#let my demon driver win again

[lululovesprongs]

idc i’ll always love max bc i too am a perfectionist who seethes and rages when someone dares to beat me at something bc anything less than winning is a failure in my eyes 😜✌️✌️

[macabr3-barbi3]

pretty wings- Vox/fallen angel!Reader

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55237840

A Good Samaritan- a rare commodity in Hell- helps Vox to his car in the rain. How can he ever repay her?

(There's a second chapter now!)

Tags: wing kink; angel wings; fallen angels; vaginal sex; couch sex; fantasizing; begging; switching? maybe idk; Vox has a lil crush <3

💙❤️💙❤️💙

How it still manages to rain in Hell when there is no real atmosphere, he would never understand. Vox had never really liked the rain, even when he was alive- all it ever meant was canceled plans, systems going down, deep shitty puddles that got his shoes and pants wet and dirty. Like now, standing off the back porch of the restaurant he had just finished a meeting in, waiting for his fucking assistant to answer his goddamn phone and call a driver for him so he could go the fuck home since he couldn’t walk to his car. 

He had been standing under the awning of the restaurant for twenty minutes now. The rain showed no sign of letting up, his meeting partners had all left, and Vox was fucked. He couldn’t go back inside- what kind of fucking loser goes back into an establishment after paying their tab, and for what? To ask for an umbrella? He’d rather die again. And if his assistant didn’t pick up his phone real fucking soon, someone would absolutely be dying today. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

He sighs internally, sets his charm to its max setting and the brightness of his screen up before he turns towards your voice. “So sorry, doll, I’m afraid I’m all out of time for photo ops today!” 

You raise an eyebrow, and he lets his gaze travel over your form. You looked relatively normal for a demon, your face still pretty human besides the two horns that came off your skull. Your eyes were wide and yellow, a heavy coat draped over your shoulders as you looked at him- not that much shorter, he noted, which was a nice change of pace from talking to Velvette all the time and having to crane basically in half to meet her eyes.

“That’s… not what I was going to ask.” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, and can feel his screen glitch on his smile as he watches you. “An interview then? Look, you can contact my people but I am really not in the-”

“What I was going to ask,” you interrupt him, and Vox fights down the wave of annoyance at having been cut off, “was if you needed help.”

His face screws up and he means to immediately deny. “Absolutely not. I’m perfectly fine-”

“Are you?”

And that was going to get annoying fast if you kept doing that, he thought to himself.

“You’ve been standing out here for close to half an hour and glaring at your phone. I don’t think its crazy to assume that you need some assistance with something having to do with the rain.” You look him over, much the same way that he had done to you. “I would imagine that the whole ‘TV head’ thing you have going on doesn’t mix well with precipitation.”

Well, you had him there. “You’re not wrong,” he admits testily. “But my assistant will be sending someone to drive me soon. I’ll be fine.” He flashes you a winning smile.

“I mean, I guess you could wait for your assistant to answer your calls- doesn’t seem like you’re having much luck with reaching them.” You cross your arms over your chest, and- nope, Vox was not going to stand out here in the rain and ogle some random sinner’s tits. He redirects his gaze. “Or you could let me either walk you to your car or walk with you to wherever you’re going.”

He throws you a side eye and sighs heavily, letting his head drop back before rolling an eye down to look at you. “You don’t look like you have an umbrella,” he says, crossing his arms now as well. “How exactly are we getting to my car?”

You give him a smile that shorts a fuse in his head for a moment, wide and earnest and pretty. “Who needs an umbrella?” You shrug one of your shoulders and the coat you’re wearing starts to slide off your shoulders. Vox makes a move to stop the slide like a gentleman, keep the coat covering your body and stop it from slipping into a puddle, when it rises up off your back and comes to cover the both of you. He sees black feathers interspersed with white spots as the bottom comes into view, and he realizes it wasn’t a coat at all.

You had wings. Big, powerful wings by the look of it- the part connected to your back didn’t shake under the weight of the limb being extended over your heads. He stared at them; he knew he was staring, that you might think it was strange, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was mesmerizing. Thrilling.

He feels a spark of arousal shoot through him at the sight of them, and his plans change for the night. You’re pretty, and the curves of your body are appealing, but the wings. He wants to explore them. Wants to tease you with your own feathers. To run his fingers over them and watch you struggle to maintain this composure you have. He’s confident in his ability to get you home with him- maybe offer a drink as thanks for your help or something. 

“Sure, I guess you can walk me to my car,” he says, feigning an air of disinterest despite the twitch in his cock. “It’s not every day one meets a sinner so giving- I might as well take advantage!” He sees the flinch that shoots across your face, making your wing tremble, but you straighten up and stiffen your shoulders, gesturing out to the street being beaten by the rain.

“Lead the way.”

He steps out from under the awning and is delighted when your wing does, in fact, shelter the both of you from the weather. You bring the second wing out to block any rain from blowing under the first with the wind, and Vox is fucking obsessed with the subtle muscle of them, the careful strength in the way that you adjust the angle of them to keep him dry. It seems subconscious, the movement of them, as Vox gave you directions to where he had parked earlier when the sky was dry and he had thought he could enjoy a nice walk after his meeting. 

A piece of paper, litter off the ground, comes flying under the shelter you were providing him aiming right for his screen. He brings up a hand to block it- wet paper wouldn’t do any real damage but it was still annoying- when the tip of the wing over your head dips down slightly, catches it with a corner, and flings it off to the side. A drop of water manages to fly off the thing and splatter on his screen. You give him a smile, apology on your lips at being unable to prevent the attack. You turn back to the cars in front of you, looking for the electric blue of his vehicle that he had described to you.

Vox wants you spread out in his bed, he decides. Your wings splayed out behind you in whatever position he decided to take you- he would work with anything. He could trace his fingers over the delicate bones with you on your back as he drilled into you; grab a fistful of feathers while he fucks you from behind, use that leverage to sink his cock into you as far as he could manage; let you unfurl them from your back while you ride him so they cover you both like a blanket, seal yourselves off from the rest of the world and let the only light you see be his screen in the darkness of it.

“Sir?” 

He blinks hard a couple times and realizes that you’ve reached his car, and you’re standing there in the rain illuminated by the few streetlights that reach this back corner. Your eyebrow is cocked at him in amusement, wings still suspended over him. “I think walking you over here defeats the purpose if you don’t actually get in the car.”

“Right, right!” He touches a claw to the vehicle and it roars to life as he grabs the handle and maneuvers himself inside of it. He looks up at you now, the positions reversed, and his breath catches in his throat, cock throbbing. You’re magnificent like this, wings still hanging above you and slightly over the car to make sure no moisture can reach him. The rest of your body is relaxed but he can see it in his head, the way that you would look tense with pleasure, eyes clenched shut and mouth hanging open. 

You give him a smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.” 

The vague chagrin that shoots through him does nothing to quell the erection rapidly growing in his pants. “I was going to say thank you,” he insists, and the way you laugh has him wanting to inject the sound into his fucking veins. “Can I- can I give you a ride home? You know, as thanks for walking me over here, making sure I don’t get waterlogged.”

You look like you’re going to refuse at first but then you shrug. “Sure. It’s not too far, if you really don’t mind.”

Fuck yes! The processors in his head are whirring, wondering how best to convince you to come back to his place on the way to yours. Or fuck, maybe he could just join you at your place. He wasn’t picky about where the fucking happened, as long as it did. He was desperate for it, to have you gasping for him while he plucked at your pretty wings with his cock nestled deep inside your pussy.

The passenger door opens and you enter the car with your knees on the leather seat. He questions it for only a moment before you lean back and shake your wings viciously outside the vehicle, dispersing as much of the water as you can before you sit normally in the seat. You buckle up and give him a sweet smile, pointing a slender finger to the other side of the parking lot where the exit is.

He can’t remember being so fucking turned on before as he puts some music on and starts driving. Sure, he had his fun with Val and sometimes some of his actors between scenes and shit, the occasional fangirl or one of Velvette’s models but just being aroused by the presence of someone? Who wasn’t actively trying to seduce him? Was just sitting in the passenger seat of his car while he drove her home?

It was new, and it was exciting, and God, those fucking wings…

They’re tucked delicately behind you, the black of your feathers contrasting nicely with the deep red leather of his seats. He’d never seen a demon with wings like these before- they were usually attached to the arms of them or draped off the back. More for decoration than anything else; even Val’s wings weren’t so prehensile and flexible, he thought, thinking about the way the tip had dipped down to sling that piece of paper away from him.

“So, your wings-”

“We’re here,” you say with a grin, the car not even having left the parking lot.

“What? I- here? ” He does stop the vehicle before looking over at you, craning his neck forward to look at a building that sat kitty corner to the restaurant he had his meeting in.

“I told you it wasn’t far.” He can hear the giggle in your voice. “How else do you think I saw you standing out here the whole time? I could see the glow of your screen from my window. Figured I would offer a hand since you didn’t look like you were making much progress.”

He stares at you. He hadn’t had time to try to convince you to spend more time with him- to convince you to let him get his hands on those feathers.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You’re reaching for the door handle when he blurts out, “wait!”

And thank fuck, you do. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised but your hand stops reaching. He clears his throat, fixes you with what he hopes is a suave look. “Let me thank you,” he says. “We can go grab a drink at my place- or I can buy you dinner, if you’d rather do that. Order some takeout if you want to stay home.” Smile wide, he waits for you to respond.

Bells and whistles ring in his head as you buckle back up. “I’m down on one condition.”

“Name it, doll,” is his immediate response, and he’s only a little embarrassed at the speed with which he spoke. “Really, I want to give you a proper show of gratitude- there’s no way this counts. Whatever you want.”

A crooked little smile graces your face. “Can I get your name?”

He can almost feel the error message crawl across the bottom of his screen; he doesn’t know what it says but he watches your eyes follow the scrawl of words, the real reason he knew it was there. “Vox,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.” He leaves off what is obvious to anyone else- Overlord of Hell, Media Mastermind, TV demon on the fast track to ruling Pentagram city. If you didn’t already know these things then you had to be new- that explained the blatant disrespect earlier, interrupting him, dismissing his words. If you didn’t know he wouldn’t tell you yet. He would win you over and get you onto a horizontal surface without his reputation; preferably with his sharp tongue, strong fingers and thick cock if he had a choice in the matter.

“Vox.” You repeat his name, and it sounds so sweet and innocent that he can’t wait for you to scream it out in ecstasy. You give him your name in return as he pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards Vee Tower.

The silence is comfortable on the relatively short drive, Vox pulling the car into the basement garage of Vee Tower and quietly relishing in the fascinated expression on your face when someone comes to grab the keys to park his car as he leads you to the elevator. “You’re some kind of hotshot, huh?” You ask, lashes fluttering at him in a way that makes his knees weak.

“Something like that, doll,” he says, smile wide while you take it all in. Even just the garage is sophisticated and impressive, and he wishes he could see it through your eyes. He notices your raised eyebrows at the push of the button for the penthouse, but you don’t say anything. “So, your wings- are you some kind of bird?”

A tight smile. “Something like that, doll,” you parrot back to him. “That’s more of a second date question, I think.”

Second date. Was this your first date? Fuck, he should have called his assistant ahead of time and made him get something prepared fresh- gotten some fucking good champagne in- swapped out his comfortable sheets for the silk ones that his bed partners were nuts for even if he didn’t really care for them. But his assistant was fucking useless tonight, evidenced by the fact of your being here in the first place since he couldn’t get a car to fetch him.

Vox might not have met you if he had answered the phone though- so maybe he would let it slide.

He leads you out of the elevator into his home, the lights of Pentagram City casting a lovely red glow over your body. “Nice view.” You stand by it, the white tips of your wings illuminated where the light shone through. He comes to stand beside you in front of the couch, and you give him a pretty smile. “I do have a question though.”

“What’s that?” He has his phone out, firing off one last text to his assistant - "If I don’t hear back from you in the next ten minutes I’m swapping your contract for one of Val’s. FUCKING ANSWER ME” should get his message across- and missing the narrowing of your eyes when you turn back to face him.

“Do you know that you aren’t subtle?” You hook an ankle around the back of his leg and yank, sending him toppling backwards into the couch, his phone hitting the cushion next to you. He has only a brief moment to flounder, wonder what the fuck was happening, before you were straddling his lap, knees on either sides of his thighs and your skirt pulled taut between your legs. “See, I really couldn’t tell if you thought you were. I figured I would ask.”

“What?” He can’t find the power to do anything but watch with his eyes wide while you slide your hands down his chest and settle into his space, the warmth of your cunt palpable through his trousers where you rest against his rapidly hardening prick. “What do you-”

“Ah, you don’t know. Cute.” The word makes him twitch, and when he opens his mouth to protest what comes out instead is a choked off whine as you roll your hips into him. “I like my men a little cute- when they think they’re being so suave and sexy but all they can think about is getting their hands on my body. Or my wings, in this case.” As you mention them you let them puff up a little behind you, spread out ever so slightly so Vox could get a better look. His breath catches- silhouetted by the glow of the city behind you, you were breathtaking. 

“What gave me away, doll?” He could deny, but what was the point in that? The night was already progressing the way that he wanted. You were perhaps a little more forward than he was expecting, but he could work with that. As long as it ended with your pussy swallowing up his cock he would be a happy demon.

You laughed, the sound like a bell in the silence of his place as he settles his hands on your hips. “Besides the blatant ogling of them when I first brought them out and the whole way across the parking lot, you mean? You had an error message in the car running across your screen just here-” You lean down and lick across the lower right corner of his face. “You wanna know what it said?”

“Enlighten me.” He’s amazed he can still get a word out with the blood rushing to his cock, hard length pressed against you where you’re seated on his lap.

“‘Pretty wings,’ it said.” Your fingers come down to undo his belt, whipping it from the loops of his pants. Vox nearly chokes on his tongue when you pull his cock out, already hard and leaking in your hand as you tighten your grip. “Suuuper cute. Over and over.” You lift your hips a bit, shoving your skirt up near your hips and hovering over his length. “I wanna hear it instead of reading it though- can you say it for me, pretty boy?”

You skim his tip through the slickness between your legs, and his brain short circuits when he realizes that you haven’t been wearing panties. “Fuck me,” he manages to laugh out. “Was this your plan the whole time? Play the good Samaritan to get me home so you could ride my cock?”

You shake your head and let yourself sink down the slightest bit, a breathy moan leaving your throat as his head is swallowed by your tight, wet heat. “Not initially. I really was just trying to be a nice person.” You throw him a wink, pulling away when he tries to thrust up and not allowing him to get any deeper inside of you. “Come on now- give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.”

Fuck, if that doesn’t shoot straight to his prick. “Pretty wings,” he murmurs, letting one of his hands leave your hip to brush against the soft feathers. “They’re beautiful. Strong. Fuckin’ perfect.” With each word you slide down further until you’re fully seated on his cock. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“That’s it, baby,” you say, and shift your hips forward to get him where you want him. “You were thinking about this, yeah?” With a downward grind you let your wings unfurl completely, filling his vision with a flash of feathers that blocks the light of the city from reaching him. A ripple runs through them, the tremor rolling all the way from top to tip and the feeling is imitated around his cock, your tight walls rippling.

