy for cutting you off or being too touchy? he’s happy to do it.

bodyguard! eijiro, who takes ‘doing anything to protect you’ and makes it ‘doing anything for you.’ don’t feel like driving? he’s got it. have a very specific craving at 2 in the morning? no questions asked. he’s also attentive, noting your mannerisms or idiosyncrasies that make you, you. he may not say it, but he knows those subtle signs of burn out, or anxiety, or exhaustion. as much as his job is to protect you from external threats, he cares just as much- if not more- about protecting your happiness.

bodyguard! eijiro, who is the best person to bring to bars or clubs. the first reason being that you’d trust him if you were hanging off a ledge, but the second being that he’s just may be the funniest, most charming guy you’ve ever met. who doesn’t even realize how attractive it is, the way he can make you lose your breath with laughter while maintaining an iron grip on your drink, placing his hand on your waist and protectively eyeing anyone who’s eyes seem a little too stuck on you for his liking.

bodyguard! eijiro, who asks if its okay if he take the two of you back to his place because its closer, and because he secretly doesn’t want the night to end. who sees your shoes by the door, coat laying on his couch, and you unwinding in his washroom and feels a little pang in his heart. who knows his feelings well and knows damn well by now he has a crush, but keeps it professional. until you can’t hold it in any longer and tell him how bad you have it for him. by then, he’s throwing you over his shoulder and towards his bedroom.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.*

bodyguard! ejiro, who is just as sweet as he is rough. who will tug off your clothes (shredding them if he has to) and apologetically kiss the bare skin underneath. who has sharp teeth, and won’t hesitate to sink them in even if you tear up a little. who manhandles you, tossing you around on the bed like its nothing, whispering: “you like this position, baby?” “let me know what feels good.” meanwhile, he’s folding you like origami.

bodyguard! eijiro, who loves your tits. who can’t resist grabbing himself a handful once he gets your bra off, captivated by the way the jiggle and spring free. who can be a little mean, pinching and twisting your nipples before taking one in his mouth. who makes sure you feel his razor sharp teeth graze the sensitive bud, alternating between the two, giving each the same amount of love and attention. who releases them with a slight pop! deciding he wants to taste more of you.

bodyguard! eijiro, makes sure your comfortable before going down on you like he’s starving. on any other day, he’d ease into it- slowly kissing, soft licks and light sucking- but who has waited so long to do this he hopes you’ll forgive his impatience. who makes sure your thighs wrap around his head, eating your pussy out like its his last meal. who literally will not move from between your legs until you make him, telling him that you’re already dizzy with pleasure.

bodyguard! eijiro, who smirks a little when he pulls his boxers down, letting his cock spring free, seeing your eyes widen and your cheeks blush. who, quite frankly, knows he’s big, but also knows how to use it. who takes your thighs and folds you in half, giving him a better view. who’ll run the tip of his cock through your folds, hearing your whines and feeling it go straight to his dick. who meets no resistance finally pushing himself inside you, moaning in unison when he feels your pretty walls taking him in.

bodyguard! eijiro, who has god-like stamina. who makes that skin slapping noise he knows drives you insane, grunting and moaning when he feels himself reach mind-meltingly deep inside you. who wrecks your pussy and praises you while he’s doing it: “taking me so good, ah.” “making me feel so good, princess? shit, i’m not stopping anytime soon.” who makes a mental note to himself that he’ll probably run out the next morning to grab you plan b.

speaking of which… bodyguard! eijiro, who slows down just a little, asking you where you want him to finish. who could cum right then and there when you tell him you don’t want him pulling out, to which he’s more than happy to oblige. who feels his orgasm coming, but draws out yours as much as possible- massaging your tits, kissing you deep, rubbing little circles on your clit. who makes sure he’s buried deep when he feels you cum, groaning as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock. who pumps in and out a few more times before collapsing down beside you. who, 2 seconds later, gets up to grab you water or ice, but who can’t resist when you pull him back into bed, vowing to deal with the soreness as long as he’s next to you.

bodyguard! eijiro, who is more than happy to carry you around everywhere the next morning, returning back to his jovial green like he didn’t just rearrange your organs the night before. <3

[hivemuthur]

Hi! Thank you so much for your beautiful work!! I hope it’s okay to make a silly little request

So I’m in my 20s (late 20s I might add) but I’ve never ever even kissed anyone yet and I kinda really want to so… Would you consider writing modern au!Viktor with a virgin!f!reader? Something about a first kiss or maybe having sex for the first time or first relationship..? Anything first in general 👉👈

Anon, I am beating my chest that it took so long and hope that you will get a notification that it is published (I sometimes don't when I ask anon questions). I was a late bloomer myself and it has some massive advantages. Though I hope you get to kiss someone nice soon!

First Rites

viktorxfemale!virgin!reader mature, kissing and making out :)

author’s note: Nothing smart to say here, really, other than I will probably write a part two of this :') @rennethen beta read!

word count: 1,8K

—

Your eyes sweep over Jayce’s tongue on Mel’s before you catch yourself staring. And even that doesn’t stop you. You analyse the movement of their hands, the way Jayce’s hips press into Mel’s, memorising all the smacking sounds they try to muffle into gentle giggles, hoping that you and Viktor are doing a decent job of not looking. When in reality, it’s the exact opposite.

It always goes the same way: the clack of heels echoing through the corridor outside the lab already has Jayce perking up. He grunts, clears his throat, and gets up slowly to avoid raised eyebrows and Viktor stating the obvious, like, “I guess this means you’re off for the day?”

Then, Jayce gives an apologetic smile and strolls toward the door, opening it before Mel can even knock. He exchanges a shy, stupid, cheek-reddened “Hi” for her sultry, thick “Hi yourself.” Their greetings die somewhere in their mouths when their lips meet in a first hello kiss. That one doesn’t last very long—soon, it shifts into an I missed you kiss. That lingers before melting into an I want you kiss or an I’d rather eat you than dinner kiss. And those are your favourites.

Even when you try very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss might follow that, you can’t help yourself. You end up blushed and flustered, your mind spinning with curiosity.

So you stare—impolitely, some might say—but for you, it’s research. You study and memorise, committing their courtship to memory so you can replay the scene later, your fingers wandering over your own lips as you imagine what it would be like. To have someone’s lips on yours, someone’s tongue in your mouth. It doesn’t sound all that appealing or hygienic, but it looks fantastic. It makes you feel a very much welcomed weirdness in your chest and belly, and having nothing else to supplement those feelings with, you just outright stare.

“It’s quite rude, if you ask me,” Viktor’s voice cuts through your thoughts just as Mel lets out a small, startled sound at Jayce’s hand cradling the back of her neck.

“Uh, I know. They should take it somewhere else, really,” you whisper back, but your tone is far from condemning. You say it absentmindedly, your eyes still glued to their mouths, chin propped on your hand, your scribbling abandoned the moment Jayce stood up.

“I meant your intense staring. But yes, such activities should be performed outside of work areas,” Viktor mumbles, not looking up from his notes.

Your blush deepens into an intense red hue as you finally look away and cover your face with your hand.

“Oh, I um… I didn’t mean to, it’s just—”

“All right, we’re off! Don’t work too hard while I’m gone!” Jayce’s beaming laughter cuts you off. Before you or Viktor can reply with a snarky comment, he sweeps Mel by the waist, and they disappear into the hallway. The sound of Mel’s giggle and the uneven click of her heels on the stone floors make you wonder if Jayce is kissing her neck or pressing her against a wall.

“It’s just?” Viktor insists, finally looking at you, his face forming an unamused expression.

“Nothing. It’s just nothing,” you respond quickly, picking up your pen with a shaky hand. You force yourself back to scribbling, even though your handwriting comes out ragged, suffering from both the excitement and the fear of Viktor’s prying eyes. But you do it anyway, desperate for any kind of shield.

“It does not look like nothing,” Viktor pushes, rotating in his chair to face you fully. You deepen your hunch, almost pressing your nose into the paper. How mortifying.

“I understand the concept of unrequited attraction, but you should really do yourself a favour and quit this self-flagellating practice of ogling every time Mel picks him up. It doesn’t lead to anything beneficial and impacts your focus,” Viktor drones, his nasal tone close to scolding.

You feel so scrutinised that you don’t even bother to correct his misunderstanding of your habit. You just sigh and continue your fake note taking.

“Trust me, I would know,” Viktor adds.

That catches your attention. How would he know anything about what you’re going through?

“Whatever do you mean by that?” you ask, keeping your face turned toward your notes, though your eyes wander to glance at him. He looks… unhappy? Mildly irritated? Annoyed at your lack of shame and focus?

“I am merely stating that lusting after someone out of reach is, at best, futile and, at worst, a path to ruin. For your own good, I would refrain from such practices,” Viktor says quietly.

You blink a few times as the words settle in your mind. He thinks I’m in love with Jayce? Lusting after him? It’s almost funny when you think that what you’ve been doing is in fact, just lusting.

“I can assure you, I am not attracted to Jayce. Or Mel, for that matter. I just—”

“Oh?” Viktor’s head snaps up so fast it surprises even him. He internally scolds himself for the involuntary reaction, but the undeniable punch of hope makes him lose control of his body for a moment. His pupils are wide, his brows lifted all the way to his forehead. “You’re not?”

“Uh, no,” you sigh, finally turning to face him properly. Your head dips as embarrassment weighs you down, but maybe admitting it will make it easier to carry. “I’m just… collecting research. For whenever I’ll have the opportunity. If ever. I mean, it’s not like I’ve ever—”

“What?” Viktor’s voice comes out too sharp. Shit. He scowls at himself—internally, of course—for how poorly he masked his shock. Way to be sensitive.

You wince, sinking deeper into yourself.

“Oh. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to… offend you,” he says carefully, trying not to sound too excited. His hand hovers over your knee while he calculates whether it would be proper to comfort you with a gentle touch. If you would like that. If you would like him to touch you.

But before he can decide, you turn back to your side of the desk, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not that easy to offend. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with. I’m a bit… too old for that, you know.”

And as if having a mild upper hand in this situation pumps Viktor with extra courage, he twists your chair back and rolls it close to his, until the sides of your thighs touch. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, then. I actually mean for the opposite of that,” he breathes and allows himself to glance over your lips, briefly. But you notice.

“Viktor?” you whisper, feeling an invisible force pulling you closer to his face. His arm extends over your legs, gripping the edge of your seat, and you feel the mild heat radiating off his body. You can smell his scent lingering in the space between you as you indulge in small glances at his eyes and lips.

“If you allow me, I could provide you with… some hands-on experience. Unless, of course, I am not—”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, and Viktor exhales into a relieved smile. He mumbles an “okay,” as if bracing himself, and closes the little distance left between you. His mouth presses against yours almost innocently as he takes your upper lip between his. His lips are soft and warm. It’s a long, lingering peck that has your eyes fluttering shut and a pool of heat blooming in your belly. You find yourself leaning into the kiss, your hips on the edge of the chair, to the point that your chests almost press against each other.

When he disconnects from you, it’s only to breathe against your mouth, “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” you say shakily, your lips brushing his. You open your eyes only to see a pretty pink blush splattered across his cheeks and ears. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when he asks, “Would you like me to continue?”

“Please, continue,” you exhale, and something glints in Viktor’s eyes. Emboldened by your enthusiasm, he slides the hand gripping the stool to the back of your seat, pulling you closer until you can almost feel the flutter of his heart against yours as your chests meet. His other hand cradles the back of your neck, and oh, it’s the same gesture Jayce granted Mel that you’ve longed for so dearly, and you feel your skin prickling under Viktor’s touch.

His mouth is back on yours, this time the press is firmer, as he parts your lips with his tongue and—oh. Just oh, as your eyebrows knit together and the warmest of feelings floods your chest, making your hands jolt out to fist his vest, and you sigh the sweetest of sounds into his mouth. And he doesn’t stop there—the hand from the chair slides up your side, rests on your ribcage, fingers digging in when he—oh—also makes a sound. The hottest of sounds, a honey-dripping moan that makes you bite his lower lip, craving to eat him up with a long spoon.

And when he loses himself a bit—grunts and sighs into you, his hands wandering to rest at the base of your spine and cradle your cheek in a firm grip—you don’t even know how it happens, but you slide your hips to straddle his and press yourself down on him. To your delight, he has many more of those pretty sounds, some even forming something close to your name, making you melt into his arms.

When he pulls away, it’s only for an inch. “Oh, my,” Viktor mutters, rubbing his face against yours and kissing your neck. You like that too, but you already miss his hot tongue in your mouth. “A natural talent, I see,” he chuckles, and you blush even more at the thought of what he would say if he knew how much practice you’ve done on the crook of your fist alone in your room.

He looks up at you, all flustered and pretty, swiping his thumb across your glistening lip. He doesn’t know what’s come over him when he says, “If you wish to explore this further, I can offer my… expertise.” What he wants to say is that he’s been thinking about this too many times to count, leaving him flustered and pretty countless times before, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. So he just keeps looking at you expectantly, willing his mouth to shut.