He doesn’t whine, thank you very much. But a broken drawn out sound does escape his mouth, screen thrown back over the back of the couch. He can’t bare to fucking look at you with how perfect the moment is, the sight and sound and sensation of you stuffed with his cock better than he could have imagined. “I wanna touch them,” he says, but when he reaches his fingers out you wrap your hands around his wrists, surprising strength in your redirection of his palms to your chest.

“Can we say ‘please’, pretty boy?” You let your wings flutter, a gust of wind blowing across his face from the movement, moaning when his prick hits a soft spot inside you that makes you gush around his length. “I’ll let you touch them if you ask nicely.”

His pride fights him for a moment- this wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to go, with him at your mercy instead of the other way around. He had wanted you under him, wings spread across his mattress and feathers fisted in his hands while he fucked you.

“I’ll give you a demonstration of what I’m looking for,” you offer, and then your lashes are fluttering, eyes rolling back into your head and a whine falling forth from your mouth. “Oh fuck, Vox , baby, please.”

Pride flies out the window in favor of the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock. “Please, sweetheart,” he says, and he lets his clawed thumbs roll over the pebbles of your nipples where you hold him against your chest. “Let me touch them? I’ll be real gentle with you, baby.”

You pick up the pace, releasing his hands and bringing your wings forward, bordering him on either side so all he can see is you. “That’s what I like to hear,” you whisper with a grin, bracing your hands on his shoulders and properly riding him now, the slick sound of your body taking him in echoing in the emptiness of his living room.

He lifts his trembling palms from your chest and brushes the tips of his claws along the bottoms of your wings, feathers gliding softly over his digits- the sensation makes you moan, another gentle ripple running through them. He fists his hands in them, pulling lightly like he might at someone’s hair, and your wet heat pulses around him, pussy tight like you mean to keep him inside of you forever. He wants that- wants to stay buried where he currently is until Hell falls to pieces around you.

His phone rings on the couch beside him, the call taking over his screen moments later. Vox doesn’t want to let go of your wings, having just gotten his hands on them- with a shake of his head the call is dismissed, only to immediately come back and take over his face again. “God fucking-”

You lift a hand from his shoulder and answer the call, a right swipe and a wicked smile leading to Vox’s assistant’s voice filling the space between you and him. “-and I am SO. SORRY. Sir I swear, I have never had my phone on silent like this before-” He continues his rant, and Vox struggles to remember why he was even calling right now- he was fucking busy, damn it, what the fuck.

“-understand that you’re upset, but please, sir, I’ll do better, just don’t send me to Valentino-”

“Better answer him,” you whisper to Vox, dragging your tongue up the side of his screen, hips grinding down. “If I cum before the call ends I’ll leave.”

Graceful fingers slide down your body to rub at your own clit, moaning prettily into the side of his face while his assistant rambled in his ear. Vox was going to fucking combust.

“Just- fuck, man, shut up. It’s fine.” You chuckle into his shirt, deft fingers unbuttoning it and raking your claws down his chest. “ Jesus fuck, I- no, not you. It’s fine. We’ll talk in the morning-”

“But sir if you still need a ride-”

“I fucking found a ride, alright,” he mutters darkly, tightening his grip on your wings in one hand and letting the other trail firmly along the top of it, all the way down to the tip. The feathers seem to shiver in his grasp and your cunt clenches around him, threatens to pull him over the edge with how close you are. “Call me in the morning. Now f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞. ”

Voice files corrupted, he disconnects the call, reaches his hands around your back to finger at the base of your wings, the skin there taut and sensitive if the keening groan you let off into his shirt is anything to go by. “Fuck me, you feel divine,” he mutters, and you choke off a chuckle at the word. “Let me feel you, angel, cum on my cock.”

“N- naughty men that don’t say please don’t get to make demands,” you say, and he could tease you, could pull your hand away from your clit and make you hover right on the edge of release. But he was a selfish man, and could admit that he wanted the feeling of you coming undone around him more than he wanted to be right.

“Please, baby, please,” he begs, and you hiss through your teeth at the sound of his pleading, sweet and low, the slightest hint of static to his voice. “God, fucking d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛, please, l- let me w̡̻̻̣͚̒̀ͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅh̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡-”

““Oh fuck, Vox, baby, please-” Less sarcastic this time despite the half formed smile on your face, and the teasing lilt to it is ruined by the clenching of your eyes as you clamp down on his prick and cum, fingers of the hand not frantically rubbing at your clit digging into his skin while you shudder and shake in the embrace of his arms. 

He follows you moments later, the tension he had felt since meeting you outside the restaurant finally cresting and crashing, and he spends himself inside of the slick grip of your cunt, still riding him with the effort you can spare after the force of your orgasm before eventually slowing. You take your fingers from your clit, circle them around the base of his cock and collect some of your combined releases before bringing them up to his mouth, pushing inside and letting Vox’s tongue wrap around the length of them.

Fuck. You would be the death of him, he was sure.

“Not bad,” you mutter once you’ve collapsed bonelessly against him. “Might need a couple more rounds to really show you the ropes though- really get it through your screen here who is in charge.”

“That’s not you, doll.” Vox laughs, and you bring your wings up to surround the two of you like a fort, the glow of his screen illuminating your face and the teasing smile you wear.

“I guess I could be willing to share,” you agree, leaning forward far enough to press a teasing kiss to the plastic of his face. “We can talk about it tomorrow after you reassure your little assistant that you’re not going to murder him.”

“Still thinking about it,” he muses, “but we’ll see.” He runs his fingers again along the bottom of your wings, delights in your shiver, and wishes the rain would never stop.

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

not really a request, just a soft thought I had (sinner! Adam)

You and Adam are the only ones in the parlor and sitting next to each other on one of the couches. You’re reading on their phone and listening to Margaret by lana del rey, and it’s making your eyelids heavy. Adam pokes fun at your music taste but is also staring to doze off.

And then Charlie comes downstairs in a bit and finds you two sound asleep on one of the couches together, that song still playing on your phone.

thank you and good night

Okay, I love this idea. I do feel like I’ve been neglecting this fandom a lot, so let me see if I can write a little something.  

It is a rare sight to see the lobby of the new improved Hazbin Hotel completely empty. You’d think that from a glance but if you followed the soft sounds of music, you would spy hiding away on the fancy plush couches in the parlour were two sinners. 

“Remind me again why I let you control the tunes?” Adam huffed as he fiddled with one of the loose threads of the couch 

“Because I want you to experience other music genres, and I know that you like at least some of the songs I’ve played for you. You loved that song I played the 80s synthy one.” 

“Okay that was one song. The rest you’ve played has been . . . meh.” He pulled a bit too hard on a thread making it form a smallish hole. “Oh shit.” Adam turns to try and stuff the thread back into the couch in a vain attempt to fix the mess he made. Last thing he needs was another apology letter to write and knowing Charlie he’d be writing to the couch. 

You giggle behind your hand at his frantic movements to rectify the issue. 

“Hey, don’t laugh at me bitch this is your fault!” Adam snapped over his shoulder. Every attempt to fix the hole led to enlarging it. He still hadn’t gotten used to his new demonic form. His clawed fingers snagging on the fabric “Shit shit shit.” 

You tug on his arm to pull him back enough to see the dilemma. “It ain’t that bad. Just leave it be.” You rested you hand over his stilling him. “If you want I can take the blame for you.” 

Adam turns back to face you. He quirks a brow. “What’s in it for you?” 

“Ahhh, dear Adam. Just a simple request.” 

Adam leans back on the sofa. You had the look in your eyes when you think of something truly twisted. 

Producing your phone again you say, “Driver picks the music; shotgun shuts his cakehole.” 

“But tha- . .” 

“Ah ah ah.” you shush him with a finger to his lips. “My music. You no talky.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Fyne.” he murmurs against your finger. 

You pull away patting his left cheek. “Good boy.”  

Adam resisted the urge to snap back but just sank down more into the couch cushions. He watched you type the song you wanted and set it to play. Adam wanted to say something but watching you lay down resting your head on his lap. He froze a little. 

“Is this part of the deal? Me becoming your pillow?” 

“Yes, well it is now. Plus you are just the right kind of squish.” 

“Oh now you’re calling me fa- OW! Don’t pinch me.” 

You snigger and nip his leg again with your fingers. He starts nipping your sides in retaliation.  

‘Oh this was war now.’ you thought choosing the parts of Adam that you could reach in your position. The parlour fills with yelps and giggles as you two play fight for dominance. You both wrestle until you are straddling him nipping wildly at his sides and arms 

“Say it!” you nip him again a little harder this time. “Say I don’t have bad taste in music.” you nip again making him yelp. 

“Okay you- ow you win. Your music taste is not all ba- ow okay okay you have good music taste.” He pulls you in for a hug trapping your arms to your sides. 

“Muwahahaha! I knew it. I wiii-. .” You let out a massive yawn. “amm winner.” you yawn again choosing to rest your head on his shoulder. Your body slowly relaxes against him.  

The soft music that was playing the whole time finally reaches his ears. Adam listened to the words and the whole calm vibe that it brought.  

“You know what, this song ain’t that bad. I kinda like it.” Adam waited for a smug comment in reply but when he was met with a light snoring. He smiled softly as he gently arranged your limp body in a way that you wouldn’t wake up in pain later on. He didn’t have the heart to move you off of him. You’d been complaining about severe bouts of insomnia lately this was partially the reason he was with you in the first place. He also didn’t sleep that great either. This was probably another reason he snapped so much at other residents during the mandatory exercises done each day. 

Adam rested his head back on the couch, wondering what stupid thing was planned for today. His thoughts dipping in and out as the song drifts back into his ears.  

‘Maybe it won’t be that bad.’ He shut his eyes focusing on the song and the light snoring against his neck. ‘Just gonna rest my eyes’ he thought. 

----- 

When Charlie arrived in the parlour to set up her morning exercise for the residents, she stopped in her tracks clamping her hands over her mouth to suppress the squeal of joy.  

There on one of the couches sat Adam cradling you against his chest both of you fast asleep. She then hears soft music playing, carefully she picks up the phone to see the song has been playing on repeat for who knows how long. The battery on the phone was almost dead. Placing the device back, she slowly slinks backwards and sets about warding off other residents saying today's exercise has been cancelled and everyone gets the morning off. 

-------

I didn't mean to make it so long and i kinda did a little creative adjustments to your original thought. I hope that is okay??

[thinkingaboutfilm11]

Complaints about Senna Series

Maybe more than anyone else, I’ve been hyping the Senna series up on here these past few months, partly out of genuine excitement, partly because of my small (big) pre-existing crush on Gabriel Leone (if you’ve watched Dom you get it).

But the trailer has left me so disappointed in what is to come.

It seems that rather than build Ayrton as the fascinating, believable, mixed man that he was in real life, the show has chosen to portray him as a saint of a figure, who can do no wrong, and had the whole world turned against him. Likely this is due to Senna’s ongoing meddling and frankly, disgustingly controlling family, who even thirty years after Ayrton’s passing, still have a tight grip over his life and media presence, but by doing so with this show, I think they’ve let down not only Ayrton, but everyone else too.

Lets start with the obvious- Alain.

Already the show has been insinuating that Alain is the evil driver, the ‘baddie’ that Ayrton’s character must defeat to win the championships. While obviously, the Senna Prost rivalry is famed for its intensity and hatred, and it’d be impossible to show Ayrton’s life without it, I believe the show has gone about it the wrong way. Ayrton was by no means innocent in this rivalry as they are portraying- in fact, with his abusive driving style, and bad attitude towards Prost off track, it could be argued he was the main insinuator.

I think it’s disrespectful to Alain, who now, can only speak well of Ayrton and the relationship they had, to portray him as ‘evil’ as it seems this show is going to do. The fact is they were both as bad as each other, but they also needed each other in order to better themselves. It breaks my heart to think now, thirty years on, Alain may watch this show and once again be put down and hated on when he clearly has expressed nothing but love, admiration and grief towards Ayrton.

I also think this show will likely be disrespectful to the memories of drivers such as Elio. Elio who’s not even been cast in this show, when he was Ayrton’s team mate for a whole year! Just because he didn’t win three championships, does that mean his memory, his life have any less meaning than Ayrton’s? Of course not. It is wrong just to forget him, especially when Ayrton behaved in such a bratty way towards him.

Finally I think this show has most importantly let Ayrton down. The whole reason I relate to him, and respect him, was because he was a flawed man. He was a man driven half insane by his own talent, by his own intensity, and by his own need to win. Himself and his controlling family pushed him so hard, put so many pressures on him, he found it impossible to connect with the people he needed most (like Alain) in fear that it would make him less of a driver. He struggled with self happiness, said so multiple times, clearly had difficulties in many other areas of life, and yet despite all of this, not only turned out to be a brilliant driver, but also a good man as well, who raised hundreds of thousands of children in Brasil. Ayrton is a story of no matter what, never giving up, and battling your own demons to make it where you want to be. And I personally don’t see any way so far in which this show portrays this message.

It is my hope that I am wrong about all this. Maybe this show will turn out to be a good memorial of a good man. But likely it is the ‘Drive to Survive-ification’ of a beautiful story turned bad for a quick buck.

[siremasterlawrence]

Toxic Love: Based On A True Story

“Oh Master!” Colton walks in to frame of the camera in excitement he waved at me as he stands tall.

“Hi Master! My Love” he takes a deep varied breath as he blows it out.

“I wanted to record video for you.”

“I wanted you to know I love you “

“I am not letting you go

“My physique is at its peak”

“Nothing will change that “

“I mean you can bounce a quarter on this ass.”

“It’s tight”

“Mmmmm…fuck”

“Do you love me?”

“I am rambling “

“I mean I am tough”

“But!”

“I guess you are wondering why I am so nervous “

“I need you to like me”

“I would die if you hated me “

“It’s not a jest”

“Check out these pecs”

“My nipples are big”

“My body ripped”

“My head is spinning “

“My tongue is wagging “

“Oh my god”

“I can’t stop thinking “

“About you “

“I love you “

“Please call me”

“This body is flexible “

“Sharp and sexy”

Fuck! He spent so much time away from me the last year and a half he thinks he can just sped out time up to make up for everything by this display and I hate getting the useless dvd he sent. I place it in my PlayStation playing it as I am unnervingly pissing off as he comes on to the screen in the middle of some what I can only assume is a gym shower and posing for me like some gym rat. I roll my eyes, shaking my head as his lips begin to pour and his lips are pursing them before he kisses the camera and returns to a smile I get its all a set up really and I on some level am getting so hot. He smirks at me licking his lips with utter love in his eyes as he remembers me as his one true and only love to win me over once again as he lifts up the soap in hand as he suds up. He suds up soaping up his body in a fiery like state covering his body up in a sudsy power wiping up and flipping the switch on to the shower head and it reigns down on him.The soap suds washing off of his body as they flow with the current of water his eyes roll back, going to the upward back his head the eye sockets and he began to swoon his hands swing.

I hate to admit it but James is looking so fine that I can’t keep my faith in him years ago my dear because he knows I am own him for the longterm or not even though he is at my mercy I shake my head disgust of it all.I walk through the restaurant that he invites me to meet him at my side as I parked my car for the time being even if I am shook to my core and I know I will be I cannot give in to him because he will disappoint me like he always does.He looks good comb hair slick back as it should be none of those stupid hats he is always wearing like a idiot on a stupid all night bender, his breath the most amazing smelling thing I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy and I can no longer deny I still have feelings for him because I do on some fool hardy level I do bringing out my inner demon to serve me and I fall madly in love with my slave once again and I gave in of it snapping my finger.