“I would like that,” you mutter shyly, noticing how Viktor’s chest sags with relief. To think that he was there, willing and within your reach all this time makes you feel silly for all those times you stared at Jayce and Mel longingly. And you’re convinced you’ll continue to watch them—not with longing, but with anticipation for when they finally stroll off to their date, so you can sink your lips onto Viktor’s.

[numinousher]

AROUND ME ── zayne.

SUMMARY… let him say a few words before you go out

AUTHOR’S NOTE… was listening to darte un beso by prince royce and so here it is

CONTAINS… dirty talk (kinda), zayne down bad he wants to devour you

Zayne was a gentleman through and through.

He loved relishing in the fact that he had manners and he could exceed expectations, that he knew he could treat his lover with gentleness they needed in their chaotic life, and he loved knowing that despite his flaws, he could love with his entire being without it being an issue.

But he had his needs like anyone else. Especially when he sees you wrapped in a pretty tight dress that you bought with his card—he insisted on you doing so.

It was snug, it was tight, it was short, though not too short. You could still bend down and not be exposed, which you had tested out to tease him and so he could see. After all, your comfortability was the top priority.

“Does it look pretty?” You asked, staring at yourself in the mirror you had installed in the corner of your shared room. You looked at him through the mirror once you heard nothing but silence from him.

He was leaning back on the palms of his hands, his tie undone, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, and his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked so delicious manspreading on the edge of the bed looking at you as if he could devour you.

As always though, he contained himself as best as he could. You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger, he wasn’t sure how long he could contain himself.

He lifted his lips a little, adjusting himself, as he cleared his throat. “You look beautiful.”

“Not me, silly,” you lightly giggled. You fixed the sleeves of your dress and the neckline of it since it was an off-shoulder dress. “I feel like it would look better with a necklace, right?”

He tilted his head back to look at you. He eyed your figure up and down, eyeing the way your thighs just called to him. God, he was such a gentleman but the things he wanted to do to you in front of the mirror was anything but. He wanted to bend you over the bed, to have you, take you, devour you, taste you, and fill you up until you could feel him for days. He felt himself shudder in need at the sensation.

You turned to face him once he stayed quiet again.

“Zayne?” You called out, catching his attention. He hummed in response, still staring at you. “I’m asking you a question.”

At your little whine, a small chuckle escaped his lips. He patted his lap. “Come here,” he muttered. You happily obliged and did so. He wrapped an arm around your waist and the other stayed perched on your soft legs draped over his thighs. “You look beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Of course, angel,” he whispered, placing kisses on your bare shoulder.

“It’s not too much?”

“No, never,” he continued to speak in a low tone. “Nothing’s ever too much. It’s perfect. God…” he picked your hand up and placed kisses on your knuckles and trailed them up to your shoulder. He then left them on the nape of your neck, your scent invading his nose. “So beautiful. Just beautiful.”

“Zayne.”

“You make me lose my patience,” he lowly spoke into your ear as he softly moaned at feeling your flesh. You were so warm and soft. “I want you in a way I didn’t know I could want somebody. Your face, your body… you truly are a vision.”

“Ugh, marry me already,” you huffed, rather amused at his reaction.

He moved you so you could straddle him and placed his rather soft palms on your thighs that were resting on either side of his hips. He ran them up and down.

“You want a pretty ring?” He softly asked, his fingers moving up to bring down the dress that was rising on your shoulder. You nodded. “You know I’ll give you the moon if you ask me to, I’ll get you that pretty ring, okay? I’ll give it to you because you want it and because I want it.”

His lips went to your cheek, softly kissing you there and the corner of your lip. “Be my beautiful bride. Mine. Share my last name and have me because I’m yours aren’t I?” You placed a hand on your jawline, tilting your head up so you could make direct eye contact with him. “Aren’t I?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you said in a hushed voice, almost as if you were sharing a secret.

“And I will gladly give myself to you,” he continued to spew in a tone so gentle a shiver ran down your spine. “I already do but, the thought of being your husband…” he inhaled and exhaled as if the new title excited him. And it did. “Not even Heaven itself can take me away from you. I’m yours forever you hear me?”

You nodded as he looked into your eyes, his nose gently bumping itself onto yours. His breath fanned over your lips as he spoke.

“Say it. Say I’m yours forever.”

“You’re mine forever,” you whispered.

“And I love you, with my entire being,” he hummed. He softly pecked your lips before taking off his glasses in a hurry and placing them on the nightstand. He grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. “I’ll give you anything. Anything you want.”

You giggled into the kiss. “I’m just gonna go out with friends.”

”Go and have some fun,” he said, kissing you. “Go and eat, laugh, and enjoy your time. I’ll be home waiting until you’re back in my arms and I can take you, I can be inside you…” his chest heaved up and down rapidly, his breath picking up. “I can make you cum until your legs are quivering and trembling and the only word you know how to utter out of those pretty lips is my name.”

You let out a small gasp at his choice of words.

“Zayne—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he said in between kisses. “Let me savor you before you have fun.”

You let him do so and the two of you continue making out until Tara calls you. Even when she does so, though, Zayne continues kissing your neck, leaving behind some marks here and there. It’s not a lot, but if you flipped your hair over your shoulder, the marks would be visible.

“I’m here!” Tara exclaimed rather excitedly.

“Okay, okay, just give me 5 minutes to put on my heels,” you smiled as you stood up.

Zayne followed after, grabbing your heels and kneeling down in front of you. You continued to speak to Tara about the restaurant you were heading with your other friends as Zayne fixed the straps of your heels. He kissed your ankles before standing up.

“You’re good to go, beautiful,” he whispered, leading you towards the front door as you hung up. You grabbed your purse and watched as he took out his card. “Remember, if your friends are drinking, let me know and I’ll pick you guys up, okay?” You nodded and he leaned down to kiss you. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you,” you smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you.” As you began to walk towards Tara’s car waiting by the front gate, he grabbed your forearm and brought you closer to him. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Don’t drink too much. I want you sober so you can feel my tongue tasting you. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll allow you to cum.”

He gave you one last kiss on the forehead before he let you go. You gulped and walked away, your body heating up with desire.

Tara waved at him. “Bye, Zayne! I’ll take care of her!”

He briefly waved, leaning against the doorway as he watched you. He smiled to himself before walking inside.

You cleared your throat and got inside the car, fixing your dress.

“Girl, you okay?”

“Fine.”

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ of shadows and sins - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Y/n was handpicked by their boss to help the recruiter find new players. However, it was obvious that the man wouldn’t like the girl assisting him, constantly belittling her and mentioning how weak and unqualified she was for the job. But in reality, he knew about her influence and was afraid of being replaced.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ The Salesman x Female Reader (British)

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Typical Squid Game elements—blood, weapons, death, etc. Age gap: the reader is between 24-25 years old, while the recruiter is 40. Some angst and feelings of loneliness. The reader lives in Korea but is not Korean; she is British.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Note: Hi loves! I’m making a short series about the salesman. I hope you all like it! English isn’t my first language, so there may be mistakes���sorry about that!

next part here ! 🤍

You sighed as you watched your coworker fail once again. The man he was trying to talk to didn’t care at all and walked right past him. You just sighed, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms, leaning against the metro wall near the stairs.

The recruiter began walking in your direction with his chin held high, a proud—or perhaps wounded—expression on his face, and you laughed at his frustration.

“What happened, Mr. ‘I-can-do-everything’?” you teased. He simply walked past you, heading up the station stairs.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and you chuckled, following behind.

“Did you manage to do anything at all?” he asked as soon as he noticed you catching up on the stairs.

“While you wasted time talking to one man, I got four. All of them on the verge of bankruptcy—desperation was almost funny, I nearly felt bad for them.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your beige trench coat. “With their financial struggles and my pretty face, did you really think they wouldn’t accept?” You smirked, stopping in front of him and framing your face with your hands as if showing off.

He simply walked past you, bumping your shoulder.

“You’re so full of yourself, seriously… What’s even fun about your game? No one actually likes Gonggi that much,” he scoffed.

You just shrugged. “That’s what I was told to do. And your job isn’t that exciting either, right? At least mine is getting results. Yours, on the other hand…” You glanced up at the sky as you stepped out of the train station—it was already nighttime.

“Can you shut up for a single minute? I already have to deal with you all the time. For the love of—just stop talking, girl,” he snapped.

You simply looked at him, already used to his sudden outbursts.

“Oh, baby, don’t be sad. Tomorrow will be your day, and you’ll manage to recruit some people. Besides, aren’t you the boss’s impeccable, invaluable favorite recruiter?” You pouted playfully, stopping in front of him again, this time by your car. You cupped his face in your hands, only for him to push them away and roll his eyes.

“I’m not arguing with a brat… Why don’t you just go back to your family?” he said, setting his black suitcase down and rubbing his chin. “Oh, right. I forgot. You don’t have anyone because no one can stand you. Your parents abandoned you, and your fiancé cheated on you…”

He spoke slowly, and when his gaze met yours, he noticed a brief flicker of vulnerability—but you quickly masked it with a smile.

He almost felt bad for you. Almost. But he didn’t regret saying it, and he would do it again if necessary.

“Whatever. Family is just a burden. I don’t need anyone, and I can live just fine on my own. Besides, maybe you should be worried, huh? The boss would never have sent me to you if he didn’t think you needed help. Maybe he realized just how useless you are.” You winked and got into your car.

As you started the engine and rolled down the window, the man remained standing there, lost in his thoughts, trapped by your words.

“Hey, baby, don’t walk around alone at night. This area is dangerous,” you teased before driving off.

He simply clenched his jaw, a growing resentment bubbling inside him.

He saw you as a threat. You would never take his place.

( . . . )

When you arrived at your apartment, you tossed your keys onto the table and hung your coat in the closet. You placed your shoes inside as well before closing the door.

With a sigh, you headed straight to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the hot shower—you really needed this. The water cascaded down your body, relaxing you, and a tired sigh escaped your lips.

Your mother and father would never have been proud of the person you became, but that was their fault. They were the ones who raised you the “right” way. Any mistake was met with punishment.

You became cold, sarcastic, and quiet around others. But no one ever really knew you. No one saw the pain, the fear, or the scars you carried from a disturbing childhood.

You had a slight fear of showing emotions or affection to anyone. There was only one person you had ever felt comfortable with, but even they betrayed you. So now, you truly had no one.

That day in the alley changed your life—but you still wondered if it was for better or worse. Everything felt strange. You felt strange.

Some days, your emotions felt numb. Other days, you just wanted to break down and cry with someone. But everyone you had trusted either betrayed you or left you traumatized. You would never trust anyone again.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel, drying your hair with another. You went to your room, grabbed some pajamas from your closet, and got dressed. After brushing and drying your hair, you applied some perfume and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

One of the perks of living alone and having no friends was that you could use the guest room however you wanted—so you turned it into a library.

Once your tea was ready, you grabbed a book and headed to the balcony of your penthouse. The cold air brushed against your skin, but somehow, it didn’t bother you.

[nativegirltapes]

how the !readers got asked to be drew/rafe’s valentine ♡

notes: scrounging this up bc i’m lacking valentine’s day content :( hopefully you guys like it! also introducing a new pairing kinda…. it’s basically just the pairing from my older toxic!rafe works i posted when i first started this account but i want to bring them back! not proofread ..

angel!reader + drew — drew can’t just ask you to be his valentine, there’s always gifts involved. “i got you something.” drew said the minute you hopped in his car. it was pink and white box with red ribbon, you looked at him with a huge smile on your face, just wondering what it could be. it was the new victoria secret set and underwear you’d really been wanting with a hand written love letter and the question ‘can i be your valentine this year?’ written at the end, of course with ‘XOXO your drew’.

tp!mom!reader + drew — drew isn’t only asking you, but he’s asking baby too. it’s a few days before valentine’s day; you and baby had plans at your friends house and when you guys come home drew is stood there with all you and baby’s favorite snacks and a big paper sign with ‘be my valentine?’ written across it. it’s simple, but you love it, you’ve never been asked to be anyone’s valentine before so you feel special and sooo loved. he even got baby a little teddy bear. baby isn’t really exactly sure what’s going on but she’s got the biggest grin on her face.

sweetheart!reader + drew — they’re a little more tame …. it’s not extravagant or anything, but you feel so loved and seen. drew doesn’t go all out, but it’s still cute. it’s exactly a week before Valentine’s Day and you were heading into your crafting room, where you found a mess you didn’t remember making. but the closer you got you seen paper cutouts of letters that read ‘be my valentine?’ your jaw literally drops, “drew!” you yell, but he’s already standing in the doorway. you jump in his arms “yes!”

wag!reader + basketballplayer!drew — drew’s got the average fuck boy proposal; asking you with a big sign and rose petals on his bed. you love it though, you two have come a long way. in previous valentines he wouldn’t even talk to you during the week of valentines, afraid that maybe you’d expect something romantic from him. but this year he’s behind excited to ask you, he was even bragging to his teammates about you.

bisexual!reader + rafe — rafe doesn’t really ask you to be his valentine. it’s moreso just an agreement to hang out on the day of valentines. “you got plans on the 14th?” rafe asked, hoping you’d say no, and you did. “no, you?” you shut your phone off, you were both quietly doing your own thing while scrolling on your phones, weirdly tangled in with each others bodies; basically cuddling but neither of you ever called it that “no. you tryna come over then?” rafe asked. “yeah.”

bubbly!kook!reader + toxic!rafe — valentine’s day is always a rough time of year for you and rafe, simply because he’s always all over the place and you never know where your relationship stands. some years he’s absolutely head over heels for you, and then there’s some years where you haven’t even talked in weeks. but he shows up to your house with flowers and a bag of your favorite chips. “be my valentine?” he asks, you know you shouldn’t let him back into your life but you physically can’t stop yourself. you run into his arms and hug him, “yes rafey!”