“What will you do?”

“Whatever! You wish “

“Sleep”

“Deep deep deep”

“Deeper deeper deeper “

“Deepest deepest deepest “

“Sink sink “

“Sinker sinker “

“Sinking sinking”

“I am in at your center “

“The core”

“The sole control center “

“I am in the driver seat”

“Relinquish control “

“Give me the wheel”

“Spinning you away “

“Forgetting who you are “

“What you are”

The end

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Abu Dhabi 2016

-Brocedes divorce??

-Carlos is p21??

-aww this is Button and Massa’s last race

-“just follow his man home” they just want to create the allegations at this point

-14th front row lockout, 7 1-2s for Mercedes (interestinggg)

-longest season on record?

-oh shit Max spun

-oh wow the commentary for turn 1 is intense

-finallyyyy a proper leaderboard

-p19 Max 😢

-I miss Daniel having a good car

-the leaderboard is gone again

-I love that wheel to wheel action

-he’s p12 now

-poor Kevin

-Bottas retirement too?

-I like this circuit

-knew he’d make it to points

-it’s so weird seeing a good Mercedes pit stop strategy (like what happened to them now??)

-at least Ferrari has been consistently bad ig

-what would happen if Brocedes took themselves out here? Does Nico just win because he’s leading?

-the hell is “the lollipop man”

-haha Max is actually such a menace to Nico

-no wonder Red Bull took Checo, he actually defends really well

-oh no!! Jenson!! That would be such a bad ending to a retirement 😢😢

-what’s with these last two races having drivers retire with emotional endings

-are they not getting it back out??

-aww his mom

-poor Daniil

-ohh I just realized why Max is holding Nico off

-poor Nico really just got stuck between the fight between Red Bull and Ferrari

-oh come on Daniel

-that was a pretty cool Nico overtake

-Max playing the team game is not what I was expecting

-the pit crew fist bumping is adorable

-the way this was supposed to be a Brocedes war but somehow Nico is more worried about Max

-the fact that he somehow went from p19 to p2 to hold Nico off and now he’s in p8 like??

-yayy undercut

-he’s p5 now!

-“Red Bull have just outsmarted Ferrari” and not for the last time

-okay how does anyone understand radios without subtitles

-I’m so sorry Carlos, I forgot you were in this race

-oh wow I’m actually being impressed by Checo rn

-good one from Daniel tho

-Max is really just Nico’s personal demon isn’t he

-“box box box”

-“what a recovery that’s been” indeed

-props to Mercedes pit crew

-why is Paris Hilton hereee

-Aww that’s really sad about Jenson

“I’ll try my best to find that (joy) somewhere else”

I hope he has

-the way these people went from praising Verstappen to villainizing him needs to be studied

-“what position am I in?” Do the drivers just not know until someone tells them? Actually stupid question, them not knowing makes sense

-aww kinda wanted Vettel to go till the end

-does Lewis win this race and just not the championship?

Cause it’s kinda underwhelming not winning the race but winning a championship isn’t it

-manifesting Max podium ✨

-just hit me that I’m watching cars race, what has my life become

-yay Carlos is back!

-lapping cars must be so annoying

-oh no Carlos!! Whyyy!

-it would be a shame if he retired now

-aah bad day to be Toro Rosso

-“here comes the cavalry” that was cold

-I like when they call Daniel the “last of the late breakers”

-I spoke too soon, Ferrari made a comeback

-do I unmanifest the Max podium?

-once again wondering if Nico loses and still wins cause whaaat

-ALSO BRING IN RADIO SUBTITLES

-Sebastian podiummm???

-the way Max is somehow helping Nico rn by holding Seb back

-Sebastian Podium!!!!

-no way this becomes a Ferrari win right?

-I have no idea what’s happening with Lewis rn

-3 more lapsss

-ooh Nico’s wifeee

-this inter-team tension is crazy

-ohmygod I can’t believe Lewis is going to win this

-“I’m losing a world championship so I want to win this race” woah

-aaaah no way Nico wins a championship with a p3

-Brocedes divorce.

-this is so stressfullll

-let’s go Nico!!!!

-that was a great race!!

-aww all the drivers waiving is really cute

-awww his wifeee, that’s adorable

-Massa radio 😢

-donuts!!

-NR6!!!

-aww Sebastian hug

-still bizarre to me that he won from p2 (I really need to learn how the point system works)

-the podium has 9 wc combined (pretty cool)

-aaaaah Lewis and Seb just talking and him not making eye contact with Nico

-Seb just reveling in the tension

-Sebastian is so cute, bring him back

-I had way too much to say for this race

- (had to scream into my pillow) Brocedes are so messy

- aww he dedicated his win to his wife

- he’s cryingggg

- I wish I got to see Sebastian race in real time 😭

- they’re really asking for the drama

- “it was tough to beat you” 😭😭

- what is this tension ? I will die

- NR6!! Deserved!! 🎉🎉

[giggly-squiggily]

hellooo miss squiggles :D how have you been? i hope the universe treats you kindly ♡ (also i got your request and i'm so excites to write it thank you sm!!)

i'm here to bring you more modern demon slayer because i wanna get back into it and also my car has decided to be difficult these past few days so i thought about how the kny peeps would deal with that.

not affected by car troubles: gyomei (for obvious reasons), douma (failed his driver's license four times so there's that), rengoku (something tells me he doesn't drive)

that might as well happen: giyuu (long sigh, then he calls sabito to pick him up and lets the mechanic deal with it), obanai ("that's just another bad thing on the long list of bad things that life has thrown at me." - "dude shut up")

OMG WE'RE STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE: mitsuri (not cut out for this)

THERE'S LITERALLY A MCDONALDS DOWN THE ROAD CALM DOWN AND LET ME DO MY SHIT: sanemi (learned how to fix his motorcycle on his own after he saw what the mechanics charged)

gets so mad that they scare the car into working again: shinobu (she just taps the wheel twice and clears her throat and the car runs as smoothly as ever), akaza (the good old trick of kicking the car into submission never disappoints)

the best possible person to deal with car troubles: kanae (keep calm and call someone who can fix this), sabito (this man works with elementary school children, if his car broke down in the middle of the desert with no water on board that wouldn't even make his top 10 list of most stressful events of his life)

oh the car broke down? don't worry baby we'll buy a new one: tengen.

Rey! It's great to hear from you again! :D I've been well- some ups and downs IRL but generally speaking I feel great! I hope the same to you! The universe so far has been tame- let's hope it stays that way lols. (YESH! I'm so glad akrekjjrkaejj :D Congrats again on your milestone!)

(Ah crap! I'm sorry about your car- hopefully everything works out!)

KJERKJEKRJKEJR The fact they're all in the same car (sans Sabito I'd imagine cause someone's gotta come pick them up) reacting to this is hilarious akljeajkerjkaejr Road trip gone wrong?

Giyu and Obanai being the "Hello darkness my old friend" people of the group is so canon kjaraekrkejajkraejkrjkejr Obanai probably wouldn't be so bad if Mitsuri was there but when she does go off with Tengen and Rengoku to get her food he gets all blue and gloomy about everything akerjakrjearje (The "Dude, shut up" took me out! I can see Sanemi rolling his eyes behind the hood over it akerkjaerjkej)

NOT SHINOBU HELP KJEJREJRKJEJKRJK Like you said, a single throat clear- BOOM the car is back up and running. She probably scares the mechanics out of overcharging her too- a single one of her scary smiles and their offering discounts and additions for free (everyone brings her to the shop with them when they can- she's outwardly so over it but internally pleased with the chaos she creates). And Akaza kicking it into submission karjeajklrkjeawkjrjke I can see Douma lounging in the backseat slurping on a gas station slushie watching Akaza beat his car up. "Go between the headlights- it'll blind them Za!" "Give them that one move you showed me the other day!" "You're winning-" "DOUMA IF YOU DON'T-"

Kanae and Sabito being team "We've got this" is honestly such canon events! Kanae and Sanemi might have some mild tension ("Baby, it's not your bike, it's your car. It's too different." "Don't worry about it- I can fix it!" But after Sanemi stares at things long enough he just kinda peers around the hood all sheepish like: "So uh....you still got that mechanic on speed dial?" Sabito's so chill like: "A kid got 2 markers stuck up one nostril- this is EASY!" He has snacks when he gets there for Mitsuri, a car big enough for everyone if it's a road trip (might bring Makomo and her car in case they got EVERYONE), the tow truck on speed dial and several ideal spots to stop and get dinner if they're hungry akejajrekreakj

TENGEN!!! God, if only kjakakrjejkrejkjre He's got the money for it sure! Honestly he probably hates driving (Big guy + Tiny seats = Screw it I'm walking everywhere) but will gladly get any of his girlfriends/wives a new car if needed. Another one to bring to the mechanic to prevent being screwed over- he's got that unintentional intimidation factor (and the money to cover it lols) He's also such a troll: One time he told Obanai he'd get him so new wheels and pulled up with a toy barbie car. (They ended up regifting it to Mitsuri's younger sister as a christmas present)

For your consideration: Rengoku doesn't drive but he does bike! He's got two: one for personal use to go everywhere ("I'll catch up with you guys! *bike jingle noises*) and one with two seats for when he and Akaza go out (He was absolutely FLOORED when he discovered it and called up Akaza mid purchase like: "Guess what I'm bringing home??? :D") He probably got them matching helmets and protective padding so they'd be the talk of the town when they went out (Akaza doesn't have the heart to tell him they look like that one elderly couple without the years- though it was kinda funny the time said couple challenged them to a race.) He'd have a little basket too filled with snacks and other little things. :D

Thank you for sharing, these are GLORIOUS!

[bsigafoos2005]

The 2023 Season, and the unfortunate luck of the Hendrick Motorsports #48 Ally Racing Team.

(First rant on here so don’t expect much)

Alex Bowman, some call him a hack, some similarly, also call him unworthy of piloting one of the most famous numbers in NASCAR.

To be fair to y’all, he has had some MAJOR fuckups this year, most recently coming at the Darlington Raceway in Darlington, South Carolina this past Labor Day Weekend, when while battling TrackHouse Racing Driver Daniel Suarez, Alex blocked aggressively, twice, and wrecked him and Daniel both, costing them BOTH the race, after what looked up to that point to be a solid weekend for the 48 team after barely missing the playoffs the week before in Daytona. Now he did apologize afterward via social media, but fans continue to heckle him, week after week.

Let us not forget however, that this same Alex Bowman was docked 60 points earlier in the season for something entirely out of his control, which shoved him back around 30th in points, and most likely is the reason he didn’t make the playoffs when it came down to Daytona two weeks ago now. ALSO on that note, I can’t forget his back injury which sidelined him for 5 weeks in the midseason, where the 48 team (without him there mind y’all) was good enough to win on multiple occasions, I’ll list some now:

- Dover, Josh Berry, the fill-in for Bowman, raced the 48 to a top-10 finish. Could’ve very well been a win had Alex been there given he won there in 2021 (I know, different car, but same track)

- North Wilkesboro (All-Star Race), Berry rolled the 48 home to a top-15, again I feel like with Bowman, that would’ve been a lot better, given the unpredictability of the track since it hadn’t been raced on by cup cars in half a century up to that night.

After his return, Bowman put on some really good performances at races, I’ll highlight the HighPoint 400 @ Pocono Raceway, where up until he practically got dumped by Denny Hamlin at the end of the day, he was up front.

Alex, given everything he’s been through this year, doesn’t deserve the hate he’s getting. As a 48 fan I’ve watched that man come back from fighting the worst demons that he’s probably ever faced, only to watch him get shit-talked on socials for not being good after he got back for a while because he was out of the car for a month.

Alex has won before, MANY times, and does not, because of one or two errors this season, in my opinion, deserve the hate he’s getting for everything he’s had to put up with. The 48 team will be back with a vengeance in 2024, and then? That cup is theirs.

[storytimewithnova]

Shattered Promises: Love's Mosaic

Chapter 1: The Tragic Accident

Kuroo stood frozen on the side of the road, shock and disbelief coursing through his veins. His heart pounded against his chest, threatening to burst out from the intense pain it held. It felt as if the world had come crashing down around him, shattering into broken pieces.

The car that was supposed to carry his beloved Chibi-chan to the church was now a mangled mess. The blaring sirens of the emergency vehicles filled the air, drowning out Kuroo's anguished screams. The drunk driver who had carelessly smashed into their wedding day, taking away his happiness in an instant.

As the reality sank in, tears streamed down Kuroo's face, mixing with the rain that started pouring down from the heavens. The happiest day of his life had turned into a nightmare beyond his worst fears. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest, feeling as though his heart had shattered along with the car.

Chapter 2: The Healing Presence

Months passed, and Kuroo found himself drowning in a sea of grief and despair. It was during this dark time that Tooru, Shoyo's older brother, became an unexpected source of solace. Tooru spent his days at Kuroo's side, providing much-needed comfort and companionship.

Tooru would often come over to Kuroo and Shoyo's house, helping him sort through the memories that haunted every corner. He would listen patiently to Kuroo's stories about Shoyo, offering a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on. Through their shared pain, a bond began to form between them.

Together, they visited Shoyo's grave, finding solace in the peacefulness of the cemetery. Kuroo looked into Tooru's eyes and made a silent promise to his beloved Chibi-chan. He vowed to keep living, to find happiness again, and to honor Shoyo's memory.

Chapter 3: Unexpected Love

As time went on, Kuroo and Tooru's bond grew deeper. They found solace and understanding in each other's company, and a spark ignited within their hearts. Kuroo, who believed he would never love again, found himself torn between guilt and the possibility of happiness.

Tooru, too, was struggling with his own demons. He had been in an abusive and toxic relationship with Iwaizumi for far too long. He made the courageous decision to break free from that toxic cycle, realizing that he deserved to find true happiness.

One fateful evening, Tooru confessed his feelings to Kuroo, his voice filled with vulnerability. He told him that he wanted to honor the promise he made to his baby brother and be there for him, even if it meant breaking his heart again.

Chapter 4: A Promise of Love

Kuroo hesitated, his heart torn between loyalty to Shoyo and the growing affection he felt for Tooru. But in Tooru's eyes, he saw a flicker of warmth and something he thought he had lost forever – love.

He took Tooru's hand in his, letting go of the guilt and pain that had consumed him for so long. Together, they made a silent vow to cherish each other and create a new path, one that would intertwine their broken pieces and heal their wounded souls.

Kuroo stood before Shoyo's grave once again, this time with a renewed sense of hope. He whispered under his breath, "In another life, my Chibi-chan, we will find each other again and make it down that aisle. Even if I have to break all tradition and drive you there myself."

As the wind gently brushed against Kuroo's face, carrying the echo of Shoyo's laughter, he felt a sense of peace. The broken pieces of his heart were slowly starting to mend, and he knew that with Tooru by his side, they would find happiness once again.

Chapter 5: Love's Resilience

Kuroo and Tooru's love story unfolded with both tenderness and resilience. They faced their fair share of challenges and obstacles, but their unwavering commitment to each other pushed them forward.