[everdeensworld]

VDay prompts: 9&10, hotch x fem!reader (could be gen neutral, bau!reader too!) Aaron saying the dialogue

prompts: #9 “just keep your eyes closed.” “you’re not leading me to my death are you?” #10 “i hate valentine’s day, it’s pointless.” “i’m going to change your mind, go out with me.”

authors note: haha! don’t worry about it, thank you for the request!

prompt list

“i hate valentine’s day, its pointless.” being a hopeless romantic, hearing aaron say that in such confidence had urged you to change his mind.

he and been a pessimist as long as you knew him, but you knew he enjoyed holidays like christmas and halloween, the bau had always made them into a big deal, and he did have a young son, so you knew those days were very magical for kids, for his son, so therefore they were magical to him too.

but hating valentine’s day! you just could not allow it, and this was the perfect opportunity you couldn’t pass up, having feelings for your boss was taboo, but after gaining a friendship with him, it felt a little less taboo.

“i’m going to change your mind, go out with me.” you said to him in full confidence, which had caught his usually stoic self off guard, he lets out a little laugh, assuming you were just kidding.

“i’m not joking, go out with me.” you say, then clearing your throat. “if you want to that is.”

he stared down at your face trying to decipher wether or not you were really being serious, slowly his face softened. “okay, alright then, i will go out with you, you better dazzle me, i do hate valentine’s day after all.”

you smile, gleefully. “of-course, nothing less for you.”

that’s how you got to where you are now, his eyes covered with a blindfold, and you were covering that with your hand, for good measure, leading him to where you’d be having your date.

after he had agreed you had spend most your free time planning for it, you’d been hopelessly in love with aaron since you’d met him, and taking him out on valentines day could be the chance to finally have him love you back.

“do i have to have this blindfold on?” he asked with a grumble, almost stumbling over a tree stump, trying to reach up to take it off but you swat his hand away.

“just keep your eyes closed!” you tell him, in a firm voice, eliciting a soft chuckle from him.

“you’re not leading me to my death are you?” he asked, feeling you lead him down a path that was pretty narrow, he hears you let out a soft huff.

“don’t you have any faith in me aaron, you’re too— work mode.”

before he could make a witty response back, you let go of his hand and swivel around to him, “okay, we’re here, you can take off your blindfold now!”

he’s quick to take it off, deep down he knows he’d been looking forward to this, even if he claimed he hated valentine’s day, he couldn’t, not when you loved it.

his eyes searched the area, it was a little patch of grass, a few candles and a picnic blanket decked out with treats, snacks and meal foods, his eyes widened.

maybe it was high-school of him to feel like he had butterflies, it had been a while since he’d experienced anything remotely romantic.

ever since he’d lost his ex-wife, he steered clear of love, it scared him, he didn’t think that he deserved it, and he didn’t think anyone would want a man with all his baggage, not only that he had a young son.

he didn’t want to put anyone in danger, and he didn’t want to put you in danger.

the role-reversal was quite a strange feeling on his part, he’d never had someone lead him to a picnic with, blindfold on, or ask him to be their valentine so sweetly, but it was quite freeing, it made him feel liked, worthy.

not that he didn’t mind being the one to make romantic gestures, in fact, if you hadn’t been the one to ask him out, he had shamefully, got a corny valenties card with a bee on it that said ‘bee my valentine.’

after all, before you had boldly asked him out on a date, he pretended he didn’t care for valentine’s day.

he was glad he didn’t have that to show, seeing the effort you had put in for him, he would’ve looked like the world greatest asshole. “this is… wonderful.” he smiled.

“is it?” you look up at him. “i know it’s a bit.. uh, girly, i hope you don’t mind, i just thought that even men deserve to be doted on every once in a while.”

the hesitant look on your face made his heart swell, “it’s perfect, i think valentine’s day is creeping up on me..” he smirked, making you grin with excitement.

“well! now we’ve got to make you love it, i’ve got champagne, and all your favourite foods.” you say, leading him to the picnic blanket, he followed willingly.

what you didn’t know was, you’d already had him hooked on valentine’s day, he loved it, though watching you try and convince him a little bit longer wouldnt hurt.

[valiwrites]

reincarnation ✧.* formula 1

: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, people shipping drivers but nothing serious, bromance, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.

: ̗̀➛ smau

danielricciardo ✔︎

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, nicosantos and 1.3m others

danielricciardo the funniest part was... i had to held him back so he didn't murder anyone yesterday

view all 345k comments

user1 reason 727390 why daniel and nico are my fav duo

user2 showed my dad a picture of nico and he said he hasn't seen anything of senna in years i had to explain to him that this is not senna 😭

user3 my mom said that too!! but nico hates being called senna

charles_leclerc i haven't seen nico that mad ever

user4 why is the first picture so wholesome tho omg

user5 because danny is wholesome

user6 nico was ready to commit a whole crime and daniel said ✨no✨

maxverstappen1 i was lowkey scared for my life not gonna lie

user7 danny out here being the emotional support human for a guy who could probably fight god

user8 nah but the way nico looks at daniel in the vid… y’all seeing this or am i delulu

user3 the way his eyes soften when he looks at daniel is so cute

user5 y'all are so delusional he didn't even look at daniel 😭

lando nico was pacing like a dad whose kid just crashed his car 💀

user9 why does every chaotic duo have one guy who keeps the other from getting arrested

user10 danny being the only thing between nico and a felony is so on brand

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by danielricciardo, mickschumacher, lando and 3.2m others

nicosantos mood after yesterday

view all 743k comments

user1 help nico really wanted to throw hands 😭😭

nicosantos you know it

user2 nico has a cat???

user3 it's max's cat lmaoo

user4 he kinda fine

user5 i have been saying that but no one listens to me

user6 the way he just crouched by daniel’s car like it’s some kind of secret mission 💀

user7 lowkey nico should’ve been in the movie ‘mad man on the edge'

user8 no way you can look at them and not see the chemistry. it's so obvious

user9 nah, the way nico looks at daniel in that video is giving ‘you’re mine’ vibes

user10 no wtf don't say that...

user11 why do i feel like nico is totally in love with daniel and he just doesn’t know it yet?

user12 why is everyone suddently shipping them hello

user13 bc daniel hugged nico at the press conference 😭

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by lando, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 2.5m others

nicosantos ok, so we look alike. i get it. but let’s be real, i’m not him. just because we share a lot similarities doesn’t mean we’re the same person. i’ve been getting a lot of hate in my DMs, and honestly, it’s getting old. so, can we all just chill and let me live my own life? respect is all i’m asking for

view all 954k comments

user1 literally, it’s just a resemblance, relax people

user2 the hate is so uncalled for. nico deserves respect not this mess

user3 people acting like he’s actually senna’s clone, chill out

user4 he's trying really hard to be 🙄

user5 the fact that nico has to explain this is crazy. let him breathe

user6 you can’t just deny the resemblance though, it’s a little weird you’re acting like it’s nothing

nicosantos i’m not denying it, but i’m also not claiming to be someone i’m not. it’s not that complicated

user7 he’s just salty because people keep bringing up senna. get over it

user8 he doesn’t owe anyone an apology for looking like someone. leave him alone

niconews ✔︎

liked by 47k users

niconews eyes never lie... this was nico just a day after all the hate he’s been facing recently. in a raw moment during an interview, when asked, "you seem pretty pissed at the situation," he didn’t hold back. nico responded, "well, people stick their noses in everyone’s business without thinking about feelings. i didn’t ask to be born the way i am, i’m just trying to live my life." his voice cracked, and despite trying to hold it together, tears started to form. it was a moment that showed just how much this constant pressure has been affecting him. in a world where we all expect people to be perfect or fit into certain molds, nico's vulnerability spoke volumes.

view all 9k comments

user1 it's heartbreaking to see someone so kind and real get treated like this

user2 the pressure he must be under is insane. we forget these are real people

user3 this is so unfair, just let the guy breathe for once

user4 he’s literally milking the whole senna comparison for attention. stop pretending like it’s all ‘the haters’

niconews if you think that’s what this is about, you clearly missed the point

user4 he’s literally crying over people pointing out how much he looks like senna? get over it niconews it’s not about looks, it’s about respect. maybe try understanding that

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by lando, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 4.1m others

nicosantos bromance is real

tagged: lando

view all 1.4m comments

user1 aww the senna cap

user2 i love nico he's adorable

user3 lando 😭😭

user4 lando is always the funniest person in the group

user5 nico with the senna cap is a whole vibe. love the respect for the legend

user6 this is the kind of bromance we all need in our lives

user7 nico wearing the senna cap but being his own person? love that for him

nicosantos see now i can't tell if you're being sarcastic or fr 💀

user7 i was being fr 😭😭

user8 someone tell lando to stop being this extra, i can’t keep up

[luckypunklemonade]

| "I'm Going Nowhere You Won't Find Me."

[Smut MDNI 18+; Established relationship; fem!reader; 3k words] BackwardsCap! Stiles Stilinski didn't mean to worry you. Don't worry, he'll make amends.

This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.

“You could’ve gotten shot?!”

You slapped the table, standing up as Scott spouts excuses. All “I didn’t even want to go in!” and Stiles counters with “Scott found the key! And he wasn’t gonna shoot me!”

You shake your head, trying not to overreact and deciding between if it’s okay now that they’re here and safe or if you should freak out. “Are you kidding?”

Stiles followed your unsure train of thought, “Look, we talked to him, and we left. He was never really gonna shoot us.”

You brushed him off and uncomfortably kept your eyes out the window into the dark. Imagining a gun pointed at your boyfriend and his best friend was already scary, given how often it could happen. He didn’t seem to understand your anxieties being on the outside. He thought the fact that it was over would calm you down. You did, too. 

Your big issue was that he didn’t tell you he was about to enter a dangerous situation. You knew what you signed up for in being his girlfriend, but that was one of your requests. That he at least told you so you weren’t left with nothing. He promised you would never be in the dark if he could help it. It was a mutual agreement that you could help, so he’d trust you, and you’d trust him You weren’t mad, but you couldn’t articulate just how you felt. You figured you’d be able to after a night's rest and then some.

“You guys need to get home. It’s late, and your parents are probably worried and clueless.”

Scott nodded and grabbed his coat, but Stiles stood firm in front of you.

“C’mon, can we talk?”

He stepped up to you, hands sliding around your waist and asking for your attention.

You ignored the ploy, “Did you drive Scott here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get him home. It’s too late to be out in this town. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he noted the frantic tone in your voice, emphasized by how much you knew about the supernatural in this town from him. Stiles grabbed his keys and walked with Scott outside. “Love you, honey.”

“Love you.”

And then he came back. You were lying in bed, taking deep breaths and winding down when he knocked. You shot up, sifting through what you know about the supernatural for something that could mimic his knock. You padded over the cold floor to the door and looked through the window at the top. It was Stiles. Of course, it was Stiles.

You opened the door, and Stiles stepped inside without hesitation. As you were closing and locking the door, he pulled you by the waist into him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Stiles, I’m not mad. I just- I wish I weren’t left so clueless. I hate looking stupid, and then you come to me with something like this. I would feel much better if I had known you were going into that, I could’ve been prepared.”

Stiles smoothed your hair behind your ears, “I know it was stupid, and you should not have to suffer because of it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t go out and do whatever you want like you did before. I won’t ever want to change that. I don’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who mothers you. I’m just– What if you go out there and get shot or hurt or worse, and I’m not there to help? I don’t want to be clueless and helpless when it comes to you. You know I’ll always be here for anything, and I can try to chill out, but-“

“Listen, you don’t need to do anything. I didn’t text you. That’s my fault. I agreed to let you know if I had planned anything stupid and failed. I wish you wouldn’t have to worry, but I’d do the same thing if it were reversed. I’m glad I have you on my side, okay? I’ll do better, I’m sorry.”

You huffed, not satisfied with him taking the full weight of shame that comes with an apology. “I just care about you. And Scott. I guess.”

He smiled and kissed your cheek, “Thank you.”

Another kiss, followed by several more peppered around your face, punctuated with, “Thank you, thank you, thank you-“

You cracked a smile and limply attempted to push him away. He shook his head, languidly walking you back from the front door into the kitchen. His lips followed in pace, listlessly pressed against your temple. 

“I should’a known better. Should’a known you wouldn’t be satisfied with that.” He mumbled as he guided your hips to the counter. “Not my girl.”

“Well, it’s your girl’s bedtime.”