Tooru's decision to leave Iwaizumi was not without consequences. The toxic ex-boyfriend relentlessly tried to win him back, unleashing a wave of harassment and threats. However, Tooru stood firm, determined to protect himself and to build a future with Kuroo that he never had the chance to realize with Shoyo.

Kuroo, on the other hand, struggled with guilt. He often found himself questioning whether he was betraying Shoyo's memory by falling in love with his brother. Yet, with every passing day, Tooru's love and support comforted him, reaffirming that their bond was something separate, something new.

Chapter 6: A New Beginning

As their love deepened, Kuroo and Tooru decided it was time to start anew. They left behind the memories and the pain that haunted their old home and moved into a place they could call their own. It was a symbolic step towards healing and building a future together.

In their new home, Kuroo and Tooru created a sanctuary where love and joy thrived. They decorated the walls with pictures of Shoyo, honoring his memory and keeping him forever close to their hearts. Every now and then, they would share stories about him, keeping his spirit alive in their lives.

They also pursued their individual dreams and passions. Kuroo continued his studies in architecture, pouring his heart into creating beautiful structures that would stand the test of time. Tooru, on the other hand, found solace in art, pouring his emotions onto the canvas, creating masterpieces that reflected his journey of healing and love.

Chapter 7: Love's Legacy

Kuroo and Tooru's love not only became a source of strength for themselves but also inspired those around them. They became advocates for healthy relationships, raising awareness about domestic abuse and the importance of self-love.

Tooru shared his story of leaving an abusive relationship, empowering others to break free from toxic cycles. Kuroo, with his gentle presence and unwavering support, became a symbol of resilience and the healing power of love.

Their love story touched hearts and gave hope to those who felt broken and lost. Kuroo and Tooru became beacons of love, reminding everyone that even in the face of tragedy, it was possible to find happiness again.

Chapter 8: A Promise Fulfilled

Years passed, and Kuroo and Tooru found themselves celebrating their love once more. This time, they stood together at the altar, surrounded by friends and family who had witnessed their journey and supported them every step of the way.

As they exchanged their vows, Kuroo's voice trembled with emotions, "My beloved Chibi-chan, even though you are not physically here with us, your spirit continues to guide us. And today, as I marry your brother, I know you are smiling down on us, knowing that your promise has been fulfilled."

The room filled with tears of joy, as everyone present felt the weight of their love and the unbreakable bond that had formed among them. Kuroo and Tooru kissed, sealing their love with a promise to honor Shoyo's memory and live a life filled with happiness.

And as they danced their first dance together as husbands, the broken pieces of their past had transformed into a mosaic of love, resilience, and a future as bright as the sunrise.

Chapter 9: Embracing Life, Together

The years rolled by like a gentle breeze, carrying with them moments of joy, laughter, and love. Kuroo and Tooru navigated the twists and turns of life side by side, their love growing stronger with each passing day. They faced triumphs and tribulations as a team, never wavering in their commitment to one another.

Their love story became an inspiration, as they began counseling sessions for individuals who had experienced loss or abusive relationships. They poured their hearts into helping others rebuild their lives, offering guidance, support, and a glimmer of hope.

Amidst their advocacy work, Kuroo and Tooru found solace in their shared hobbies. They traveled the world, exploring breathtaking landscapes, immersing themselves in different cultures, and creating memories that surpassed their wildest dreams. Each trip, they left a piece of Shoyo's spirit in the places they visited, ensuring he would forever be a part of their adventures.

Chapter 10: A Legacy of Love

As they approached their twilight years, Kuroo and Tooru's love remained as resilient as ever. They had managed to heal the broken pieces of their hearts, building a life founded on love, compassion, and acceptance. Their relationship became a testament to the power of love's ability to mend the deepest wounds.

Surrounded by their loved ones, Kuroo and Tooru sat by a crackling fireplace, the warmth mirroring the love that filled the room. Their eyes twinkled with shared memories and a quiet contentment that comes from a life well-lived.

In that moment, Kuroo turned to his beloved husband, placing a weathered hand on his cheek. "Tooru, my love," he spoke softly, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime together, "thank you for teaching me that love can mend even the most broken of hearts. Our journey has been filled with joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Now, as we embrace the golden years, I want you to know that I am eternally grateful for the love we have shared."

Tooru's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he engulfed Kuroo's hand in his own. "Kuroo, my everything," he whispered, his voice filled with a lifetime's worth of love, "I am thankful every day for the incredible love we have forged. Together, we have overcome the darkest of nights and celebrated the brightest of days. Our love has become a beacon of hope for those who have lost their way. I am forever grateful for you, my love."

And as they shared a tender kiss, a sense of completeness washed over them. Their love had transcended time, proving that healing was possible, even amid shattered dreams and broken pieces. In that moment, they realized that their story was not just about their love for each other but also about the transformative power of love itself.

Epilogue: Love's Mosaic

The story of Kuroo and Tooru, titled "Love's Mosaic," became an enduring legend whispered in the hearts of many. Their journey reminded people that love could triumph over any tragedy, and that even in the face of shattered hopes, new beginnings were possible.

Their legacy lived on, not only through the memories shared by those whose lives they touched but in the countless lives that were mended as a result of their love and advocacy. The broken pieces that had once defined their lives had been transformed into a mosaic of love, resilience, and the unwavering commitment to never give up on happiness, no matter the obstacles.

And as the sun set on their lives, Kuroo and Tooru held hands, finding solace in knowing that their love story would continue to inspire future generations, reminding them that hope was always within reach, waiting to heal the broken pieces and create something beautiful.

[writingpaperghost]

From the Future With a Miracle (Chapter 5)

Chapter 5: My Heart Is Screaming So Much

Koushiro and Makoto have a conversation and then with a little help, Koushiro comes to a realization.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45877396/chapters/119383219

“This Diablo,” Hana began, unable to hide the worry in her voice, “he’s… a really powerful demon, isn’t he?”

Sakura faltered, ever so slightly, as she entered the lounge of the Deadmans’ base. Hana had already returned from aiding Makoto and that other Rider, as Sakura had heard from Tamaki. She’d fought Diablo, at least for a moment. Still, Sakura put on a reassuring smile, even if Hana didn’t believe it. “He’s unlike any other demon that you or Fenix have seen.”

Holding her Driver and the Bee Vistamp in her hand, Hana stared at them. “He shrugged off my attack, and he was shrugging off Makoto’s and that other Rider’s too.”

“It’s nothing that we can’t handle,” Sakura assured, “And for you, my queen, I’ve gotten a gift.” Reaching into her pocket, she produced the Vistamp she swiped from Karizaki’s lab. Holding it out, she smiles as Hana takes it.

Hana tilted her head, “A turtle?” she asked, turning the Vistamp around in her hand. “Is it like Makoto’s Marlin Vistamp?”

“I believe so, it should provide you with some extra power during the upcoming fight. Although, we should probably return it to Fenix after.”

“Return it,” Hana frowned again, “Why? It’s not like they’re going to like you any less if you don’t.”

Laughing a little, Sakura sat beside her, “I feel like playing nice with them.”

Though Hana pouted, she relented, “Fine.”

She’s pulled closer to Sakura, and Sakura gives her a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you, my bee. It’s all a part of our plan.”

“Well, I’m not so sure about that,” Hana admitted, “but I trust you.”

---

When Koushiro awoke, he figured out pretty quickly that he was in Happy Spa again. The last thing he remembered was fighting Diablo, definitely losing the fight, and now he was here. One of the Igarashis must have found him. Probably had to fight Diablo off, too.

He sits up, wincing, and sighs, “Goddamn,”

“Koushiro?” His demon hovered, worry evident in his voice.

“I’m fine,” Koushiro brushes it off and stands. Easily he finds his Driver and the Dragonfly Vistamp, again. “Now there isn’t time to waste-“

“Mr. Koushiro,” Makoto greets him with a smile. The smile hurts.

“…Makoto,” Koushiro takes a careful breath. “I take it you found me and brought me back here.”

Makoto nodded, leading Koushiro to the table he’d given Koushiro breakfast at earlier. “Sit down, Mr. Koushiro, I’ll get you some food.”

Koushiro’s quick to protest, “You don’t have to,”

“Well you could probably use it. Mama taught me to be kind, after all.” Koushiro could only watch Makoto, knowing this wasn’t a fight he could win.

“It’s nice of him,” His demon noted, “but I know what you’re thinking.”

“Why are you being so kind to me?” Koushiro called, even if Makoto was in the kitchen. He thinks Makoto can hear. “Why do you believe that I’m from the future, when no one else does?”

He thinks he hears Makoto hum, and then Makoto reappears with what appeared to be leftovers again. “I just don’t think you’re lying.”

“You don’t?”

“No, I don’t. In some ways, I think it may be because you remind me a lot of Tamaki and Hana, but it’s not just that, either.” He sets the plate down, and Koushiro can’t deny that food sounds good right now. “And, I think… well, I can’t relate, but as Mr. Kamiyama put it, it’s terrible when no one believes you.”

Pulling a face at the unfamiliar name, Koushiro questioned, “Kamiyama?”

Again, Makoto smiled at him, “He’s another Rider, he was fighting Diablo when we found you.”

Something in Koushiro’s chest flutters at that, “Another Rider?” had he, in a way, found another Rider, just like he’d been trying to? “And… and he’s willing to help fight Diablo?”

“He and his friends, yes.” There’s something almost comforting about the smile Makoto wore, and Koushiro lets it lull him into something close to relaxation. “Which really just leaves you, Mr. Koushiro.”

“…Me.” Koushiro echoed.

Makoto nodded, “Will you help us, even though no one else believes you?”

“Of course, that’s what a Kamen Rider would do,” Koushiro assured, recalling everything his Kari-papa had ever said about Kamen Riders, every story he ever told. The heroes in those stories, they wouldn’t let something as trivial as people not believing where they came from stop them.

In response, Makoto tilted his head, and this curious expression crossed his face, “And you are a Kamen Rider,” it’s half a question, half a statement. “at least, I take it that’s what you feel you are.”

Why would Makoto question that? Wasn’t it obvious? “I have a Driver, I have a Vistamp, why wouldn’t I be a Rider?” He can’t help the irritation in his voice.

Yet Makoto only leaned against the wall – why hadn’t he sat down, anyway? “While I am no expert, I think there’s a difference between being a Kamen Rider, and being a Kamen Rider.” He watched Koushiro eat, and suddenly Koushiro didn’t feel quite so comfortable. “And I hate to say it, but I don’t think you’re quite there yet.”

“Oh,” The demon settled down beside Koushiro, though the action was no comfort.

“What?”

“To be fair,” Makoto continued, “I don’t think I am yet, either. But I’d say it’s an important distinction. Something’s holding you back, Mr. Koushiro.”

Annoyance spiking, Koushiro stands, “Nothing’s holding me back,”

Seeming unbothered by Koushiro’s actions, Makoto simply said, “If you can’t see it, that might honestly be worse.”

“Bullshit! Nothing’s holding me back!” There’s a horrible feeling boiling in his chest and Koushiro just knows Makoto purposefully lulled him into relaxing just to do this.

“Koushiro,” his demon pleaded, “Calm down.”

But Koushiro ignores him, “I have to be a Rider, if I’m not then- then what’s the point? The heroes in all of Kari-papa’s stories… they’re the ones who can stop monsters like Diablo.”

“And you,” Makoto’s voice was harsh in some ways, yet also laced with this… smugness. “can’t stop Diablo. Every fight he could very well have killed you if he hadn’t lost interest, or Mr. Kamiyama, Aguilera, and I hadn’t gotten in the way.”

“What would you know?” Koushiro snapped, “You said it yourself, you don’t think you’re- you’re a real Rider, so what would you know?”

Then Makoto smiled again, “That’s the thing, I really don’t. But if my words are riling you up this much… Well…” his smile only turns sharper. If Koushiro didn’t know any better, he’d think Makoto the wolf, rather than Tamaki. He crossed his arms, and somehow he seems almost like an entirely different person. One who was far less kind than the Makoto he’d seen previously. “I think I should be going, now, but you’re welcome to stay. Mama and Papa are here, they know you’re here.”

Suddenly uncertain, Koushiro asked, “Where… where are you going?”

“To Fenix, we’ve got Diablo to deal with, after all.”

“I’m coming with you,” Koushiro reached for his Vistamp.

“No, you’re staying here,” Makoto responded, “until you can figure out whatever’s holding you back.”

He curled his hands into fists, “You can’t stop me.”

Makoto reached out, placed a hand on Koushiro’s shoulder, then pushed him back down. “I can, Mr. Koushiro, because I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“What’s different between you and me?” He can’t help the desperation in his voice.

There’s a bitter tone to Makoto’s voice when he answered, “The things that hurt me don’t hold me back when I fight.”

The things that hurt Koushiro… there was no way they were holding him back. He’d been careful not to let them. Just like the heroes in Kari-papa’s stories. The things that hurt him didn’t matter. Even as there’s some part of him that wonders just what it was that hurt Makoto.

“And if you can’t stop Diablo?”

“That’s our problem,” Makoto assured, “But right now, I think your efforts are better spent on yourself.”

Koushiro doesn’t argue, despite the horrible feeling swirling in his chest. And Makoto leaves, leaving Koushiro to sit at the table, confused and teetering on overwhelmed. Everything Makoto said echoing in his ears, bouncing and growing louder instead of fading.

“Koushiro?” His demon calls with concern.

Nothing was hurting him.

“Koushiro, what’s wrong?” He tried again, falling on deaf ears.

Nothing was hurting him.

---

Touma Kamiyama has a strange presence, Daiji thinks. He was on the tall side, and that was certainly a part of it. Perhaps it was the way he dressed, something not entirely unordinary but certainly not common. Or maybe it was the friends he brought with him – they were dressed far more oddly. There was certainly something particularly strange about one of them – a man named Yuri, Kagerou declared him Not Quite Human, though Daiji knew instinctively that he wasn’t like them, either.

Of course, most of this is overwhelmed by Karizaki being embarrassing. Despite the fact that there was an eminent threat, Karizaki was instead fanboying and asking for autographs. Rather quickly, Daiji decides he should stop Karizaki before he gives anyone the wrong idea of Fenix.

So he walks up and grabs Karizaki by the back of his dumb coat, “Karizaki, now is not the time for this.”

It’s little surprise when Karizaki pouts, “It isn’t as though Diablo’s attacking right now.”

“This dumbass,” Kagerou groaned.

Thankfully, Daiji doesn’t have to argue with Karizaki, at least not alone, as Hiromi comes up to them. “Daiji is right, we have to prepare to stop Diablo – if what these other Riders say is right, he’s likely planning something. We likely don’t have much time to waste.”

“Too bad Makoto isn’t back yet,” Karizaki said, more than a hint of annoyance in his voice. “What’s he doing, anyway?” He looked past Daiji, over to where Tamaki stood and was awkwardly conversing with two of Kamiyama’s friends – the man in a blue coat and the woman who always stuck close to him.

Tamaki, seeming to somehow know that Karizaki was looking for a response from him, looks over, ears perked up. He must have heard Karizaki. “He said he was going to take care of Mr. Koushiro’s injuries… Mr. Kamiyama?”

Kamiyama supplies, “He said something about wanting to wait until Mr. Koushiro woke up…”

Karizaki scowled, “Your brother is too soft, Igarashi.”

Tamaki scoffed, “Makoto isn’t soft, Karizaki,” a frown tugged at his lips, “He’s just… paying it forward.”

“Makoto told me that none of you believe that Mr. Koushiro is from the future,” Kamiyama said, curious.

“It’s very unbelievable,” Daiji responded, “demons are one thing, and clearly he’s no ordinary human, but being from the future…”

“Well I believe him,” There isn’t a hint of doubt or uncertainty in Kamiyama’s voice.

It sounded like a fools’ choice, but it was Kamiyama’s choice regardless.

And then Makoto runs up, “Sorry it took me so long!”

Crossing his arms, Tamaki asked, “Where’s Mr. Koushiro?”

Makoto cringed, “That’s… he’s… still at Happy Spa. I don’t think he’ll be much help, as is.”

That information seemed to surprise Kamiyama, “His injuries didn’t seem quite so bad.”

“It’s something else,” Makoto answered, “and it’s something he’ll need to figure out, I think.”

Tamaki groaned, “Makoto… come on. What the hell does that mean?”

“He’s got something to work out, something that’s hurting him and holding him back. We’ve got the help of Mr. Kamiyama and his friends,” It was clear that Makoto wasn’t entirely confident in his own words, “So I think we’ll be okay.”

“Well, it wasn’t like he was really helping much,” Tamaki groused, “But still. You left him with Mama and Papa?”

Giving Tamaki a smile, Makoto assured, “It’ll be fine.”

Daiji could see an older brother’s lies of reassurance. It’d be a lie to say he hadn’t told the same sort of things to Sakura, once upon a time. Ikki was even more guilty of it.

“Now,” Makoto began, “I think we have some preparing to do, to stop Diablo, right?”

---

At some point, Koushiro had stood up again, began to wander the house, staring at all the pictures. Plenty of who Koushiro is pretty sure is the Igarashi parents, and even more of the rest of the family. All five, in some, featuring a girl who must be Hana. And then there was… he thinks it might be some kind of shrine – for a while Kari-papa had something vaguely similar set up. There were baby pictures, even in some the children seemed a couple years older, but never all that old. Never really more than young children. A soccer ball sat in the corner, and there was a little blue snake plush in another.

These children… it takes Koushiro a moment to realize who they were. And his chest only hurts more when he does. A shrine to three missing children, three children who were probably dead now, certainly were in his own time. A shrine to lost hopes and missing dreams.

“They would have loved you, I think.” His demon says, tone gentle. “It’s a shame what happened to them.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Koushiro whispered.

He stares at one picture in particular, of the three children together. The youngest must have just been born, recently, all swaddled. The middle boy held her, aided by the eldest. They looked… cute, he thinks. It was a pity that it likely hadn’t lasted all that long.

Tentatively, his demon asked, “If you could, would you want to meet them?”

Koushiro’s answer was slow, his throat tightening a little, “You… you know the answer to that.”

“Well, maybe I want to hear it from you myself.”

Hesitantly, Koushiro answered in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And your parents?” His demon inquired further, “Don’t you want to meet them? To get to know them?”

The words that tumble out of Koushiro’s mouth are automatic, absentminded, “There isn’t time-“

“Would you shut up about that!?” Snapped his demon.

Koushiro winced, but didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he pulled the Dragonfly Vistamp out and stared at it. Whatever answers he may have hoped to find, they weren’t there. The Vistamp couldn’t give him that.

And then he’s taken out of his thoughts by a kind voice, “You must be Koushiro.”

He turned to look, faced to face with the one he knew as Yukimi Igarashi, Makoto and Tamaki’s mother. He’d seen her in the pictures at this shrine, and in Kari-papa’s picture, for as long as he can remember. He knew little about her, just that she was kind and loving.

Still, he’s surprised to see her. “Ah, y-yeah.”

“Oh, did Makoto not give you that shirt?” She looked him over curiously, with a hint of concern.

Unsure of what she was talking about, Koushiro tilted his head in confusion, “…shirt?”

“Yes, Makoto made a shirt for you and your wings… hold on, I’ll get it for you.” She hurried off, leaving Koushiro standing there in confusion. He really had no clue what she was talking about.

So he just stands there and waits, and soon enough Yukimi returned with a folded shirt in her arms. He recognized it as a Happy Spa shirt that, as he found when she handed it to him, had been cut to allow his wings through. Unlike the shirt he wears now, it was sewn so that the edges where it was cut wouldn’t fray.

Makoto had made this for him, but why?

“He has been kind to you,”

Looking up at Yukimi again, he can see that Yukimi is smiling at him. “…Why did Makoto…?”

“He wanted to do something nice for you.” She answered, “he’s learned to be kind, and he could see that you’ve been through a lot.” She ushers Koushiro off to change, and he doesn’t get the chance to try to argue. There was no point in protesting, he could tell she wouldn’t give him much room to, and he didn’t particularly have the energy to, either.

He can’t deny that the shirt was a bit of a better solution than what he and his Kari-papa had figured out. There was also something just very… nice, about the shirt itself. Maybe it was the kindness shown in its very existence. In his future, there was never really anyone around to be kind to him, save for Kari-papa. But Kari-papa was different than people who really didn’t know him.

There’s a horrible ache in Koushiro’s chest. It’s been there since he came to the past, since Kari-papa died. He’s pushed it aside, because it doesn’t have a place here, but somehow, it’s only grown. What had been something he could ignore had grown and grown until now, where he struggled ignore it. The more it grew, the less space it felt like there was for it, his chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Short of breath and face beginning to feel too warm, Koushiro returns out, and Yukimi was right where she was before. Waiting for him. “It fits you,” She noted, giving him a once over, “that’s good.”

“It… does,” He said, hoping his voice didn’t betray the tightness of his throat or his lack of breath.

Despite his best efforts, she seems to see the growing pain in him, “Is everything alright?”

He wants to say what he always does. That he’s fine enough and that there isn’t time for dealing with it. But the words don’t come out, “It’s… I��m…” he’s shaking a little, he notes, maybe not enough for her to notice, but enough that he can. Regardless, it was obvious that she could see just how badly he was doing in that moment.

“Koushiro, I think you need to finally take a moment for yourself,” his demons words are filled with concern. His demon always seemed so concerned about him. “take a moment to grieve.”

Normally Koushiro would have protested, but somehow, he couldn’t find it in him. Instead, he only whispered, “I miss my papa.”

A sympathetic look crossed Yukimi’s face, “If what Makoto has said is true, you are very far from home.”

“Not just that… he’s… he’s dead.” He was crying, now. Vision blurry, but he couldn’t help but keep looking towards Yukimi.

She reached out, and pulled him into a hug, to his surprise. “Oh Koushiro… you really have been pushing yourself too hard.” Koushiro returned the hug, barely holding in a sob. It was warm, like his Kari-papa’s hugs.

He hurt.

“I… I have to… make him proud,” He choked out, closing his eyes.

“That doesn’t mean you have to take the weight of the world on your shoulders,” She assured, “besides, I’m certain he’s already proud of you.”

Maybe she was right. Kari-papa had always loved him so much, Koushiro had never doubted that. Kari-papa did all he could to raise Koushiro the best he could, like he was his own son, and not just one that he’d been entrusted with the safety of. All of Koushiro’s best memories were of Kari-papa, of all the things they did to pass the time in the forty something long years of Koushiro’s life.

And yet, even if Kari-papa was proud of him, even if it was just making it this far… that wasn’t all that hurt in Koushiro’s chest. But did he dare to voice the other thing? The family he never knew? The family he now wasn’t letting himself know, because he didn’t feel there was time.

Taking a deep breath, his words were still shaky, “I… I also… I want to make my… my family proud, even if they never know who I am.”

“You’re trying to help people, Koushiro,” Yukimi said, kind and reassuring. “I’m sure, even without knowing you’re apart of their family, they’d be proud. I can tell these things.”

He can’t help his laugh, “You think so? I… I think you’re right.” He was hesitant to let go of her, now. He felt safe – was this what he would have felt if he’d known his mother growing up? “Makoto, Tamaki, and Hana are lucky to have you as their mother.”

She let go of him, and he reluctantly pulled away. But he could see her smile, something wonderful and warm. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

“No, no,” Koushiro shook his head, “I wish I could have had you around growing up. Really, I wish I could have had all of you as my family. I think it would have made everything a little… better.”

“Well, you seem to have turned out perfectly well. Here you are, after all, doing all you can to save the world.” She believed in him, he could tell just by how she spoke. It drove the remnants of that terrible feeling out of his chest, filling it with something warm and wonderful.

He smiled, and he let that warmth grow and grow, “I’m going to make sure Diablo is defeated,” he said, “and I know I can’t do that alone and I know I’m not really all that special, but… it’s all I can do.”

Still holding the Dragonfly Vistamp in his hand, Koushiro felt more confident than he ever had before. After all, as long as Diablo was defeated, the rest didn’t matter. If he died, it would be much different from if he lived. That was something he’d accepted a long time ago, and nothing would change it.

And then the Vistamp glowed, and it changed in his hand. He didn’t know they could do that. Wide eyed, he raised it up to get a better look at it, and Yukimi seemed just as surprised by the sudden glowing.

“What…?” He muttered, uncertain of what was occurring.

His demon looks over his shoulder, and though he has no mouth he seems to smile, “We’ve become stronger.”

His Vistamp had changed, even if he didn’t know why or how. His Vistamp had changed and, according to his demon, they would be stronger. Maybe… maybe they could finally stop Diablo?

“Not on our own,” His demon said, hand placed over Koushiro’s own that held the Vistamp, “but with the Emperor Dragonfly Vistamp, we’ll be strong enough to make the difference we need to.”

Koushiro nodded, understanding, “Then we need to catch up with the others. Hopefully they haven’t already started their fight against Diablo.” Even if they had, Koushiro thinks it might be okay if they get there quick enough.

“I take it you’ll be leaving, now?”

“Yeah,” Koushiro answered, “we are.”

“To Fenix!” his demon declared.

With a barely contained smile and a nod, Koushiro agreed, “To Fenix,”

[mythos-writes]

Spitfire

Alfie Solomons x Shelby! Reader

Plot: (Y/N) Shelby, a force to be reckoned with in the Peaky Blinders. When the boys decided to go to London to meet a new business partner, she catches the attention of a certain gang leader

Word Count: 2262

Warning: Swearing, smoking, Peaky Blinders level of violence

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform.

(Y/N) Shelby. Younger sister to Arthur, twin sister to Tommy, and older sister to John, Ada and Finn. With Tommy being 7 minutes older, he always holds it over her. Sometimes with twins, they can be either complete opposites or the same person. She was very similar to her twin, but, had Arthur’s anger. When the Peaky Blinders were becoming well known, (Y/N) was viewed as an angel among demons. But, when anyone had pushed her over her boundaries, she made her brothers look like angels. But she is very useful when it comes to negotiations with new business partners. 

“So why are we going to London again?” she questions while walking out to the car. 

“We are meeting up with Alfie,” Tommy says, getting into the driver's seat. 

“Alfie?” she questions. 

“Right, you skipped out on the first meeting, Alfie Solomons, he runs the gang that's out of Camden,” Tommy states. 

“I didn’t skip, I wasn’t feeling well that morning,” she states. 

“Yeah and it had nothing to do with you and Arthur having a drinking contest at all,” Tommy looks at her, knowing the truth. (Y/N) just crosses her arms over her chest, letting Tommy win this bout. 

Once they get on the road, she lights a cigarette and looks over at her twin.  

“I know that look, what are you thinking,” Tommy asks, his eyes not leaving the road. 

“Why do I have to come with you this time? Is there something up with this Solomons guy?” she questions, taking another drag of the tobacco stick. 

“I just want you to do a double-check on him. I know that you can be very persuasive and thorough look into his books,” he says, looking over to her quickly. She nods before finishing her smoke, flicking the bud out the window. She leans back into the seat and pulls her cap over her eyes. 

“Wake me when we get there,” she says, smiling a little when she hears a small chuckle leave Tommy’s lips. 

(Y/N) was dead asleep when all of a sudden the passenger side door flew open, causing her to fall out of the car. She groaned out in pain, giving Tommy a deadly look. 

“You told me to wake you when we arrived. We've arrived,” he says. She sighs while getting up, fixing herself before placing her hat back on her head and grabbing her coat. 

“You are lucky we are doing business right now cause you would have a black eye right about now,” she says while they walk towards the bakery. 

“I don’t doubt that one bit,” he says before entering the building. They walk in and see a few people working. 

“Hello, what can I do for you?” one worker asks. 

“We are here to see Mr. Solomons,” (Y/N) states, making sure they got every syllable. Before the worker could get a word in, Alfie walks through the backdoor of the bakery. 

“Ahhh, Thomas, shalom. And who is this?” he asks, looking (Y/N) up and down. 

“Hello Alfie, this would be my sister, (Y/N). (Y/N), this Mr. Alfie Solomons,” Tommy introduces. (Y/N) stepped closer, sticking her hand out. 

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Solomons,” she says, a smile crossing her face. Tommy knew what she was doing, she was giving him the sweet side of her, to see if he will get burned. 

“The pleasure is all mine, love,” he says, flirting a little. 

“She is here to double-check your books, knowing that Arthur and John aren’t the strongest with them,” Tommy states, not liking the flirty responce he gave.  

“Right this way then,” Alfie says, showing him to his office. As they walked by the brew tanks, she was impressed with his operations. They walk into his office, getting to books. 

“We will leave you to this, I have some other business to talk to Mr. Solomons about,” Tommy says, looking at Alfie. She nods before checking over his work, making sure it was up to par. 

A little while later, she emerges from the office, very pleased with the way the books were balanced. 

“So how do they look?” Tommy asks, seeing his sister walking towards them. 

"Everything looks good, our meatheads of brothers did well,” she says, making jabs at her brothers who were back in Birmingham. 

“See, nothing to worry about,” Alfie says, sending a wink toward her. She smiles back, feeling her cheeks heat up. No one normally gave her this type of attention, let alone looks at her back home, so the attention from Alfie was nice. 

Tommy started to talk to Alfie again, trying to include her in their previous conversation about some plans. But she became distracted when she heard some words that she didn’t like at all. (Y/N) tuned out of Alfie’s and Tommy’s words and focused on the two workers behind them, talking about herself and her family. She turned at the words of the workers.

“Do you want to say that again?” she yells out, not only getting the worker's attention, but also the two gangsters' attention as well. The two workers don’t respond, so she moves closer. 

  “I’m talking to you two gits, and when I ask a question I expect an fucking answer. So I am going to ask again, do you want to repeat yourselves,” she spits, venom slowly forming in her words. The two shake their heads, not wanting to anger her more. She went to go back towards her brother, but more words were spilled.

“A real basket case this one,” one says. She quickly turned around and landed a clean punch on the man. He holds his face and falls to the ground. The other one went to attack but she pulled out her gun, aiming at his head. 

“Do you want to be worse off than your friend?” he quickly shakes his head. “That’s what I thought,” she spits.  

“That’s enough (Y/N),” Tommy yells, not fazed at all at her reaction. She puts her gun away, then quickly punches the other one in the face, before walking out of the building. 

“Bloody hell, a spitfire that one is,” Alfie says, his gaze not moving. 

“Trust me mate, she makes us look like angels,” Tommy says while the two watch (Y/N) walking out.