Stiles kissed behind your ear, just where he could reach, while he spoke in your ear. His voice was the same tone he used when he spoke up an innocent excuse, just a few octaves lower and so, so close. “Is it?”

“Yes, and you know how I get without sleep.”

You could practically hear him bare his teeth in a grin, his fingers tracing just beneath the hemline of your shirt, “How do you get?”

You laughed and pulled his hands away from your stomach, holding them in yours. He looked down at you, barely hiding how his eyes flicked to your lips every few seconds before ducking his head down into your neck. He subconsciously leaned into you, pressing your lower back into the counter. You felt him inhale deeply, his lips pressed into a spot just under where you applied your perfume. He went after the scent, however faded it was, and you felt him push his face deeper. His nose, his broad smile, his eyelashes all against your neck. He licked that spot on your throat before kissing it gratefully. His head dipped with each movement of his jaw, sucking at the point where he could feel your pulse on his lips. His fingers aimlessly tangled with yours on the counter behind you.

You had to give it to him. He could be reckless. Sometimes, it was hard to be his girlfriend, but he always made it up to you. He’d realized how little he’d been getting a hold of you and spend the next few days and nights with you, making sure you could see how much he loved you. He was erratic, but he wasn’t inconsistent with that part. He wasn’t on and off checking texts or stopping by; he was always committed to that, and it never stopped, but there were exceptions. Of course, you knew what you signed up for. He was worth it, you trusted him, and he was really good at making it up to you.

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, knocking his baseball cap sideways on his head. “M’sorry.”

Stiles bent slightly, hooking his hands on the backs of your thighs and lifting you up to sit on the counter. His smile hooked at the side, making every look of insane emotion sort of playful. He reached up, taking the hat off when you stopped him, “Keep it on.”

“Yeah?” His smirk grew more confident, a look you didn’t often see on the genuine side.

“Mhm. It’s hot.”

Stiles’s smile broke into a grin, although he was sort of distracted by the hickeys he’d left on your neck. Repeating what you say as fact, he let his eyes wander, “It’s hot.”

Your laugh pulled him back in, along with you grabbing a fistful of his flannel, “Very hot, sweetheart. Can you please fuck me now?”

It took him a second to think of a response, of course, after every thought he had was replaced with your words. “I can definitely do that.”

You helped him take his shirt off, repositioning the hat backward on his head after his shirt hit the floor. He smiled as you kissed his cheek and hooked your thumbs under his jeans, Mumbling against your lips as they traveled across his face and down to his neck, touching down every so often. Mumbling about how he’d wear whatever you told him if you liked it. Stopping you from doing any heavy lifting, he gently withdrew your hands from his waistband and led you to crawl into your bed. Instructing you to just sit there and look pretty, he slowly stepped out of his jeans and kneeled on the bed to help you with your shirt. At the pace he had going, by the time he had his eyes glued to your chest, you were already pushing your shorts down. When he saw your impatience, he chuckled and watched you struggle to maneuver them off underneath him. You huffed and gave up, moving your arms out of the way. 

“Atta girl.”

Your interest in his new look made him cocky. The attitude that came with it was no doubt attractive. You found yourself searching for more openings for him to use his confidence and for you to encourage it. You started by humming at the praise, watching him drop your shorts off the side of the bed. At the same time Stiles leaned down to kiss you, your hands flattened against his lower stomach, against his happy trail. You both let out respective sounds of need, and Stiles’s hips lowered between your legs. With the feeling of his dick through the thin material of his boxers came your hips bucking softly. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes slowly, huffing out what was going to be a grunt. “Shit, honey. You make it so easy, don’t you?”

You hummed in response, letting him press himself into you and tell you fondly exactly what a guy like him should do to keep a girl like you happy. “I didn’t just know what I should just do with you, y’know. I thought about it a lot.” Stiles’s mouth turned up when he saw you weren’t really focused on his words. He leaned in, “Like a lot.”

“Mhm, just—“

“Alright, I know. You like it when I talk to you, though, right?”

“Yeah, honey. I like it.” You smiled up at him, the gears turning in his head. Stiles slowly dipped his head to your chest, sucking another mark into where the skin got plush. His eyes tracked yours, doing as much as he could while keeping your eyes on him. You’d been so frustrated lately, not just with Stiles. School issues, problems at work. The stress was irritating, but you couldn’t imagine what Stiles was going through. That understanding was a bare minimum in your mind, but for Stiles, you were the most considerate person in the world. He didn’t want to make you feel like he was just using you because you were available. So, he made sure to check every box he could for you. 

“Fuckin’ love you.” He bit the breath coming out into his lip, and his eyelashes fluttered. He was doing everything to keep his eyes open and watch you. You mumbled it back, eyes squeezed shut as he thrust steadily, but he leaned his way into kissing your temple. “What was that? I’m sorry, honey, I can’t hear you.”

You cracked a smile; that’s all he wanted, but you ventured to use your hand buried in his hair to push his head back down so that his ear was by your lips. You held down a moan, replacing it with, “I love you, too.”

It came out with the same needy tone, though, and he found your mouth to kiss his smile onto yours. While he took a second to hold himself up and take a deep breath, your cheek rested against his wrist. When he felt you gently take his wrist between your teeth jokingly, he looked down and chuckled. “I deserve that. I’ll be a better boyfriend, promise.”

“Honey—“ You began, not wanting him to wallow in self-created guilt.

“I know, but still. Just let me…” Stiles’s smile opened as he moved his hips forward, hand molded around your thigh. He pushed himself deeper into you, eyes erratically trying to find something to focus on. Your face, your chest, your hands, down to where you took his dick so well, his eyes got overwhelmed. But he wasn’t going to close them. He’s not an idiot. He couldn’t figure out which would make him cum first. Closing his eyes and imagining you doing the thousand other things you had talked about, or keeping them open and watching you try to smile up at him through the haze, also struggling to keep your eyes up. It didn’t help that you tend to whine for him, showcasing how blank your mind really was. His thumb was less circling your clit than just trying to savor how messy he’d gotten you. He fed into his curiosity, which he would’ve done regardless of how good it made you feel, but especially because you arched your back off of the bed and pushed your hips up, meeting his thrusts, letting him bury himself deeper. 

He encouraged you, feeling the need start to deepen, pushing him harder. He was driven, you’d told him, thank god he didn’t gamble. Anything verbal was hopeless. He just mumbled emphatically at each movement. He opened his mouth, a clue he was almost there. He just needed a little more. Just having him like that made you clench yourself around him, moaning when he almost lost his hold of himself above you. 

“You gotta…” He almost ’woofed’ out his breath. “Fuck, honey, y’take it so good.”

His voice cracked on ‘honey,’ and you could see it sort of shook his confidence. He’d never really said anything like that with you. He was the first in the relationship to be vocal about most things. He said he loved you first, despite all the inner turmoil, even if it was sort of an accident. It was your encouragement that made him say it, your reaction to his confident demeanor. You saw an opening to make him feel good about himself; you took it. His eyes closed, gears turning and undoubtedly overthinking what he just said, but you said his name, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you.

With a sort of assured grin, you nodded at him, “Keep going. Wanna hear how well I take it.” 

He mirrored your smile, getting shy about it, but his next thrust had him to the hilt and holding it there. You yelped a little at the feeling of him holding you, of him driven into you and bracing you while you squirmed. You moaned, and he twitched, hearing it sound like he’d knocked the wind from you. “Look at you. Fuck, you’re doing so good. Just like that for me.”

Mewling his name, extremities limp, you let him see exactly how much you liked seeing him try new things. He liked the way you tightened around his dick when he pushed himself inside little by little until you started to reach for his arm, and he’d stop there. You strained a little, taking deep breaths, the muscles in your stomach contracting and squeezing your cunt around him. You came around him, cursing and fawning. Stiles let out a groan that turned into useless and incomprehensible praise. His hips slowly retracted, slowly met yours again, speeding up until he found the release he was chasing. He struggled to keep the pace, though. He’d revert back to his other method, get restless, and try to keep up with his needs. 

When Stiles came, his chest was pressed down against yours. All he had to do was turn his head, and he was kissing your neck again, breathing harshly. He built up the strength to roll over beside you and rest his head on your shoulder. He looked up at you with a little exhaustion when you sat up and brushed your fingers through his hair, the baseball cap forgotten for the time being. His fatigue was clear in his voice when he spoke, and he let his head roll off of your shoulder. “I’ll be better.”

You tilted your head, about to comment how what he just did was pretty damn good, but more than grateful he could recognize how stressed his being in danger made you. You leaned down to kiss his nose, laughing when he tried to croon his neck so that you met his lips. You reached over the side of the bed, your fingers finding the soft material of Stiles’s shirt and pulling it over your head. You managed to find his boxers as well, frowning when a hand took them from you. Stiles put them back on, still lying down and tired. You moved to sit on your heels next to him on the bed, your hand softly tracing shapes into his chest. Stiles tried really hard to keep his eyes open, but you ran your hand over his torso and up through his hair in a way you knew would put him out. He tried to keep talking, but every “mhmph” felt like a monumental effort from his entire body. He ended up letting you trace the veins on his arm while he listened to you, being soothed to silence and held just over the edge of sleep by your voice and your hands. When you finally lay down next to him, Stiles had fallen asleep. He liked waking up to find you had slid yourself into his arms after making him so pliable. Of course, you got a notification and had to check it before you went to sleep for the night, and, of course, it was Scott. He was asking why Stiles hadn’t been responding to his calls or texts and that he had a few ideas they could look over with Derek. You messaged him back that he’d been busy. That you both had been busy with heavy implications in the message. You sent a picture of Stiles fast asleep to help explain how you had put him to bed. Scott’s plain reply of “oh” was enough closure for you to put the phone down for the night. 

[eempyreall]

This is the original request. This story is the original characters’ version.

༺————————————————————————༻

♪ 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑓𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑦 𝐷𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐶𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑛 ♪

༺ The Auction ༻

Oneshot ~ Hybrids x Female Reader

Summary ~ You work for an auction house that illegally sells exotic hybrids.

Featuring ~ Original Characters: Arlo & Felix

Extra Notes ~ This is the non fandom version of this story. If you want to read the Tokyo Revengers’ version, press this link.

This story should only be posted under eempyreall on my tumblr. Report if you see it posted under anyone else but me.

Warning ~

You and the characters are 21+. Although I picture the reader as a black cis-gendered female, physical appearance will not be described at all.

Content within this story may not be realistic or factual.

I do not condone any of the behavior displayed within the story.

There may be dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit content, sexual content, non consensual and/or dubious consensual content, etc.

That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Despite your job as a maintenance caregiver for the hybrids, your morals do not match that of your role. It is your belief that, although hybrids are deemed monsters and creatures, they should be treated like any other human. However, the pay is undeniably convenient and quicker than any other regular career you could work for.

You never expected to get attached to any of the hybrids at the auction house. Your only job was to maintain their care before they were sold to the highest bidder. You had succeeded with your logical approach since you began working at the house a couple of years ago.

It wasn’t until two snow leopard hybrids appeared in a way that was hard to ignore.

“These are the new captures,” the gruff voice of the broad, middle-aged man states. “Clean ‘em up.” Your boss turns to leave the room as you examine the two men through the bars of the large cage.

The one on the left is tall, leaning against the cold metal wall with his arms lazily crossed over his chest. His long, dyed red hair drapes over his shoulders, a few loose strands framing his sharp jawline, smeared with dried blood. Crimson is also streaked down his fit torso, staining the large tattoo on his chest. A sly smirk spreads across his face as he eyes his extended claws.

His droopy, heavy-lidded purple eyes shift to yours, the weight of his gaze heavy despite the lighthearted expression on his face. His ears are perked as his tail sways slowly. If you look closely, you can even see the stained crimson on his black pants. You notice that he doesn’t look wounded, so you wonder where the blood came from.

Next to his standing figure is a man with similar features, sitting on the ground. One arm is draped over his raised knee while the other is planted on the bottom of the cage. His black hair is cut short at the sides but longer at his neck. His body has matching ink, though on the opposite side. Blood stains him just as much as the former.

His expression is indifferent, bored, as his heavy-lidded gaze sticks to the side, never meeting yours. His tail lies over the leg that’s flat on the ground, his claws extended as the dim light casts a glow over them.

Neither of them seem to be in pain. It makes you wonder what could’ve happened on their way here. If the older male had stayed, you would’ve asked so you’d know what to expect.

There are hybrids who are violent, indifferent, and scared. In your two years of working at the auction house, you’ve never come across anyone violent. You’re mainly consistent with those who are indifferent and scared. These guys don’t look scared. If anything, they look bored—but the blood says otherwise. It’s definitely not their own.

“You just gonna stand there and stare, or are you gonna clean us already?”

Your attention turns to the male sitting on the ground, whose eyes are now on you.

Day one was interesting, to say the least.

“You're handling me with such care, human~” the long-haired man drawled, the suds of the bath covering his lower half. His red hair drips with moisture as he watches you glide the cloth against the skin of his arm. “You like me or somethin'?”

You give him an unimpressed look as you release his wrist, tossing him the wet cloth before grabbing a clean one. “You can clean your own balls.”

The black-haired male snickered as you began to wash his back, while the older male whined, “Aww,” in response to your statement.