A couple of weeks later, Tommy sent (Y/N) back to London to check in on Alfie. His thinking is that Alfie would probably like having her around the bakery rather than himself.

“Hello Alfie,” she says, seeing the gangster walking towards her. 

“Hello my dear,” he says, bringing her into a hug. “I am assuming you are here for business," he asks.

“By orders of Mr. Thomas Shelby himself,” she jokes. A smile makes its way across his face before moving them towards his office. 

“So what does your brother want?” he asks, sitting behind his desk, taking in the older Shelby sister. She was dressed very similarly to their first meeting, her hair braided back, dark grey suit jacket and slacks, a white dress shirt, her flat cap, and some dress shoes. 

“Wanted to make sure the whiskey order will be shipping out on time,” she says, sitting down in one of the chairs placed across from him. 

“Does he not trust me with my time management skills,” he says, putting on a sad face. She laughs and shakes her head. 

“No, he just wants to be safe than sorry,” she says, leaning forward a little.

“Tommy should stop worrying, but, if he sends you every time he gets worried, then I wouldn’t mind it,” Alfie flirts. 

“Oh please,” she deflects, trying to hide her blushed face from view.

“How bout this, you make sure that everything is moving smoothly, and then I get to take you out,” he says, leaning his arms against the desk. 

“Are you asking me on a date Mr. Solomons?” she asks, raising a brow at his offer. 

“It can be anything that you want Ms. Shelby,” he replies with a smile. 

“Let's get this look over started so we can get that date started,” she says with a smile. Alfie returns it before making his way towards the door.

"After you," he says holding the door open.

"Oh, what a gentleman," she says, flirting back.  

Alfie and (Y/N) relationship has grown quickly and secretly. None of the other Shelby siblings knew, even Polly. She knew Polly would tell them and blow her chance at this. She would go to London almost every weekend, even if there was no business needed in London. Of course, her brothers were a little suspicious of her intentions with all the trips, but none ever questioned her. Polly tried but was quickly shut down. 

But it all came to a head when Tommy called (Y/N) into his office. Usually, he never has any issues with his sister, so when John told her that Tommy wanted her in his office, she got nervous. She gets to his door and walks in, not bothering to knock. 

“Sit,” he orders, not looking up from the letter in his hands. This shocked her as he normally greeted her when she entered his office. It quickly dawned on her, Tommy was mad. He lights a cigarette and just stares at her. 

“What’s this?” he questions showing her the letter. 

“Well, obviously it’s a letter,” she states, trying to lighten the mood, It didn’t work too well. 

“I am being serious (Y/N). Why is Alfie Solomons sending you mail?” he digs, wanting an answer. (Y/N) was thinking of an answer, but she couldn’t think of one. 

“Well?” her eyes met his, his body language said anger, but his eyes held protectiveness and concern. 

“We had dinner when I was in London one time, and we kinda hit it off…” she trails off, fidgeting with her rings. Tommy rolled his eyes and threw the letter onto his desk.  He lit a cigarette, before studying her again. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I know men like him and they aren’t good men,” he states. 

“I know,” she says. Tommy was quite shocked at her reaction. He was expecting her to throw it right back into his face, like normal, but (Y/N) sat there like a child getting scolded. 

“But he isn’t scared of me. Everyone here is scared and intimidated by me, but Alfie isn’t,” she defends. 

“(Y/N),” Tommy tries to but in. “No. You, Arthur, and John all got to run around with different girls and got to experience some sort of relationship and love. What did I get, three over-protective brothers who scared off anyone who showed an inch of interest in me! Ay, even Finn had a girlfriend before I have a boyfriend!”

 ‘There’s my sister’ Tommy thought. “Alfie is the first person who is clearly not afraid of you or what comes with someone who comes with the Shelby name,” she says, now standing eye to eye with her twin.

(Y/N) didn’t want to hear another word from Tommy, she quickly grabbed the letter before walking out of his office, slamming the door while she left. She walked through the betting shop, eyes on her angry form. 

“What are you all staring at?!” she yells. All attention quickly leaves her. “That's what I bloody thought,” she muttered as she walks out to the streets of Birmingham. She dug out a cigarette and quickly lit it. Leaning back against the brick wall, she opened the letter, reading over Alfie’s words.  

(Y/N) hears the door beside her open and a shadow cast over her. She sighs, taking another drag of her smoke, not looking up. “Tommy you better fuck off right now. I am not in the mood to see you right now,” she says. 

“Well then, if that’s how you feel, I’ll just fuck off back to London,” a familiar voice says. Se quickly looks up to see Alfie standing in front of her. 

“Alfie!” she squeaks before jumping into his arms. He spun her around, enjoying the embrace. 

“What are you doing here?” she questions, most time she would meet him in London, not the other way around in Small Heath.  

“Thought it would be my turn to come to visit and come do some business with your brother. A win-win I’d fucking say,” he says, keeping the oldest Shelby sister close.  She looks into his ocean blue eyes, quickly glancing at his lips. Alfie catches the que and leans down to meet her lips. She felt sparks run through her as Alfie deepen the kiss. Before it could go any farther, someone cleared their throat. They broke apart and see Thomas standing by the door. He lights another cigarette, looking over the couple. He points at Alfie. 

“You’re serious about ‘er?” he questions. 

“I am,” Alfie states, not giving in. Tommy nods, taking another drag of his smoke.

“Don’t break her heart, or you’ll have the lot of us after you,” he states pointing to the London gangster. “And you, don’t break his face when you’re arguing,” he says pointing to his twin. (Y/N) rolls her eyes at her twins' words. 

“ Breaking my face?” Alfie questions, looking down at her. 

“I might have broken John’s nose once or twice when we have had arguments,” she comments, causing Alfie to laugh. 

“You’re a real spitfire aren’t ya.”

[frostedfaves]

Naive (2)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: You quickly discover that Wanda is different during the night.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️, mental manipulation, smut: oral, fingering, overstimulation, edging, penetration, sex toy use, dom/sub dynamics, biting, slapping(? just a lil)

A/N: no more thoughts except please share your own after reading this! writing this slutty shit kept me sane today so enjoy

Previous part

-

To your surprise and relief that eventually transformed into disappointment, Wanda didn’t make an appearance at all for the rest of the week. You spent each shift for the next few days anticipating her return, watching for her over the heads of shorter customers and through the shelves on your way in and out of the bookstore. You were starting to think that she was simply passing through your town and you were just lucky enough to cross paths with her.

“Hi there.”

“Wanda!” you yelp after looking up from your phone hidden behind the register, clearing your throat as you tuck it in your pocket. “Um, can I get you anything?”

“I’m surprised you remember me,” she laughs. “I’m sure you get hundreds of customers a day.” 

“You left a lasting impression,” you admit before you can stop yourself and she grins.

“So did you.”

There’s a brief pause before she adds your name to the end of her sentence with a flicker of something unrecognizable in her eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. Not knowing what else to do with yourself, you go to ask again what she’d like in the same moment she places a bottle of water on the counter.

“I got a really good recommendation the last time I was here, and I’d like to have it again.”

“Coming right up.” You ring up the exact same order, letting your gaze wander to her hand again as she inserts her card. “I never got to tell you how much I love your rings.”

“What?” She lifts her hand after removing her card and chuckles breathlessly. “Oh yeah, thanks.”

A frown appears on your features when you notice the way she grabs the receipt from you, almost as if she’s actively avoiding brushing fingers with you in the same way she did during her last visit. You’re able to replace the frown with a customer service smile, but you can’t shake the feeling that you experienced rejection before even posing a question. 

“I’ll bring it out to you soon,” you tell her before moving to the glass case, grabbing the food items and frowning again when you find her staring at you from the other side. “Is there something else I can get you?”

“What time do you get off today?” she asks in a rushed fashion.

“What?”

“I mean do you have any plans when your shift is done? I meet people all day long and you’re the first person that I’ve wanted to have a conversation with that lasts longer than a few minutes,” she explains a bit slower. 

“I only have an hour left,” you tell her as you slide her food into the oven. “What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe you could show me what fun things I could get into in this area. I’m a bit further away, Lane County, but I’m starting to enjoy it here more.”

“Well there’s a fair happening on the other side of town, if you don’t mind a long bus ride. I’m guessing you don’t since you live in Lane and you somehow ended up here.”

“Oh, I have a car.” She holds up her car keys with a grin and you laugh.

“Well then…” You pause and look over the counter to see that she’s wearing pants today. “I hope you’re not afraid of rollercoasters.”

-

Aside from the occasional flirting when you have no customers, Wanda waits patiently at the same table as before, standing and joining you the moment you reappear on the other side of the counter without your apron. Her rings are tucked away again, and she dares to brush her knuckles against yours as the two of you leave the bookstore.

“Let me get that for you,” she insists, jogging ahead of you to open the car door and you laugh.

“Is this a date? Should I be nervous right now?” you ask in a joking tone, well aware that you’re genuinely wondering.

“Only if you want it to be.”

You take a deep breath while she crosses to the driver’s side, offering her a casual smile once she’s seated next to you. She denies your request to give her the address, insisting that she’ll be able to follow your directions better instead of admitting that she just wants to hear your voice as much as possible. So you lead her to the expansive fairgrounds on the other side of town, feeling excitement build in your heart the closer you get to your destination.

“This place must hold some memories for you,” Wanda acknowledges your wide grin as she parks.

“No, I just haven’t been in a while,” you admit as you both get out of the car. “Friends are too busy and I try to avoid nighttime bus rides as much as possible.”

“You know, I don’t mind giving you rides at night. I’m well aware that public transportation isn’t the safest form of travel.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that! You live too far.”

“Okay then.” Wanda meets you near the fair entrance and grabs your hand, sliding her fingers between yours. “I won’t give you the chance to ask.”

The two of you are latched onto each other, fingers intertwined the whole night aside from being secured on rides or bathroom trips. You’re walking into the games area, each holding a drink when you suddenly pull Wanda over to a booth. 

“Sorry, I just saw that huge giraffe and wanted to try to win it!” you explain as you release her hand to grab a ticket from your pocket. “Can you hold my drink?”

While your back is turned, Wanda sets both drinks on a nearby table and slips her rings onto her hands, returning just in time for you to finish the game. She hands your drink back to you carefully and reaches out to grab the small stuffed toy you’re offered, brushing her fingers against the attendant’s hand as she did so.

“She wants the giraffe,” she threatens, retreating with a pleased smile when he immediately pulls it down for you. “Thank you!”

“How did you do that?!” you question as she hands it to you. “I mean thank you so much, but wow. I’ve never seen anyone give in so easily.”

“I’ve spent most of my life figuring out how to get what I want, love,” she tells you in a low tone, and a shiver travels down your spine when her hand makes contact with your hip. “What do you think about getting out of here?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you agree quietly, starting to feel as if every other thought that enters your mind is incoherent. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m taking you home.”

You assume she followed up on her word because you find yourself outside of your apartment building, and her hand closes around your wrist before you can leave the car.

“I had a lot of fun with you tonight.”

“Me too,” you admit, unable to prevent the smile that appears. “I guess this means you’re interested in more than friendship with me.”

“Is it that obvious?” She chuckles quietly as she raises her free hand to your jaw, watching you silently fall against her palm. “I’d bet you’d be a wonderful partner. My best girl.”

“I’d be so good for you,” you reply without hesitation, beginning to feel fuzzy and warm the longer she holds onto you.

“Yeah?” 

Your wrist drops onto the center console as the hand that isn’t resting on your jaw slips under the elastic waistband of your pants and underwear. You gasp when her fingertips begin teasing your entrance, bucking your hips slightly when you feel pressure on your clit.

“Wanda--”

“Shh, it’s okay, darling,” she assures you, slipping her thumb between your parted lips and grinning when they close around her without a fight. “I want to see how good you can be for me.”

She uses her middle finger to stroke slowly over your clit, eyes flickering over to your hips occasionally as they follow her movements. Her thumb slips further into your mouth, and your eyes flutter open when her ring touches your lips and a new sensation follows.

“You’re fine,” she soothes you when you let out a muffled whimper, sighing when she notices a group of people turn the corner at the end of the block and begin heading your way. “Let’s go inside. I don’t need an audience.”

Her fingers are removed from your underwear and in her mouth in seconds, and she practically growls as she cleans the bit of mess you left behind. You hurry out of the car and lead Wanda to your apartment, even in your haze able to remember to get her inside before Ruth sees you. In a few blinks, she’s hovering over you on the bed, and just when you think you can’t handle any more overwhelming sensations, she kisses you.

It’s breathtaking, quite literally you feel air leaving your lungs as if she’s stealing it herself. Your eyes feel like they’re glued shut and the grip she has on your waist is almost painful, but you can’t bring yourself to complain when she’s guiding you to grind on her thigh. Her lips are replaced with two of her fingers as she begins making her way down your body, carefully undressing you with her free hand and biting and kissing the skin she exposes.

“You’re unbearably wet,” she comments from between your legs, dipping her tongue inside you while stroking yours with her fingertips and humming loudly so you’ll arch into her more. “So fucking good.”

Her tongue is replaced with her fingers, and she begins slowly pumping in and out of you while sucking on your clit just to get a reaction. She grabs your hands as they go for her hair and hold them together by the wrists, readjusting so that her thumb can circle your clit when she pulls her head away.

“Being good means not touching unless I tell you to,” she scolds.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly through moans as she picks up her pace while adding another finger.

“You’ll have plenty of time to learn. I’ve decided to make you mine.” She continues to finger you as she brings herself back over you, ignoring your gasp when you notice her darkened eyes and pinning your hands above your head. “I can’t wait to make it official.”

Her head dips down and you fall over the edge just as she sucks your earlobe into her mouth, thrusting into you forcefully as she continues you fuck you well past the end of your orgasm while her other hand pushes your pinned wrists into the mattress as hard as she can. You’re just about to cum again when she pulls away entirely, quickly unzipping her pants and freeing a toy she had tucked away.

“That’s really big,” you comment with wide eyes that immediately flutter closed when she pushes the head of the toy inside you. “Fuck.”

“Watch your mouth,” she warns you with a quick slap on your cheek, lowering her hand to hold onto your neck just below your jaw while thrusting into you more. “If it’s so big, why is my pussy swallowing it so easily?”

“Because I want it,” you whine, releasing a loud moan when she slams her hips against yours. “Please please please, I want it.”

“I know you do, love.”

Her other hand pins your wrist against the mattress again as she leans forward and begins fucking into you as hard as she can. She slips her thumb back into your mouth to reduce your screams to muffled whines, grinning to herself when you sink your teeth into her flesh a few times.

“Begging for something you can’t even handle,” she teases, prying your mouth open with her thumb as she lowers her head closer to yours. “Perhaps we should start over.”

She waits until you start to cum and slips her tongue into your waiting mouth, and everything goes dark.

[meltwonu]

24. “Behave.”

58. “If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning?”

notes; racer/street-racing!au, dom!jeonghan, enemies!au kinda, blowjobs, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, some good ‘ol pussy slappin, size kink, edging, hair pulling! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS ANGELIC DEMON!! 🥂 🥳💕 Figured I should save Jeonghan for his bday hehe~ 😏 And glad it actually landed on a drabble post day too dkfhkdsjh sometimes i forget and then it’s all out of whack but i’m glad i remembered for once LOL 😭💕 As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

*queued post.