Once they were completely dried off and you had used the blow-dryer on their manes, you secured the collars around their necks and walked them to their new cage, their leashes in your hand.

They watched your figure as you walked in front of them, leading them to the cage, which had futons clean and ready for their temporary stay.

Once they were secured inside, you unhooked their leashes and locked the cage behind you.

The taller one leaned against the bars closest to you, his arms crossed above his head. “I wonder if you taste better than our lunch from earlier,” he said with a smirk.

You ignored him, suppressing the slight churn of your stomach so as not to give him the reaction he was looking for. It was best to pretend you hadn’t cared about what he said.

“Probably. That meal was ass,” the younger one stated as he relaxed on the futon.

You rolled your eyes and waved them off as you walked out.

When day two arrived, you entered the holding area in which the brothers were caged. The auction house was grand enough to have individual rooms, each holding at least two hybrids, secured behind bars.

The younger one sat on the futon, his back leaning against the back of the cage, arms draped over his bent knees as he idly flicked his tail. His black hair was slightly messier than before, and his sharp eyes followed your every movement.

The red-haired one stretched out across the futon, hands tucked comfortably behind his head as he cracked an eye open at your presence. His ears twitched, his tail flicking once before settling.

You unlocked the cage, stepping inside with ease. You didn’t say anything as you placed a tray of large raw fish inside.

“Room service, huh?” the older one smirked as he pushed himself up on his elbows.

You exhaled through your nose, unamused. “Eat.”

The following days became routinely consistent as you took care of the hybrids. You would arrive at their cage, feed them, monitor their vitals, bathe them, and feed them once more. Despite their playful behavior, you kept your responses short—yet somehow, they always found a way to pry a reaction out of you.

The older male, Arlo, had a habit of watching you too intently. He’d study your movements and expressions while lazily draping over the futon or leaning against the bars. Despite his laid-back persona, there was intent behind every word he chose, amusement reaching his expression as he smirked whenever your lips twitched at something he said. Although Felix was quieter, he was blunt, slicing through whatever wall you tried to keep between yourself and them.

They were different from the other hybrids brought to the auction house. They weren’t scared, angry, or hopeless—though you couldn’t blame the others for feeling that way. If anything, they seemed to enjoy their situation a bit too much, as if it were a game.

As time went on, you continued to do your job, but at some point, your indifference began to slip.

The first time you laughed, it caught you off guard.

It wasn’t intentional. Arlo had made some offhand comment—something absurd but delivered with such a straight face that you couldn’t help it. The sound barely left your lips before you caught it.

Arlo’s grin widened as Felix’s lips curved into a smirk. You rolled your eyes and turned away, shutting down and replacing the mask you hide your real personality behind. After that, they continued to try and get a rise out of you, their amusing behaviors becoming more frequent.

There were a couple more times that you failed to keep your composure, despite your better judgment. You’d even make a few sly remarks in return that would make them raise an eyebrow with an amused gaze, their ears perking up and tails upright with a curve at the tip.

Regardless, you still remained professional. You didn’t linger longer than necessary. You didn’t acknowledge the way Arlo’s eyes followed you when you walked away or how Felix’s tail would twitch whenever you got too close. You ignored the way their bodies would subtly lean in your direction when you bathed them or checked them over.

You even ignored that you were beginning to enjoy their presence. You knew it was best not to get attached—soon enough, you’d never see them again.

You stood in the bathroom after bathing the males, using the blow-dryer on Arlo’s hair as he sat on the wooden chair. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he crossed a leg over along with his arms. His tail was low under the towel that covered his lower body, though it twitched slightly when you guided the bristles of the brush through his mane. The leopard almost drifted off to sleep as you worked through his long strands.

Felix, on the other hand, stood off to the side, leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

A towel covered his lower half, but his tail thrashed slightly underneath. His posture was tense as he eyed you.

Suddenly, you felt a strong tug on the back collar of your top, yanking you back with a sharp force that caused you to drop the blow-dryer onto Arlo’s lap and the brush to hit the floor.

A gasp escaped your lips as Felix lifted you up, his claws gripping your thighs and hoisting you onto the sink. He wedged himself between your legs as his head dipped between your neck and shoulder. Your hands reached his shoulders as he caged you in, his towel dangerously low.

“What the fuck?” you questioned, startled by the sudden movement as you leaned back, holding onto him. His nose pressed into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm as he slowly nuzzled your skin, his hands caging you in on either side of your hips.

His tail flicked behind him as his lips barely dragged along the lining of your neck, your body frozen as you stared across the room with wide eyes.

“Felix…” Your voice came out softer than you had wanted it to, a chill crawling up your spine as your nails pierced his skin.

He pulled back, a sharp gaze meeting yours, irritation clear in his expression. His ears were slightly pinned back as his grip on the counter tightened.

“You reek of mutt.”

Your brows furrowed with confusion as you pushed him back further, though he stayed in place.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He ignored you as his head dipped low again, a hand reaching up as he brushed against your jawline.

“Fixing it. You smell filthy,” he said, his voice rough.

Your breath hitched when you felt the moisture of his tongue as the muscle slithered up your neck, essentially grooming you of the scent of another hybrid you had tended to earlier that day.

Arlo set the blow-dryer on the counter as he stood from the seat. “Damn, Felix. You just gonna leave me out?”

You yelped as the older brother's claws snatched your jaw up, forcing you to face the ceiling as his face dipped low from the side, wedging himself between the counter and your thigh.

Heat rushed through your body as your other hand grabbed Arlo’s shoulder in reflex. Despite using your strength to push them away, they were like stone walls.

It was late when you had entered their cage to check their vitals.

The other hybrids had you backed up as you completed all of your assignments the best you could in a timely manner. You approached with careful steps so as to not wake either of the sleeping men.

Once you knelt next to the older male, you reached for his wrist, only to be surprised when an arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you onto the futon.

His warmth pressed against your back as he wrapped his tail lazily around your thigh, his arm holding you in place as he curled against you.

“Arlo!” you whispered sharply, attempting to twist out of his grip.

“Just lay with me for a little bit,” he said, his voice drowsy with sleep as he nuzzled against your neck.

Despite the logical part of your mind screaming at you to leave, you hesitated and figured that staying for a moment longer couldn’t hurt, as long as he fell asleep.

Time passed before you finally heard his breathing even out, allowing you to ease out of his grip.

You ignored the cold of your back from his absence as you kept your head straight toward the exit of the cage.

Three days had passed since you last stepped into their cage. You had switched assignments with another caregiver, distancing yourself from the hybrid brothers in a way that felt both suffocating and necessary. You had allowed a line to be crossed that should've never been breached.

It was going smoothly—or so you thought. You hadn't heard anything from or about them. You forced yourself not to worry about how they were doing or how they felt about your absence.

In the midst of beginning your shift, your boss, who had first introduced you to the hybrid brothers, yanked you to a stop as you walked toward the designated hybrid room for the occupants you had been tending to recently.

“You—,” He exhaled sharply, sweat streaming from his forehead and soaking through his shirt. “Come with me. Now.”

“What?” you questioned, confusion knitting your brows as concern crept in at his antsy behavior.

The man gripped your wrist, dragging you down the familiar path toward the snow leopards’ room. Before you could question him again, he threw the door open and pulled you inside.

Your eyes widened at the display.

Blood was everywhere.

The cage door was locked, yet inside, the floor was slick with crimson.

The scent of torn flesh thickened in the air as your gaze landed on the scattered human remains—entrails and half-eaten limbs strewn across the cage and spilling just beyond the bars onto the wooden floor.

Bile threatened to rise in your throat as you lifted an arm over your mouth, leaning forward slightly before your gaze shifted to the hybrids inside.

Felix sat on the futon with his knees raised, arms draped over them, his head bowed low. Despite his face being hidden, you could tell he was tense by the thrashing of his tail and the way his claws flexed against his arm. The skin visible to you was streaked with blood.

Arlo stood at the bars, forehead resting against the cold metal, his hair partially veiling his face, claws curled around the bars. You caught the glint of his irises through the strands—dark, heavy-lidded, unreadable. His body and face bore the same smears of blood. His tail hung low, his ears flattened against his head.

The middle-aged man shifted nervously beside you. “They won't talk to anyone. They haven't even moved from their spots since we found them hours ago. They bonded with you, didn't they?”

You hesitated before giving a slow nod. Keeping your eyes on the floor, you stepped forward carefully, attempting to avoid the red puddles and strewn remains—though failing the closer you got to the bars.

You made sure not to get too close as you met Arlo’s gaze.

“Why have you been avoiding us?” His voice was calm, his expression stoic and dark as he looked down at you.

“Have you abandoned us?”

The words alone sent a chill up your spine, dread coiling in your stomach at the mess you had created by getting too close to them.

Someone innocent had died because of your mistakes.

The air in the bathroom was thick with steam and tension from the moments before. You carefully scrubbed Felix’s arm, his skin still streaked with traces of blood. Both brothers sat silently in the bathtub, their expressions unreadable and dark. Their wet hair hung over their faces, dripping with water that trickled down their features.

“I... I'm sorry for not staying as professional as I should've,” you said softly, your voice strained with the tension. “And for leaving without saying anything.”

Felix’s jaw tightened, his body barely moving as his fingers curled against the edge of the tub.

His calm expression flickered with irritation. His tone was rough, but controlled. “You don't get it, do you?”

You were caught off guard as his claws snatched your wrist, pulling you forward with your arm stretched out. He leaned closer, eyes boring into yours. “You're an idiot. This is about you leaving us. Abandoning us for other hybrids while we waited for you to come back.”

Your heart started to pound against your chest as you tried to yank your arm out of his painful grip. “You're misunderstanding the situation! You shouldn't be so fucking attached to me. You're gonna be sold today! This isn't appropriate-!”

Arlo’s hand snatched the back of your neck, forcing you to face him. Moisture from the bath water dripped down your skin. “You think we give a fuck about what's appropriate?”

Suddenly, he threw you back, and you landed harshly on the floor. You watched with wide eyes as they stood up from the tub, water streaming down their bodies, their wet ears and tails flicking the moisture off as they took a step forward.

You scooted back gradually as they walked toward you, staring down at you with cold gazes.

“I think you've got this shit all wrong, Y/n.” Felix’s voice was low and predatory as their tails thrashed around, ears flat against their heads.

It was traumatic.

The entire auction house erupted into a bloody massacre. With their claws extended, fangs as sharp as daggers, and bodies bare of any clothing, they mauled and shredded apart all of the employees, audience members, and hybrids that they smelled on you. One by one, the people who had been part of the illegal auction were maimed, killed, and toyed with—entrails and body parts scattered around the room.

Despite their calm demeanor and stoic gazes, a smirk or two here and there, they were feral. You could see it in their eyes—they absolutely enjoyed shredding everyone apart. The carnage lasted for at least an hour, though you hadn't kept track of the time. You were too distracted by the bloodshed playing out in front of you.

You even freed some of the hybrids from their cages in hopes of the innocents escaping.

You recognized the middle-aged man, your boss, in an unrecognizable pile of guts, torn flesh, and blood.

Eventually, the chaos ended. The cries and screams of terror had finally died down.

You sat with your knees drawn to your chest, too paralyzed to escape. You hoped they would finish you off like they had the others, considering the guilt that weighed heavily on you for all of this. Felix and Arlo finally approached you, their faces and torsos streaked with crimson. Their eyes held an eerie calm, but there was a glint of amusement there.

“Y'know, we were gonna do this the day we were captured,” Felix muttered, a smirk curving his lips as he crossed his arms. “But we stayed for you. It was fun while it lasted, playing as strays in a cage and all.”

Tears streamed down your face as you looked up at them. It felt as if the control you had all along had been stolen away from you. All of your emotions burst out in a hysterical outburst, your weeping uncontrollable as you covered your face and bowed your head.

“I-I can't believe this..” you sobbed, your voice shaky.

Arlo’s claws gently, but firmly, pulled your wrist away from your face, forcing you to stand. His bloody thumb smeared crimson against your cheek as he wiped away your tears. “Cry all you want, sweetheart. We're not done with you, yet,” he smirked.

Arlo dragged you with them as they made their way toward the exit, stepping over the corpses of the dead without a second glance. Their smug expressions didn't falter as they moved through the carnage. The air was thick with the stench of death, but it seemed as though they had done this a thousand times before.

As they stepped outside, Felix pulled out a phone from one of the corpses, dialing a number with blood staining the screen.

The phone rang, and you could only watch, too overwhelmed to react, as they spoke to their friend. They were casual, almost as if the massacre hadn't just taken place. The brutality they'd shown was nothing more than a prelude to what they had planned next.

“Done playing pretend?” The voice on the other end spoke with a condescending tone.

“Yeah. Just come pick us up.” Felix’s voice was smooth.

It had been weeks since the incident. You were deemed one of the unidentified victims—nothing but an unrecognizable pile of flesh and guts.

That day still haunted you, the memories of the chaos, screams, torn flesh. The smell of death was the worst of it.

Now, you sat between the two hybrids in the large bathtub. Your back rests against Arlo’s chest, his hands holding your breasts apart as Felix, sitting in front of you with your legs over his raised thighs, slides a wet cloth against the middle of your chest.

"Relax," Arlo breathed as you felt his hard cock press against your lower back. Understanding what he meant, you tilted your head back against his chest, tilting to the side enough for his lips to press against your neck. His fangs nip your skin, causing you to shudder as Felix continues his motion against your skin.

Felix’s hand moved lower, slowly disappearing under the sudsy water as he released the cloth, a sudden pressure of his finger meeting your clit. He leaned forward, lips parted as they pressed against yours in a slow, passionate kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Complicated (Will Graham)

Description: Will loves Y/N who is cold towards everyone but opens up to him that is until Hannibal comes along

Warning: Smut

Word Count:1,908

Request:Can you write a will graham x fem!reader where reader is an fbi agent and is working in the case with will and will starts to fall in love with her since she ‘understands’ him but she’s quite cold towards everyone can you also make her one of the best agents and Hannibal becomes quite intrigued by her could you add in will and reader smut too pls❤️

Author’s note: kind of an x Hannibal story as well. Also I misread it and thought it said to add smut and then add Will I am sorry but I hope you like it!

She took off her gloves and put them in her pocket as her and Will checked out the body. “Looks dead to me.” She said in a plain voice but Will laughed. “Yeah he certainly does.” Jack put the best agents on the Chesapeake ripper case and all week they’ve been trying to find hints, clues, anything that would give away who it was.

Y/N sighed and looked at the poor guy’s neck. “He was strangled to death.” She said and he nodded, “His lower half is missing.” She nodded. “Way to point out the obvious.” She looks at him and he smiles. They sat there and investigated the upper half of this man. Y/N making jokes with a straight face and Will laughing and adding to the jokes. Y/N was cold and distant to a lot of people. She was very professional and one of the best agents in the FBI.

Will favored her over anyone and loved her jokes even though she never has a joking tone to her voice when she speaks. He could tell her anything and she never judged him and even on rare occasions she would share some things with him. She too had sleep problems and needed therapy. She could make him smile without even trying. He wanted to tell her so badly but decided that it wasn’t right. She was too professional; there was no way that she would date him. 

“You have a good night, Will Graham.” She tells him and he nods, “You as well, Y/N Y/L/N.” As she walked to her car she had a small smile on her face. Will had a huge smile as he got in his car and drove home for another restless night. 

Will should have told her how he felt but once Hannibal met her he had the feeling that Hannibal also liked her but Y/N didn’t seem interested in his company as a matter of fact Y/N didn’t seem to like him at all. “You need to leave, we are working on a case Dr.Lecter.” She told him without looking at him.

Will hid a smile as Hannibal looked surprised. Not many people talked to him like that but he wasn’t offended. He was intrigued and wanted to know more about her. “I was offering my help on the case.” “We don’t need it.” Will nodded at Y/N agreeing with her. “Well I will leave you two to it.” He said and left the room.

“You don’t like him very much do you?” He asked her. She shrugged, “I don’t like many people.” She told him and he felt that. Though he had his quirks with Hannibal the guy was smart. “He shows up and thinks he knows everything and that he could help.” Y/N says and Will looks at her a little surprised. “You aren’t interested in what he has to say?” He asked her. She shrugged, “Not really.” Hannibal felt the complete opposite about her. And the next day Will would be pondered with questions about her. 

“Y/N seems different.” He said to Will who was not happy about him taking interest in her. “Y/N doesn’t really like you Hannibal. I would give up now.” He told him and Hannibal looked offended. “She doesn’t even know me.” Though this was true Y/N didn’t care to get to know him at all. “She’s just like that.” Hannibal looked at him before standing up, “What makes you any different?” He asked Will. Will gave him a smile, “She likes me.” What does Will have that he doesn’t? 

Y/N rolled her eyes as Hannibal walked in her office with Will and Jack. She looked up and greeted ⅔ of them. Hannibal cleared his throat but she ignored him. “Y/N this is Hannibal. You may have already met him.” Y/N nodded and looked over at the man. “He is helping us on the case.” Will said, trying to hide his annoyance. “We don’t need help, we have got this.” Y/N told Jack. Will agreed but Jack didn’t care. Y/N tried to hide her eye roll but Will saw it and smiled at her. “I promise I won’t get in the way.” Hannibal said and Y/N looked at him. This was going to be so fun. 

Hannibal shared his thoughts on what he thought about the next person that was murdered. Y/N hated to admit it but he seemed to know what he was talking about. Maybe he should be in the FBI. “You are onto something Lecter.” Hannibal chuckled, “Did you just call me by my last name?” He asked with a smile.

She looked at him and shrugged, “You have been warming up to me.” He teases and she rolls her eyes. Will was the only person that she truly was comfortable around but after these past few weeks she had gotten closer to him. Will walked in and saw the smile on Hannibal’s face. He too has noticed that Y/N was warming up to Hannibal and he didn’t like it. Hannibal also could tell that Will was annoyed by it but that was more of a reason to do it.

They worked on the case and made up theories and thoughts until it was time to rest. Will left first no longer wanting to be in the room with Hannibal and his flirty comments towards Y/N. “What’s it going to take for you to let me make you dinner?” She looked over at him. 

She couldn’t say exactly how she got to this point. This wasn’t like her at all. She was eating the meal that Hannibal had made her and let herself go for once and now she was on the table that they just ate off of and Hannibal was thrusting into her. Her fingers dug into the table as he rocked her and the table. His large hands gripped her hips tight enough to leave bruises, not that either of them cared right now. Her lips were swollen from kissing and taking his dick into her mouth. She was loud but not extremely loud.

Hannibal had his hips angled to hit her sweet spot so she was moaning and whining for him. He looked down at her and noticed how beautiful she was and how amazing she felt. She whined his name weakly pulling him out of his thoughts and making him thrust faster. He wished Will was here, not to join but to see him fuck the woman of his dreams.

Will would hate it but Hannibal would love it. He wrapped a hand around her throat and groaned, “Are you going to cum for me?” She nodded and was breathless. “Cum for me. Cum all over my cock and scream.” He demanded and just from that it was so easy for her. She screamed his name as she came all over him. Her body shuddered and her hips stuttered as she felt the intensity of the orgasm flow through her body. The sight of her made Hannibal cum with a moan. 

The next day Will was supposed to have a session with Hannibal but Y/N was there for the case. Will had nearly walked in on them making out but Y/N stepped away before they could get caught. “What are you doing here?” Will asked her as he walked into Hannibal’s office. She held up the case file in her hand, “I believe I have the next lead.” She told him as she handed him the file. He took it but looked over at Hannibal, “We were supposed to have a session.” “Yes but Y/N said that this was important.” Will opened the file and looked through it.

Though he believed that the other man in the room had something to do with this he couldn’t shame Y/N’s effort. “So this is what we are working on today?” He asked them. Y/N nodded and sat in a chair, Will sat in the other one. He couldn’t shake off how weird it was that Y/N was in Hannibal’s house and in the office with the door closed. Come to think about it, Y/N never knew where Hannibal’s house even was…unless… He tried to ignore that thought but couldn’t.

Y/N would call him first about the case before showing Hannibal. Let alone tell him what the plan was today. He saw Hannibal not even paying attention but staring at her with hungry eyes. He had no doubt that they had slept together and maybe were about to before he came in. Anger and jealousy rose in him and he was going to confront her as soon as they left the house. 

“You slept with him didn’t you?” Was the first words out of Will’s mouth once they were outside Hannibal’s house. Y/N turned to look at him with surprise. Had it been that obvious? “What makes you say that?” She asked him. He shook his head with a scoff, “You so did. You would have straight up said No and you barely show emotions through your face.” She stared at him with a straight face as he ranted. “Why does it matter?” Will couldn’t believe she would even ask that.

He thought that they had something but was proven wrong with this Hannibal situation. “Y/N you can’t be that oblivious.” She knew that Will and her were very close and before Hannibal that was the person she was closest to. “You think he’s using me for something?” Yeah she was that oblivious. “I’m in love with you!” He yells at her and her eyes widen a little. “I love you and I thought that we had something or that was a possibility but you sleep with him? You hated him when you first met him.” This was all true and Y/N couldn’t help but look down at her feet in shame. This wasn’t like her at all and if she was to sleep with anyone it would be Will. She couldn’t believe herself.

“Will I-I don’t know what to say. It’s complicated.” She admits to him and he wants to laugh. He wants to laugh in her face because what was so complicated about it. He shakes his head, “Truth be told Y/N I think he’s the Chesapeake ripper.” He walks away to his car leaving her stunned. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about what Will said to her that night. She went back to being quiet during meetings and investigations and even cut ties with Hannibal. She knew that Will was smart but did she actually believe what he said? Hannibal, a killer? Hannibal was confused by her behavior. Maybe she regretted sleeping with him or maybe Will put things in her head about him. He couldn’t help but think that maybe Will was truly behind this. But she wasn’t speaking to him either. Actually she was avoiding them both.

But for different reasons. Will loves her and maybe she feels the same way back and Hannibal could be the killer that they are looking for. She sat in her bed staring at the pictures of all the bodies that they found. Could Hannibal actually be capable of doing all of this? She thought back to all he was saying about the killer and how he did seem to understand things even though he was a therapist. She reached for her phone and called Will, he answered and she sighed before talking, “So Hannibal’s the Chesapeake ripper.”

[flowery-mess]

THE FIRE WITHIN

chapter 1 (series masterlist)

Pairing: fire fighter Noah x female reader (Tess Monroe)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / fire / explosion / death /death of firefighters / description of dead fire fighters / complicated call / description of fire and explosion / being affected by the call / therapy / let me know of anything else!

Words: 3k

Author's note: Finally! I'm so excited for this! I know this chapter may come off as boring, because there's not really any interactiom between Noah and reader, but that will change in the one. I appreciate feedback in any form! Hope you like it♥️

Be aware you're reading this at your own decision, it contains sensitive topics, so please think twice before reading as I wouldn't want to cause anyone any discomfort while reading my work!

Hungry for action, determined to be the best. That’s how you could describe Lt. Noah Sebastian.

It was never his dream to be a firefighter, until he started the job. After high school, he didn’t have any direction in his life, until his buddy who joined the LA Fire department year earlier than Noah, told him about it.

Noah got into the academy, finished it as one of the best and got sent to a station 25.

He likes the life of a fire fighter. He works 24 hour shift, then has two days off. On those days off he usually goes to the gym, hangs out with his friends and then flirts with girls at his local bar. Because being a fire fighter is the ultimate pick up line, isn’t it.

If you’d ask his colleagues, they would say Noah is disciplined, but still a funny guy. He’s young, so he brings fresh air to the station. He’s full of jokes, making their shifts go by faster.

On calls he’s focused on the work that needs to be done. He follows orders, does his job properly and leaves every shift with gratitude that he can come home alive.

Noah lives alone in two room apartment just 20 minute drive from the station. His house is small, but it’s nice. He’s not big on decorations and stuff, but it’s cosy and home for him. He has made the bigger room into kitchen and living room area, the smaller one into his bedroom.

Noah drives black Range rover that he’s very proud and careful of, because he bought that car himself. His upbringing wasn’t bad, but not perfect. He’s an only child. His parents lived in LA long before he was born, but few years ago they decided to move somewhere more quiet. Noah stayed in his hometown with some money from his parents to take care of himself, he used the money to buy his apartment and then had to make money for himself. He bought the car with his and only his money and that’s why he’s so proud about getting it. His mom texts him like once a week to see if he’s doing okay and he calls his dad once a month to catch up on life, but that’s it. He's grateful for everything they’ve done for him but feels pretty much alone now.

So he really appreciates the fire department and guys on his shift, because they feel like a family. They joke together, play games or do make friendly pranks against each other, but when they’re on a call they know they have each other’s backs. They trust each other, because without trust you can’t do this job properly. So when they start doubting Noah’s trust on calls, that’s when things start to get a bit uncomfortable.

*40 days ago*

“Man I hope we can get more than 5 minutes of sleep.” Nick said when him and Noah entered their bunk.

“Don’t say shit like this or the exact opposite is gonna happen.”

“I hope not, I need to sleep.”

Nick is Noah’s best friend who got him into this job. They didn’t start at the same station, but Nick got sent to 25 just a few months ago.

Noah had to agree that tonight’s shift was a busy one. They had two car accidents, one house fire and two false alarms behind them. With only 5 more hours of their shift remaining, Nick and Noah laid in their beds and fell asleep from exhaustion. Little did they know the shift was not going to be over in 5 hours.

Just an hour of sleep later Noah, Nick and the rest of the shift were woken up by the alarm and announcement “Ladder 25, Engine 25, Aid car 25. Structure fire reported at Hoover street. Heavy fire and smoke visible on arrival. Possible hazardous materials on site. Evacuation in progress. Multiple alarms requested.”

“Fuck.” Nick was first to react as him and Noah made their way down to get into their vehicles and leave the station.

“Sounds big.” Noah responded before he started with his gear, putting it on, making sure he has everything he needs on him and then jumping in the back of big vehicle with “Ladder 25” on its side.