“Well? Take your pick, babygirl, I don’t have all night.”

You grit your teeth - hands balled up into fists by your side as Jeonghan stands by the driver’s side of his car with his arms outstretched in a nonchalant manner.

“Fuck you.”

“Well,” He starts, “We can, if you want? I’m not the one who preemptively told people I’d win that race… Which, last I checked, you just lost to, oh, that’s right, me.”

Jeonghan chuckles even harder when he sees how flustered you get with his words and he starts to walk towards you when  he sees you make no effort to comment back.

“Well? Maybe if you do something for me, I’ll let you say you beat me.” He licks his lips; eyes flitting up and down your body as he drinks you in. “Nobody was here to see it anyway, baby. I can lie for you if you wanna play~ Don’t you want the notoriety that you beat me? The respect you’ll get from other racers that you beat one of the best?”

“Can’t I just lie and say I won then? Who’s gonna check?” Muttering, you step closer and closer to your own car as he advances on you.

Your back presses into the cold metal as Jeonghan stops just a foot away - hands in the pockets of his jeans as he shrugs.

“Aww, that’s cute you think I wouldn’t swoop in and tell everyone otherwise. C’mon, play a game with me, baby~ It wouldn’t be the first time we played anyway~ And I feel like being nice tonight which, let’s be honest, doesn’t happen often.”

And Jeonghan is right.

He’d never let anyone say they beat him and he was willing to give you a free pass for just a small price.

And the bragging rights might just been enough for you.

“What do you want to play then?”

Jeonghan lets out a soft grunt followed by a chuckle - hands locked in your hair as he guides your head down onto his cock.

“Fuck, you can barely fit me into your mouth, baby… Mm, it feels so good and tight~ Makes me miss your pussy so much~”

You wrap your lips around his thick girth and hollow out your cheeks when he starts to shallowly thrust into your mouth - hands linked behind your back as you do your best to relax yourself when the head of his cock starts to reach the back of your throat.

“To think we were playing with no strings attached last time~ Ah, now the only way I get to play with you is if there’s something on the table to gain, huh? Tsk, such a shame, baby.”

You resist the urge to use your teeth for as long as you can - but you’re unable to stop yourself completely when you slowly drag your teeth along his shaft only minutes later.

Jeonghan growls from above you and pulls you off of him by the hair; tears momentarily blurring your vision at the stinging sensation on your scalp that comes with it.

“Ah, ah, ah, behave. We’re gonna play fair for this, babygirl. I’m already trying to be nice to you, y’know?”

“Are you? You have me on my knees sucking your cock in the middle of nowhere, Jeonghan.”

He clicks his teeth, nodding at your words as he mockingly pouts down at you.

“Damn, you’re right. How about you get on the hood of my car and I’ll fuck you instead. Let you get a taste of my cock spreading your pussy open again since I know you probably miss it so much~”

He lets go of your hair as you get up on shaky legs; hands going in to dust off your knees before you walk over to the front of his car.

Jeonghan watches you from behind as you turn and lay your back onto the cold metal - goosebumps rising on your skin as you spread your legs and pull your panties to the side. 

“Oh? Eager, are we?” 

“S-shut up and fuck me like--like you mean it.” 

He walks over to you and positions himself between your legs; hand wrapped around his cock as he guides it towards your core. 

“Hmm, when was the last time we got to play like this... Oh,” He grins as he guides his cock through your soaking folds before he slaps your clit with the head of his cock, “Must’ve been that time you came in second... Hah, in more ways than once, I guess~”

You bite your lip to hold in your moans but the action of Jeonghan teasing your soaking entrance has tiny whimpers and moans falling from your lips instead. 

“H-hurry up and--and fuck me already... I’m tired of this stu--stupid teasing shit...”

“If you don’t like my teasing, then why are you moaning? You’re shaking your hips like you want more too, baby~ You can be honest, y’know?”

He slides the shaft of his cock through your folds one more time before he positions the head at your entrance. 

“H-honest about what?”

“That you’re a ‘lil cockslut for me.” He smirks down at you before he slowly starts to inch his cock into your tight warmth and you fight the urge to beg him to fuck you hard and fast against the hood of his car. 

“O-oh... f-fuck...” You whimper, toes curling in the air as Jeonghan goes as slow as humanly possible to drag out his teasing.

“Mm, as tight as ever, baby~ Do you let anyone else fuck this pretty ‘lil cunt or do you save it just for me?” 

You let out a shaky moan when his cock curves into your g-spot; your walls immediately clamping down onto him as he stays seated inside your pussy. 

“W-what? Are you, ah, k-kidding? I just--just let W-Wonwoo and S--Seungcheol fuck me, mmh, l-last week at--at the same time...” You mutter.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes, trying to decipher if you were lying or not and only getting annoyed when he can’t tell. 

“Oh yeah? Damn they must’ve been fuckin’ terrible lays, huh? All of my cock isn’t even inside your slutty ‘lil cunt and I can see you already trying to fight the urge to cum~ Bet it took so much for you to even get this close since there, apparently, had to be two of them there~”

“F-fuck you...” 

He draws his hips back - thrusting into you at a leisurely pace knowing that the way he filled you up was already enough to have you on edge. 

“Were you thinking about me, baby?”

“Ngh, f-fuck, no...”

“No?” He replies in a mocking manner. “You weren’t thinking about how I made you cry cumming last time when you came on my cock at least three times before I even did? Your pathetic ‘lil cunt could barely take it all then too, just like right now~”

Jeonghan spreads your legs even further apart as you whimper and whine underneath him; teary eyes peering up at him as he smirks back.

“You already wanna cum so bad, I can see it in your eyes. I’ve only been fucking you for a few minutes and you already can’t handle it, huh, slut? I’m surprised you didn’t already just cum when I slid my cock into your tight ‘lil hole.” 

“J--Jeonghan...” Mewling, your back arches off of the hood when he pulls out of you all the way until only the head of his cock is inside. 

“What if I just fucked you like this all night, hmm? Just the head of my cock teasing you and never letting you cum~” 

“P-please... Don’t--don’t, a-ah, tease me... I--I can’t...” Your head thrashes from left to right as the delirium starts to set in when he brings you close to an orgasm only to take it away. 

“Mm, you’re no fun, babygirl~ You know I like to tease~ It only makes cumming that much more satisfying~” 

You’re about to retort when Jeonghan suddenly thrusts forward and sheathes most of his cock inside you at once - loud cries of his name when he starts to bring down his index and middle finger onto your sensitive clit in time with his thrusts. 

“You wanna cum so fuckin’ bad, then cum all you want. I’ll fill up this cunt of yours with my my cum too, while we’re at it since you're so impatient to get out of here.” He chuckles cruelly and eats up the way your body jerks with each slap of his fingers against your clit - never admitting that he was just as close to an orgasm as you were with your tight walls only sucking his cock in deeper. 

“J-Jeonghan, I’m--I’m--mmmph!”

He doubles his pace when he starts to feel your walls getting tighter and tighter around him; hips snapping into you as guttural moans spill from his lips when he feels your walls start to flutter around his cock.

“That’s right, babygirl, cum on my cock... Let me see how you get this cock wet~”

Your thighs tremble and you feel your entire body buzz with electricity when Jeonghan cums only moments later; the throbbing of his cock making your entire body feel warm as he cums inside your pussy.

And he fucks you through your high - his cock covered in a mixture of his cum and your wetness when he draws his hips back.

“Fuck, you still need to drive home too, baby. With your panties all soaked in my cum when it’s dripping out of your spent ‘lil pussy.” He scoffs under his breath as he pulls out completely; slapping your clit with his fingers once more as globs of his cum drip from your cunt onto the hood of his car. 

“But I guess you won this time, huh? Guess the way people will be scared of you now will feel so good, hmm?”

You shoot him a tired grin, eyes unfocused when you feel your panties slide back into place and start to soak with the sticky substance.

“Guess so, fucker.”

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Brazil 2016

-safety car start?

-water spray is cool

-Max is HIM

-him terrorizing Nico is my personal favorite form of entertainment

-how does one drive like this? that’s crazy

-McLaren car looks really cool

-oh no Sebbb

-seriously you can barely see the cars with this water

-where did Ocon come from fr? Wasn’t there another Esteban on the grid in Spain??

-damn not this guy blocking the pit entry

-damn he actually hit the wall

-if Max got a penalty for this I will scream

-genuinely need to know what inters do

-okayyy Checo! that was actually pretty cool recovery

-shit, Kimi is out

-wow is this how races used to be, with safety car after safety car?

-oh they’re all out of the cars? fun

-this is actually my first time watching a red flag

-not that the crash was fun, but this after stuff is interesting

-lol they’re such gossips

-aww my Spanish speaking men

-young Bono?!

-them using Lenovo laptops on chairs like they’re in an office is so bizarre

-I love baby maxplaining

-Daniellll 😭😭 (I miss him in Red Bull)

-safety car used to slay, what happened

-aww Kevinnn

-Lewis giving that lady a jacket: cute

-as a spectator , this part must have been so boring

-they’re finally back in the carsss

-they’re backkkk

-as cool as racing in the rain looks, it doesn’t feel very productive

-can you pit under safety car? god I sound stupid, someone teach me about tires

-half of this race was under safety car

-how did he go from “young Max” to “mad Max” in a span of a few years

-red flag?? again?? why??

-menace Max is my favorite Max

-I’m still confused about the red flag

-anddd they’re back in the pit lane

-I feel those people in the stands, I wouldn’t leave tho, I mean after paying that much

-“why are we stopping” indeed

-Nico is such a diva

-ohmygod baby Charlessssssss

-this is becoming a little boring and chaotic

-man I’m falling asleep (just now realizing I have the power to fast forward this, but I’m going to soldier on and experience this like it’s live)

-watching them talk about the rain for so long made me completely disassociate to the point where I forgot that the sun is actually out right now where I live

-the only exciting part of this race was Max overtaking Kimi

-please let them race already

-imagine just getting in and getting out while being sweaty and wet, I feel for these drivers

-“hurt or killed” honestly forget the risks these people take sometimes

-GIVE NICO.H A PODIUM

-are we still under safety car??

-Verstappen really be Roseberg’s sleep paralysis demon

-WE’RE GOING RACING!

-MAXXXXXX

“You’re going there, I’ll just go somewhere else then”

-aww they called him Maxyyy

-Daniel too!! Wohoo!!

-“it’s the red bulls that are making all the noise there”, that’s so true cause the whole race aside from this was boring

-let’s go Vettel!!

-I really like these McLaren cars

-Max Max Max

-future haasband’s fighting

-MAX!!!!!!!

-“save of the century”

that was so close!

-“Schumacher-esque” hell yeah

-oh? Esteban Gutierrez is still there?

-yayyy Seb!!

-hehe “moderately rude”

-did I mention the McLaren looks really cool?

-I’m sensing the Brocedes team drama here

-“Verstappen is the danger man to the Mercedes team” the foreshadowingggg

-I don’t like how they display the positions on the screen

-also “Ves”?

-ohmygod the fricking safety car is back

-poor guy, last home race (don’t really know him)

-just googled him: okayy 11 wins

-okay this do be sad, people are crying, oh no he’s crying, now I’m sad

-oh shit he got the “guard of honor”

-“all the agony is going to be washed away with this embrace” that’s really sweet

-ohmygod this is actually really sweet

-hope you’re well Massa ❤️

-this race is officially the most confusing one I’ve seen

-ohmygod from 16th???

-what is happening?!????

-LH really led the race from start to finish

-if Max makes it to points now I’m really impressed

-OHMYGOD someone’s off the road again!!!!!

-woah he’s up to p12

-yeah Max let’s go!

-he’s almost back in the points

-“Sebastian Vettel still can’t get past Carlos Sainz”

-YESS MAXX

“He’s finding grip where no one else is”

-okay it got interesting again

-he’s p9!!

-P8!

-yay Dannyyy

-p7!!!!

-“textbook lesson of how to drive in the rain” !!!

-yay Dannyyy pt2

-yay Dannyyy pt3

-woah Gutierrez is actually cute

-Carlos is so underrated rn

-Verstappen the man that you are!

-this is so cooool

-yessss

-nooooo

-but that was awesome!

-wheel to wheel!!

-damn Max

-holy shit he’s at p4 wth

-no way he makes it to podium

-he’s a beast, my god

-yes babyyy

-Checo defense force

-damnnnn that wheel actionnnn

-HE MADE PODIUM

-aii poor Carlos

-52nd career win! 👏👏

-do I want to watch the championship deciding race now??

-random but Lewis just sounded like Lightening McQueen right now while celebrating

-maxplainingggg (he just can’t resist)

-okay I’m watching Abu Dhabi

[ugh-yoongi]

devil’s in the backseat | pjm

↳ read on ao3 • feedback

» pairing: jimin x f!reader » genre: established relationship!au, smut, humor » rating: nc-17/explicit; minors dni » wordcount: 3.6k » warnings: mid-tier smut with a side of banter. two shitheads are deeply in love and fuck in a car. lots of swearing. mentions of fingering and bad handjobs. unprotected sex (don’t do this). complimentary bad car sex innuendos. » a/n: i was bullied gently encouraged to write this based on the above cursed butter concept photo. i also wrote and (barely) edited this in a few hours so i’m sure there are mistakes. if i missed any warning tags on the smut please let me know! as always, feedback/reblogs/unintelligible screeching in my inbox are always welcome. thank you for reading. ♡

“Sorry, could you just—”

“Ow, fuck! Get your knee out of there—”

You huff, hair billowing around your face from the breeze. “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve. This is your fault.”

(It’s not, really. The trouble with dating someone like Park Jimin is that you find yourself getting dragged down to his level more often than not. Something about those plush, pouty lips and twinkly anime eyes. It’s not often you find the strength to say no to him, so if Jimin had wanted to leave Hoseok’s party to go fuck in his piece of shit car—

Well, here you are, huh.)

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Just—just get in the back, alright? Maybe it’ll be easier.” He’s breathless, ninety-eight percent of his blood supply tragically lost to his cock.

You groan, pinching his arm. He yelps. “I suggested that earlier and you said, and I quote, ‘Baby, I’m just trying to get my exhaust pipe inspected, it’s not that serious.’ Did you not?” Jimin levels you with a pointed look, because now’s really not the time. He’s folded like a goddamn pretzel in the driver’s seat with a throbbing erection and you think it’s a good time to chastise him. “Did you not say that, Jimin?”

“Who cares?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his face. “My fucking dick is so hard it hurts. Can you please just get in the backseat?”

“No,” you harrumph petulantly. “Not until you admit I was right.”

Jimin had once spent two whole hours talking your ear off about medieval torture methods. Truth be told, it was all very gory so you don’t remember much, but you’re certain the bratty swivel of your hips against his lap is in the top five.

“Fuck,” he wheezes. “You’re fucking demonic. Why would you do that?”

You swivel them again. “Admit it.”

(The second problem with dating someone like Park Jimin is that he’s stubborn as fuck. Sometimes it’s great, like when he really needs to perfect a piece of choreography before a showcase and refuses to leave the studio until he’s got it down. Or that time he’d wanted to cook for you on a date but could barely even toast bread so he’d holed himself up in his apartment until he’d nearly perfected one whole recipe. You love his determination.