As they were approaching the site, they could already see and smell the smoke from streets away. Blue and red lights already at the place, the number of fire cars on site signalizing that it was a big call.

Everyone got to their job immediately, taking in captain’s orders.

Noah’s job on this call was to go inside and extinguish the fires on his way to the fire centre. One rule they always follow: fire fighter is never alone, they work in pairs. Noah’s colleague followed closely behind him as they run into the building.

Others were already running out to get a new oxygen tanks or with workers from the factory in their arms. When they entered the building, Noah already felt something was off. He couldn’t tell what, but something wasn’t right.

They followed instructions on where to go, extinguishing small fires along the way until they reached the big hall where they couldn’t see the other end, because of the smoke and fire.

“Fuck, this bitch is big.” Noah heard his mate and had to agree. He hadn’t seen fire like this before.

“Sebastian to Captain 25. Starting the attack now, requesting additional units. The fire’s big. Copy.” Noah said through his radio to update his captain who was outside giving orders.

They immediately started what they call “the attack” and tried to contain as much fire as possible. He saw Nick along with another Lieutenant run inside and start the same thing.

“Our tanks are running out Noah, we need to leave soon.” Noah just nodded his head and heard the familiar beeping of their tanks when they start to run out of oxygen.

They turned around and started running towards the exit. Once they were outside, they went to get a new tank and update the commander on the situation outside.

The fire didn’t seem to get any smaller when the two of them returned back inside and started the attack again. To Noah it felt like eternity. He was looking into the fire with hose in his hands, trying to find the source like if he could aim the hose at one particular spot and the fire would be over.

Noah’s concentration was interrupted by voice in his radio “Command to all units, there are gas tanks hidden under the main hall. Everyone get out. This is a high risk situation, I repeat evacuate, evacuate, evacute!”

That was the last thing Noah heard before loud explosion went off at the other side of the hall. He saw the fire lit up the whole way to the ceiling, the smoke extended and even through his mask he could smell the gasoline.

When the tanks blew up, the explosion was strong enough to lift fire fighters from the ground and threw them metres away from where they were standing. Noah only felt the ground vibrate and moved few steps back, but what he saw he will never forget.

For a moment after the explosion it was like if everything around him stopped, before going fully into motion again. Some of the guys stayed laying on the floor, some were moving and yelling from the pain and then guys like Noah, who were still capable of doing their job, ran to help those who couldn’t leave that hall on their own.

But not Noah. Noah stood still at the same place and watched everything happen in front of him. He saw the panic in everyone’s eyes. He saw Nick lifting another man in full gear and run towards the exit. He saw others checking pulses of those who were laying still and move to another when they realised the pulse was not there. He saw someone was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear anything.

He saw one of the older guys at his station laying on the ground, not moving. He saw his face, lifeless. It was like Noah was watching the worst they were warned about and trained to handle those situations. But all he could do was stand there and not move.

He was literally facing death in front of him and that was scary as fuck.

He felt someone’s hand grab his arm and drag him away from the spot he was standing at. He realised that the someone was leading a way out for them both, he knew he was alive, but didn’t feel like that.

When they reached the outside the panic didn’t stop, in fact the lights and ambulances and blood and bodies and injuries were even more chaotic than the scene inside.

Someone sat him on the ground and took his mask and helmet off and immediately got him on oxygen. Noah was like a robot, just nodding his head “yes” or “no” when asked questions, his eyes still following the chaos that went on.

It was like a switch inside his body when he realised he didn’t do anything to help inside. He stood up and tried to put his full gear on saying “I need to help them.” and “They’re still inside I need to get them.”

It took three people to stop him from running inside and it took one look at Nick who was sitting in an ambulance with a mask on his mouth that made Noah break down.

He fell to his knees and started crying. He felt overwhelmed by everything and everyone, he tried to protect his ears with his hands, but it still couldn’t stop the noise.

Nick saw his best friend and gathered all of his strength to get up and walk to him. Nick was fine, just smoke inhalation, but one look at him in that ambulance and thoughts of what could have happen to him just broke Noah.

“Hey Noah, it’s me.” Nick said when he knelt next to Noah and put his arm around him. “Just breathe, we’re okay.”

Nick continued to talk Noah through his break down and then helped him inside the same ambulance he was just a minutes ago to get checked up.

The fire was extinguished from inside by additional units, everyone who needed medical help was transferred to the hospital and coroner took care of bodies who lost their lifes as heroes on that call.

When Noah and his crew made it back to station it was already 3 hours after their shift ended. Crisis briefing was ordered at the beginning of their next shift.

Noah didn’t waste time with shower or changing into clean clothes, he started his car and took off.

---

When he came home he threw his bag on the floor and immediately went for the shower. He stood still under the shower for good 20 minutes before he broke down again.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know those calls can happen, he just never really thought it would happen to him and his station. He wished he’d never come across death, but that’s impossible with his job.

He leaned his head on the shower wall and just let his emotions out.

He didn’t go to gym or reach out to anyone, he stayed in bed until it was time to go back to work again.

---

“Good morning everyone, thank you for coming today.” you said as you started the briefing at Station 25. You had the whole shift in the conference room sitting around big table. “My name is Theresa, but you can call me Tess. I’m therapist for the fire department and today I’ll lead this sitting. This here is my colleague, John.” you introduced yourself and John as positively as it was possible in that situation.

“We know things like this are not comfortable for everyone, so we’re not going to push anyone today. But it’s important to go over what happened and come to a conclusion you did everything you could.” John started the speech and you scanned the men sitting in front of you. Some of them were looking fine, mostly the older ones who have been through similar stuff before.

Your eyes couldn’t miss Noah. He was beautiful, you thought, until his eyes met yours. It was just for a second, because he moved his gaze to the ground, but even the second was all you needed to know that he was for sure not okay. He had dark circles under his eyes, so he probably didn’t sleep much since the call. His eyes screamed “tired” at you and his whole appearance just gave him away. But it wasn’t just him, few more guys seemed to have the same feelings like Noah did.

“I heard you lost your colleagues that night. I’m sorry, that is always the hardest part.” you saw wave of emotions go though the room after you said that. “How about we start with how was the shift before the last call. Anyone wants to tell me?”

There was a moment of silence, but one of the older guys broke it. “It was shit of day honestly. It was busy shift for all of us, I think I can speak for everyone that when we went to sleep before the last call we just really wished that the sleep is gonna be at least until the end of the shift.” and you saw few of them nod their heads in agreement, which was great start.

“Oh really? What were your other calls?” you asked.

Another man started talking “Just a regular calls I’d say, car accidents, but nothing serious. Then two false alarms which is always annoying, but one of them was in school, so we at least had some fun with the kids.”

As you and John navigated the discussion towards the last call, you noticed Noah and two other guys were not really present. When everyone was nodding or laughing along, they didn’t. But you knew those reactions are okay too, everyone handles their emotions differently.

When John finally asked about the call the mood in the room shifted, but everyone was still talking with you and John.

“It was horrible. I was not even inside when the explosion happened, but hearing it outside and not knowing what’s going on was scary.” was the first confession of feelings and then it was easier for everyone else to speak up.

“I saw him fly like two metres above the ground before he fell. I knew he’s not gonna make it when I saw his body on the ground. I didn’t want to go check on him, but I had to.” guy with a mustache talked about seeing one of his colleagues lose his life.

Those sessions don’t have particular time stop, unless there’s nothing more to talk about, you’re leading the discussion.

At the end you always ask everyone to promise you they don’t have anything else they need to talk about and that they know they did everything they could. Everyone always does, but you know not everyone means it. Just like you know Noah didn’t mean a single letter when he muttered ‘I’m okay.’ in the end.

“Captain I think it was mostly successful briefing, but keep an eye on them. You can call me or John anytime you need us.” you shook your hand with the captain and made your way to your car.

Before you left the station, you saw Noah cleaning the front of their Ladder and took that as a chance to speak to him.

“Hi. You don’t have to tell me anything, I know everyone handles their emotions differently. But I can see that you’re tired and maybe overwhelmed by the situation. Don’t be scared to reach out if you need.”

“Yeah whatever.” was Noah’s answer, but he still took your card and put it in his pocket.

------

But since the tragic call Noah couldn’t get back on track at the job. He felt better, but still not good enough to give his job 100%.

“That’s enough Sebastian. You’re going to see the department’s therapist or you’re on desk duty.”

“What?” Noah faced his captain next to the vehicle they just used to extinguish small garden fire.

“You’re not yourself since the call Noah, you need help.” Captain said as gentle as possible. He didn’t blame Noah for being affected by the call, but it was dangerous for him and for his crew.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t need any help.”

“You yelled at a kid today Noah.”

“But that was for his own safety.”

“Really? Didn’t have to anything with the gas bomb they had close to the fire? Or what about last week’s call to the clothes factory when you demanded to know if they have any gas or another explosive things in there? Or week before that when you went for safety check up and yelled at a woman for not having a fire system installed?”

Noah didn’t have any answer, because he knew all of his reactions were because he became extremely nervous after that call. He always hated when people didn’t think about their safety enough, but he never yelled at someone because of it.

“I want you to see a therapist or you’ll sit behind the desk. I want the first session this week and I want a paper that says you’re able to do the job while going to therapy. We’re short on people Noah I don’t want you to sit behind a desk and wait for months to have your papers signed, so please, help both you and me and do something.”

----

When Noah came home after that shift, he grabbed the small paper that was on his table since the briefing and texted you “Hi, are you free this week for a therapy?”

---

This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

----

Tag list: @lacy1986 @concretejunglefm @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrscevans

If you want to be tagged click here

[skythealmighty]

haha i love when i struggle with multiple hyperfixations at once. i am a coward for not making a crossover between allnof them but like. worldbuilding hard stfu

#rocket talk #the hyperfixes: #tmnt #inanimate insanity #bfdi #dsmp #the last one mostly spurred on by the stupid shit dreams doing #love clowning on that fool

(0 notes)

🤍 notalwayssecondplace Follow

i love how people are reblogging gi's hit post like it isnt a sign of his crippling inability to deal with change or to come to terms with his own self

anyway on other news i have a bunch of ideas for a new d&d campaign!

#i love my cousin but he really really needs therapy #like REALLY really

(12 notes)

🔧 warp-pipe-sfx Follow

I just realized... why do we call it "humanity"? Shouldn't it be "objectity"? IS it that in some universes? Can we claim universes that use "humanity" all once had humans???

⛳ bossy-bot Follow

Hello! Golf Ball from the BFDI universe here. I can confirm we use 'humanity' because we have, and also have had, humans. I cannot say for other universes though.

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

Fan II at your service! we use both- humans are kind of a myth for the most part. depends on how religious you are sometimes

💊 the-cringe-one Follow

Cringe Pill, TDOS- 'objectity' is the main term we use. Hadn't even heard of humans until Real Life Battle, honestly

👓 the-nerdiest-glasses Follow

guys, you're way overthinking this. here one sec

add in the tags what universe you're from (and if you picked humanity, if you know why add that too)

🔧 warp-pipe-sfx Follow

Oh, hadn't even thought of that...

#Goes to show you can be as smart as you want and still be stupid 😅 #Very curious to see the responses

(351,294 notes)

🎩 not-a-magician asked: Hi, I've been seeing people ask you for advice on auras and mental wellness and things... do you have anything for sleeping? I don't know if I have insomnia, but I've definitely had some trouble sleeping lately. I'm tired as hell but can't seem to just. Do it. Any advice at all would mean the world to me, really

🕯 litwick-in-real-life Follow

(Reminder to all: my advice on here is not meant to replace professional help by any means. If this is the cause of underlying trauma, please turn to therapy and not Tumblr. I'm not licensed yet.)

Thank you so much for the ask! While I'm sorry to admit sleep habits are not something I'm particularly versed in, I will give advice to the best of my ability as always. Best wishes on your journey to heal ^-^

Full advice below the cut to save space, as always!

Keep reading

#mental wellness #sleep habits #sleep #candle's light advice #not-a-magician

(14 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

ive come to a realization

you're welcome

#tpot #gravity falls #bfdi #one bfdi #bill cipher #i spent way too fucking long on this #if anyone's done this before me don't tell me please #also please dont come after me one THIS ISNT AN INSULT

(931 notes)

👿 darkness-reigns-supreme-3882 Follow

WHY THE FUCK AM I GREEN NOW?!

👿 darkness-reigns-supreme-3882 Follow

GREEN ISN'T INTIMIDATING. GREEN IS STUPID. GREEN IS ~nature~ AND ~healing~ AND PEOPLE WHO GET STUCK UP ON MOUNTAINS!!!!!

👿 darkness-reigns-supreme-3882 Follow

there will be hell to pay for this.

#i SWEAR if who i thought did this did this.

(2 notes)

✅ marker-the-green Follow

Ummm why did I just get a bunch of hate dms after I changed my username? I thought these were over :[

#It's the same guy too.... #oh wait right I unblocked him since he stopped

(7 notes)

📱 phone-guy-not-fnaf Follow

Finally getting therapy ✌ unfortunately my therapist says it's not productive to be literally dancing on my dead father's grave. that beign said tune into my next stream where we do dares at his gravestone

(374 notes)

🗒 meme-pad Follow

how to stop water in pot from burning? tried to cook ramen and failed

🗒 meme-pad Follow

i did not mean to type this in google im crowdsourcing

🎩 not-a-magician Follow

What the hell did you do?!

🗒 meme-pad Follow

NOTHING

#wait u have a tumnlr?

(1,279 notes)

📛 loud-and-proud Follow

i know this is ironic because of my username but uh. does anyone have any advice for being in love w your best bro and not knowing how to say it

🎚 all-about-dat-bass Follow

bro... im right here...

📛 loud-and-proud Follow

bro... so... is that a yes?

🎚 all-about-dat-bass Follow

hell YEAH, bro!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

📛 loud-and-proud Follow

no way... i love you dude ❤

🎚 all-about-dat-bass Follow

love you too man ❤

📕 imnotafuckingdiary Follow

Fucking finally

#They were SO BAD off screen #Definitely didn't expect this on Tumblr of all places though.

(72 notes)

🥧 threepointonefourwhatever Follow

time sensitive question: is it possible to get sued by algebraliens

🥧 threepointonefourwhatever Follow

this was posted literal months ago why are you idiots still reblogging it.

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

I mean~... if you want help not getting sued, I could always lend a theoretical hand?

🥧 threepointonefourwhatever Follow

no soliciting

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

That's not what "no soliciting" means, you know.

🥧 threepointonefourwhatever Follow

suck my dick

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

Haha, rude! I'm only offering help, you know.

🥧 threepointonefourwhatever Follow

go away you bill cipher wannabe or ill bite into you like a stale dorito

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

I can find you, you know.

🥧 threepointonefourwhatever Follow

lol

#im about to do whats called a pro gamer move

(240,163 notes)

🥧 threepointonefourwhatever Follow

i blocked her 🎉

[sunlessea]

he supposes it doesn't think him the type for such serious reminiscing. how it would have gawked in awe, had it ever met him in his days as a helsing pup proper - such a noble heir he'd once been, with his head held high on his shoulder, presenting himself above everyone around him, most of all masters like itself. he's thankful it hadn't, though. he's not sure he ever could've looked at it with such kindness as he does now, in his time as cassius ashburnum. it never would have trusted him again, had it been irons he had fought that day he burned the bazaar down, rather than mr fires. now, he can rest his hands at either side of its neck and it does not seem to even consider the possibly that he would wrap them around its neck.

the thought had been there, when they'd first begun interacting. it had assumed this a ploy of some sort, to hunt it, surely. in this position, he could kill it, if he tried. catch it by some manner of surprise, and finish a job long forgotten. it trusts him, he notes, as he gently strokes his thumb along its jawline. its ears are flat 'gainst its head, claws gentle alone his sides ... as much as they can be, from a beast not accustomed to playing so nice.

"i believe that you trust me, and i don't think you could trust me if you didn't love me. but i also believe that if someone is incapable of telling another person their feelings out loud ... then they don't love them enough." his answer is honest, where he has not always been. his hands lower from its shoulders again to gently tug at some of the fabric its bundled in, layer upon layer of cloaks. they were already falling off as it had been, but now he parts some of them further. it is only enough, in the end, to expose some small section of its chest - enough that he may slip his hand underneath and sprawl his palm open over the lacking beat of its heart. there's no gentle thrum inside of it, like his own, no candle lit for mr irons to feign its humanity.

he wonders, yet doesn't ask. maybe it's never had very much reason to wish for human things : a heartbeat, air, passion, pleasure, love, tears, raw emotion. just like him, in an age long past. but he desires now, more than anything. enough for both of them, how his heart races, his cheeks flush, his eyes water.

but maybe it isn't so far off.

"how fondly? in what ways do you think of me? fondly enough that you want to kiss me, but not so that you will tell me that you love me. you don't know your own heart, do you? you didn't even know you had one." he is patient, even when he isn't. his own ears flatten, his expression both lonesome and yearning in his understanding. he would wait forever ... but watching the pieces slowly fall into place makes his heart ache. he wants it to love him so badly. he wants it to want him, too. "you say carnality, i just call it romance. i'm used to being misunderstood, but i want you to understand me. as a poet of veilgarden, i've turned down countless men and women in this city who sought carnal pleasure. i can't let someone touch me who doesn't love me. i just can't. my heart is my body and if anyone ever took advantage of my heart, i would kill myself."

his dramatics do not end with everyday banter or vivacious teases - but even through flowery self deprecation, he is so very serious. its hands on his hips stabilize him, however, giving him something to focus on so he doesn't lose himself in romantic reverie. by time he is done with its cloaks, the last bits of them only cling to irons' arms, and that is not something he can push off on his own. so he stares down at it, fingers tracing lines of its muscles once more. his expression is far away, distant, but not sad. he's lost in thought, paying mind to every spot that makes it shudder when his fingers move over them. it's more sensitive than he'd thought.

it grabs his attention again when it speaks, and he looks up at it with wide, doe - like eyes, curious and contemplative. before it even clarifies the heavy burden it offers him, he's taken by it, his tail swaying gently behind him with expectation. the more secure it squeezes his hips as it lifts itself to sit with him on its lap, the faster his tail starts to wag, ears at last perking up once more. for how seriously he'd worn his melancholy, his expression melts easily into tender reverence, smile 'pon his lips with narrowed eyes as their noses touch. he shifts with it, raising his arms up to wrap 'round its shoulders and pull it in closer so they can sit comfortably face - to - face. "you are not a burden, mr irons. your heart is a gift."

maybe he should've expected it to kiss him, how it had been shifting to close the space 'tween them again ... but he is still a little surprised, all the same. the second time it less brutal than the first, and as a result, less awkward - the harsh press of its lips 'gainst his own is much less feral, though still quite rough. it's charming, in a way. he thinks this is its attempt at kindness, and he does not tease it for that. he falls into line, pulling it down harder by its shoulders and letting it part his lips against its once more, 'til its tongue finds his own. he's able to shift in its lap until his legs comfortably rest at its sides, knees pressing into its thighs as his fingers tangle through its hair. its need is met by his own passion, a loving romantic at his core, even in the depths of spiraling desire, albeit of a purer context than his admissions of fantasy would suggest.

humanity is hardly so simple for those born inhuman. to neatly box the wild and often inconsistent flux of its feelings into something kine could comprehend, to balance learned nature with its basal instinct—its love resulting comes intertwined with a certain hunger. and that is difficult to explain, more than just a comfortable warmth against its chest, more than excitement, or an ache in its stomach, it is, above all else, an intense and indomitable craving. it feels it 'cross every inch of its body, inside and out, with every kiss he steals and how earnestly he wraps himself around it.

the way he touches it drives it absolutely mad, in a way it is not wholly certain that it actually minds : it is naught like anything it, personally, had it proffer a more accurate definition, fantasized, and it thinks it might then be the surprise of it that leaves it feeling so willfully captured. his fingers tracing 'gainst subtle ripples of muscle and skin follow a trail so delightfully sensitive in ways it could never have expected, untouched as it had been in its self-imposed isolation. it likes the warmth it feels 'neath his palms, against his body, his breath against its lips the few moments their lips part and how it feels his breathing quiver with each slow, arduous draw of its tongue over the wound begged-open 'neath its teeth; it likes how he always beckons it closer with his blood still on its tongue, deepening their kiss with venture of his own will. it likes how its body cannot decide, in continued conflict of its own heart, if it should purr or growl, and how often it alternates 'tween both muffled by his lips.

not to say that it is without surprise when his body shifts. though it is, perhaps, more muted a shock than t'would otherwise be, were he any other. and it may as well be purely for the lack of force, rather than strength—it feels when his leg hooks even tighter 'cross its back, the subtle pressure of his heel pressing into its side, but this too feels more like he is simply beckoning it follow his lead. and that is the bigger surprise, how simply it relents.

this, yes, has it growl. but that is merely natural response for any predator proper pushed to such a vulnerable point. even fully clothed, having rolled gently 'pon its back with his encouragement, it feels so exposed laying beneath him! it mourns the taste of him, same as the pressure of his lips, but it is stalled in its own personal languishing by how sternly he seems look back at it—it can't recall a moment he's ever been so, even when they'd first met. and that, more than anything, piques its interest and begs its attention.

better would it be the sort of blushing maiden with heat rushing to flood her cheeks at such a thought, than how stone-faced it is in their reality. there is no pretty poetry to weave how it stares up at him, wide-eyed and ears slowly pressing 'gainst its head for cause of ... not embarrassment, quite, but something like— it has heard far cruder things, years passed before they ever crossed paths, but it thinks it is his clarification most that his its chest constrict, fang pulling the soft flesh of its cheek 'neath to chew as it tries to pretend it is not quite so affected as it most certainly is. it is not shy, but it is not ... this particularly brazen, either. he definitely is special.

" do you believe i love you? " its voice feels particularly hoarse, even to it : and it presumes it is only cause for how often it was stolen in their heated exchange, every gasp or moan or plea stifled by each their eager tongues. but even so, its tone is cautious; careful, where what little inflection it is able to offer cannot otherwise be misconstrued for rejection. its chest aches too, feeling how his hands continue making their way 'cross its skin, the bulk of its body, but that nagging pull has grown increasingly familiar in the passing weeks. it considers itself lucky merely only shuddering when his fingers brush over dips along its body that are more sensitive than most. the tension ebbs and flows, but its fixation 'pon him is unwavering.

it thinks its gaze shakes while he speaks, rapt, a subtle quiver align with the occasional shiver that runs its way through its body. it's a far different tone than how he has ever approached it—and yet, it is somehow just the same. desire spoken from the heart, a romantic at his core, no matter how salacious the tale he could weave, he hardly need speak of the love he feels for it for it to comprehend. it hurts when it swallows, 'round the growing lump in its throat.

" it ... is true, the subjects of which my thoughts have drifted to. i have thought about what it might have been like to kiss you more than i am open to admit. though i do— ... did not understand the process. i desired to. i do think of you fondly. in numerous ways, and that is strange to me. " like would he be to forgive it, its quiet voice; barely above murmur, that, as it gradually takes to unraveling its hold 'round his waist, slowly pulling its hands down over his hips as it speaks, " i would never think less of you for carnality. i think you are naive, at your best, but physicality or need for is hardly my concern. i do not understand you, or what you have done to me. of that, i feel as if i no longer know myself. "

his hair tickles its cheek, its jaw; shrouds them where what few parts of its cloaks still cling to it offer little protection from the intensity of his gaze. " it is a heavy burden to ask of you, elysium, but ... " it starts, but pauses soon after; its hands have settled neatly over his hips, and though it does squeeze them long enough to beckon even more of his attention, it uses its tight grip as means to steady itself as it lifts itself up to brush its nose up 'gainst his own. once more, merely a breath apart—and it really does savor the feeling, nearly more than the blood it still knows clings to his lips. and its too, though it's quick to swipe that away as it pulls itself closer to him. hands travelling slow from hip to side, pressing down gently 'long the slight curve of his waist. " —perhaps you might be willing to bring clarity to my own heart? " it has not suddenly become anymore confident in the gesture as it had started. but it is difficult to be too clumsy, this close. no sooner has it finished speaking before it closes the distance; and once more, it pushes its lips hard against his own. not in curiosity, or even impulse : it needs him.

[promiscuousasexual]

oh my fucking god lee are you seeing these rumors about esteban allegedly getting into physical fights and being difficult to work with? why the fuck are people just blindly believing one anon’s claims? like what fucking evidence is there for this shit? why would they renew esteban for 3 years if this shit was true? i’m genuinely getting really pissed off rn with this whole situation

and if people want to call it pulling the race card then fine but it makes me so uncomfortable that people are trying to painting someone with North African heritage as violent and aggressive…

are you fucking serious? i haven’t seen any of that and frankly i don’t believe any of it

although one things clear, the second anything negative is said about esteban whether there’s any evidence for it or not, people will absolutely jump at the chance to attack him. i saw so many people say they started hating esteban after dts and i was just ??? cause i thought we all agreed that we can’t just blindly trust dts?? and that most of it is bs?? but i guess when it’s esteban it’s a different story.

i try not reveal too much about my personal life on here, but as someone who has interned for multiple teams and circuits (and i mean A LOT), none of them have anything bad to say about esteban ever, almost every employee who has ever interacted with him has said how he’s so sweet and grateful and always makes sure to thank everyone around him, and when i interacted with him briefly, still in the context of working at a circuit, he was so welcoming and friendly. (and that’s honestly the reason he’s my fav)

people will always tell poc that we’re pulling the race card so atp speak your truth. f1 is so predominantly white and they will never listen to a single thing we say ever, i’ve seen so many people say we’re over dramatic for bringing up the racism and that there isn’t any but that’s also the same shit my white friends told me when i was the only poc in the friend group and they were excluding me so what does that say about them.

you’re so 100% right about how the portrayal of esteban as aggressive and violent is due to racism because there is quite literally no other reason for it. “oh it’s cause he’s aggressive on track” yeah, so is every other fucking driver cause it’s a fucking race, fuck right off i’ve never seen this shit with other drivers