Other times it’s not so great, like now, when both of you are sweat-slicked and so horny you feel like you might die and he just won’t admit you were right.)

(Okay, so maybe you’re just as stubborn, but it’s not your fault. Letting Jimin win all the time would just be irresponsible. A plague upon society.)

“No.”

Another groan. Another rock of your hips, the denim of Jimin’s jeans making for some really uncomfortable friction. “Jimin—”

He threads his hands through your hair, tugging when they reach the root. “That’s really not the way I wanted you to be saying my name, you know. It’s really lacking panache.”

“Again, you’re the one who wanted to fuck in a car.”

“Again,” Jimin chokes out, teetering dangerously on the edge of horny delirium, his hips seeking any friction they can find, “it might not have been my finest idea. This really isn’t as hot as I thought it’d be.”

You stop your gyrating, an offended huff escaping before you can contain it. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I leave? I’m sure jerking your dick in your car and jizzing all over the glove box would be so much sexier—”

“Your dirty talk really leaves a lot to be desired,” he groans.

“Your piece of shit car leaves a lot to be desired, how about that?”

Another groan. He cocks his arm back and delivers a stinging slap to your ass. “You gonna buy me a new one, then? Maybe a nice, spacious SUV? Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pack you a picnic and we can—”

“I’ll give you a thousand won to shut the fuck up right now,” you grit out. Despite the fact there’s barely enough room to move, there’s a heat starting to simmer. If you could just widen your legs a bit more, readjust yourself just so in Jimin’s lap, you might be able to get a good rhythm going, might be able to salvage this shit-tier dry-humping session and turn it into something worth your time.

His hands leave your hair and find your hips, gripping them tightly to keep you from continuing your graceless pirouettes. “Stop, stop, stop,” he whines. “My fucking zipper is digging into my dick. Just—just get in the back, baby, please? You were right. About everything, okay? And I’m not just saying that because I’ll literally never forgive you if I don’t nut in the next ten minutes, either. I really mean it.”

“Wow,” you deadpan. “And they say romance is dead.”

Still, your hands fumble with the door handle, brisk autumn air filling the car once you push it open. “Fuck, it’s cold. Why didn’t you just climb in the back?” Jimin prods, because he can’t just let anything be. He always has to be a shithead.

“Because this is how civilized, non-heathen-like people behave,” you retort. “Plus, I couldn’t guarantee a tragic accident wouldn’t have occurred during which my knee slipped and went straight into your stupid dick.” You plaster on a saccharine smile. “We couldn’t have that, now could we?”

There’s a brief look of disbelief on Jimin’s face before it resets into something much more neutral and effortlessly cool. “I can’t believe I’m in love with you. What did I do in a past life to deserve this kind of suffering?”

With a scoff, you shuffle into the backseat, catching Jimin’s eye through the rearview mirror. “Trust me, if Past Life You is anything like This Life You, you fucking deserve it. Now, are you gonna keep sitting up there and whining about your boner or are you gonna join me?”

“Give me a second,” Jimin says, matching your scoff. He pulls out his phone. “I need to set the mood.”

Your eyes widen. “Park Jimin, don’t you dare put on that playlist.”

“Why?” he guffaws. “What’s wrong with ‘Songs to Fuck in a Car To’?”

“You didn’t name it that and you know it. You know damn well you named that playlist ‘Rev Her Engine: Songs That’ll Fill Her Tank While She Drives Stick’!” Jimin rolls his lips, trying desperately to keep from laughing. “And you know damn well you have it set so everyone can see whatever depraved shit you’re listening to!”

Jimin squawks, spinning around so he’s facing you. “Baby, you literally let me fuck you in front of Taehyung that one time at the—”

“Be very careful what you say next, Park Jimin.”

“—and now a harmless little playlist is a problem? Don’t tell me you’re going shy.”

You’re quiet for a while, ignoring both his words and the devilish smirk on his face. He thinks he’s got you, that you’re going to roll your eyes goodnaturedly and say you know what, babe, might as well, put the playlist on, who cares if we fuck to “Africa” by Toto seven times in a row, at least it’s not the Weezer version, because that’s what you usually do. Again, sometimes it’s really hard to say no to Jimin, even if that’s a fact he exploits often and you know you should do better.

However, you school your expression to be as blank as possible, and then you say, “Mind hurrying up? I’m drying up back here,” and that seems to snap Jimin out of his gloating.

As is typically the case, if Jimin had just listened to you to start, the two of you would probably be cuddling right now in post-orgasm bliss. Despite Jimin’s car being older than both of you, the backseat is surprisingly spacious, the foam not worn down and lumpy from overuse like it is in the front. It would’ve made for a great spot to stare up at the stars through his cracked sunroof.

“How do you want to do this?” Jimin asks, poking his mop of fire-red hair through the open door. “Not gonna lie, after that preview I got in the front seat, I’m low key questioning your dick-riding abilities.”

“Keep talking shit and I’ll never ride your dick again, you asshole.”

With another smirk, Jimin shuts himself in the back of the car, draping his lithe frame between your spread legs. “So touchy, baby,” he murmurs, nose and lips ghosting along the column of your throat. “You know I love the way you ride me. I even printed out that certificate for you that one time.”

“You love it because you’re lazy as fuck.” You gasp as he presses his hard cock against your core. “And my parents saw that certificate last time they visited, by the way,” you choke out. “My mom was pissed.”

Jimin giggles, moves to thread your fingers together so he can pin your arms above your head. “Sorry. Should I skip Christmas this year?” he snarks, rolling his hips again. And to think dating a dancer had seemed like a good idea once upon a time.

“Jimin, please—”

He rolls his hips a third time, delighting in the pitiful whine that escapes you. Jimin loves you all the time but he especially loves you like this—pliant and soft and not giving him shit. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers, lips trailing over every bit of bare skin he can find. “Beg me. Let me hear it.”

“I’m begging you to shut up,” you fire back. Christ, he really knows how to use his mouth. “Not—not gonna beg you for shit else.”

“Bold words for someone leaving a wet spot on my favorite jeans.”

You manage to free your arms, trembling fingers immediately zeroing in on the zipper of his pants. One hand snakes inside and palms him over his briefs, drawing out a whine even worse than yours had been. “That wet patch is from you, idiot. I thought you said my dick-riding abilities were questionable, yet here you are, about to cum in your pants like a fucking virgin.”

Baiting Jimin is so easy. Always has been. Rivals how easy the man himself had been during your first date, had only taken a few sultry gazes and an accidentally-on-purpose brush of your hand against his thigh. So you’re not surprised when he takes it, groans as he bangs his shin trying to shuck off his jeans and underwear before he gives up and shoves them down to his knees.

But you also know when to stop looking a gift horse in the mouth. As much as Jimin loves fucking you—as much as the two of you love fucking each other—he’s not above stuffing his dick back in his pants and leaving you high and dry if you tease him enough. He’s done it before, and although you can’t say you’ve fully learned your lesson, you’ve certainly retained about sixty percent of it.

Enough to know when to shut up, surely.

“Rather cum in you,” Jimin admits shamelessly, voice growing hoarse. All you can do is marvel at the way his lips look as all those dirty words spill out of them.

The thought alone is enough to have you wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, urging him to get on with it in fractured whimpers, to just push your skirt up, push your thong to the side, just—

“I can’t,” Jimin complains. “Your skirt’s too… floofy.”

“Floofy?” you repeat. “What the fuck.”

To illustrate his point, Jimin grabs the hem of your skirt and tries pushing it upwards, up over your hips, but—yeah, it’s too floofy. There’s too much tulle so it doesn’t really fold, just flops back over your face.

(This is the last time you let Jimin choose your Halloween costume. You hadn’t even wanted to go as Grease characters or whatever he’d suggested. Didn’t want to wear a god-awful poodle skirt or give yourself pin curls and use words like sock hop and play ‘50s housewife, didn’t want to pretend to be a good Christian girl while you sucked on the straw of a milkshake like next month’s rent is due, but then Jimin had bribed you with the image of him in skintight jeans and a leather jacket and his hair slicked back and, well.

Here you are.)

“Just take it off, then. Or don’t and just leave it over my face,” you snark. “I literally do not care. Just need you to fuck me so I can get out of this car and get some feeling back in my limbs. I think I feel a blood clot forming.”

“You’re so melodramatic,” Jimin grumbles, but he pulls your skirt down your legs anyway and barely manages to shove it under the seat. There’s still some tulle sticking out. “You know I wanna see that pretty face, baby. Always cum so much harder when I can see you.”

See, the thing with long-term relationships is that you sort of adopt a sixth sense when it comes to your partner.

For instance, you have your own form of Geiger counter when it comes to Jimin, except instead of measuring radiation, it measures his level of horniness. Sometimes those are one and the same, because when he reaches Spews Absolute Filth levels of horny, you know that counter’s maxed as far as it can go and if he doesn’t get some sort of relief very fucking soon, you’re very likely to get your atoms rearranged and ionized, too.

(You’d told Jimin about this once, to which he replied, “Would rather rearrange your guts instead, baby,” and that had been the end of that.)

All of this to say Jimin reached that point a while ago.

So you spit in your hand and try not to think about how they’re going to smell like saliva later as you wrap it around his cock and start pumping. You don’t even pull your hand away when he whines and starts thrusting into your fist, because you know how desperate he is for the smallest crumb of relief.

That’s not to say you don’t tease him because you do. Twisting your hand in that way you know drives him crazy. Run your thumb over his slit. Grasp him with his preferred amount of pressure, because he’d been horrified and almost ran out of your dorm screaming the first time you’d attempted to give him a handjob so you had him teach you.

(Honestly, he was just being overdramatic. As a nursing student, you’d just finished your practical on how to insert catheters. You were just being methodical, and you tried explaining to him that he’d be thankful if he ever needed one inserted, you knew a gal who was great at it, had passed with flying colors, but he wasn’t having it. Just screeched about your lax grip and how weirdly medical it felt and grabbed the lube you kept in your bedside drawer and said, “Welcome to How to Give a Handjob 101. I’m Park Jimin and I’ll be your instructor for this course.”)

He’s approximately sixteen seconds from cumming all over your hand when he shoves two fingers in your mouth to wet them. It’s approximately six seconds after that that they’re tracing your folds and pressing inside. Like that botched handjob had been, it’s less sexy and more practical, but you know the ends will justify the means so unlike Jimin and his overdramatic screeching, you don’t complain. You just rock your hips to meet his fingers and moan when he crooks them, feeling a bit guilty about the squelch because you know it drives him crazy.

“Fuck. Oh—fuck, fuck, fuck. Need to fuck you,” he says, swatting your hand away from his cock. He curses the second the tip brushes against your slick warmth. “This is going to last an embarrassingly short amount of time and I don’t wanna hear it.”

You keep quiet, pulling his mouth down to meet yours instead. It’s a filthy, urgent kiss—the kind that’s more tongue and teeth than anything else. The kind of kiss that’s all gasoline-doused fire instead of carefully controlled. The kind that has you moaning loudly into his mouth as soon as he pushes inside of you, your body still not used to the stretch no matter how many times you’ve done this.

In a lot of ways, Jimin fucks the way he dances. Meticulous, determined, fluid. Even when he’s close to the edge, the last strands of his self-control liable to snap at a moment’s notice, his body doesn’t miss a beat, stays precisely on rhythm, hips snapping into you sharply. In a lot of other ways, Jimin fucks nothing like he dances. Sometimes he moves purely on instinct, does whatever feels most likely to bring him to release as quickly as possible.

That’s how he’s fucking you right now, like his body is frantic with need, desperate to cum.

His lips move to your ear, bite at the skin of your lobe. “Touch yourself for me, baby,” he grunts. “Need to see you cum for me.”

There’s a riposte on the tip of your tongue, a make me cum yourself, coward that’s nearly tangible. For the sake of his orgasm, Jimin silently prays you keep it to yourself. And you do—your entire being overwhelmed by him until you can barely string coherent sentences together, Jimin Jimin Jimin being the only thought in your brain.

The duality of him always leaves you lightheaded and dizzy. How he can look so angelic, how tinkling his laugh can sound; how dark his gaze can get, how needy and thick his voice becomes when you’re beneath him like this.

You can feel your walls clenching tightly around him each time he pulls back and fucks back into you, can feel how determined your body is to keep him buried to the hilt. As much as you love to rib him, love to tease about how quickly your tight cunt can get him off, you’re not faring much better. So you listen, bring your fingers down to rub at your clit, chalking his stuttered moans as personal victories as he takes in the sight.

“You feel so good,” you moan. “Fuck—Jimin, fuck. Oh my god.”

His pace begins to falter the closer you drag him to orgasm. “Are you—”

“Cum,” you tell him. “Fucking cum, Jimin, wanna feel it.”

Maybe he can survive the visual of you rubbing frantic circles into your clit as you get yourself off. Maybe he can survive the tight, unyielding heat of you. But you know he can’t survive hearing you talk to him like that, the way your nails scrape down his back and settle on his ass as you try to push him deeper.

He cums so hard he barely makes a sound, just collapses on top of you as his thrusts slow into shallow, grinding ruts, fingers digging bruises into your hips. His mouth finds yours again, the way it always does after he cums and he’s feeling vulnerable, as if he can spill all of those emotions into your mouth, press them into your tongue, your skin.

And you do—you just swallow whatever he gives you, always needy for him.

When he pulls away, he lingers in your space long enough to press his forehead to yours. “I love you,” he says, whisper-soft like spun sugar. “Let me take care of you. Clean you up, make you cum on my—”

“Later,” you compromise. “This car is looking a bit too much like that sex scene in Titanic and it’s starting to creep me out.”

Jimin’s brow furrows at your words until he looks up, taking in the sight of his fogged-up windows. You’re right. All that’s missing is a smeared handprint and a nude sketch of you in nothing but a gaudy necklace and the two of you wouldn’t be too far off from dying in a shipwreck.

Still, it’s a blow to Park Jimin’s ego for you to not have cum. “Are you—”

You wave him away, pushing his body off of you. “Jiminie, honestly, I’m fine. Remember when I said I felt a blood clot forming? Yeah, wasn’t lying. I’m too young to go on blood thinners or have spider veins.”

Both of you wince as he pulls out. While you pretend not to feel his cum dribbling out of you, Jimin pretends not to see it seep into the fabric of his seats. “Gross,” he mutters. Feels around blindly for both of your clothes.

“Gross?” you repeat. “How do you think I feel? You can just wipe it away. I have to spend the rest of the night feeling like some kind of cream-filled pastry.”

Jimin’s features scrunch up. “Really?” he deadpans, handing over your skirt.

“I’m just saying. These panties are going to stain. I’m gonna have to throw them in the sink as soon as we get home.”

Jimin helps you out of the car as soon as you’re both fully dressed. Grabs your hand and pulls you into him when you move to get back in the passenger seat, presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your temple, then your lips. Smiles at you like he knows a secret, and you guess he does.

“Guess we better get you home then, huh, my little Bavarian cream doughnut?”

[emletish-fish]

Cobra Kai season 5 thoughts

so I binged the whole thing and this was stupid karate soap opera at it’s best. Thoughts below.

What a fun season and what a wild ride. I have minor quibbles about some story lines but on the whole I was completely entertained and never bored.  Honest confession - Season 4 bored me in places, but this was enthralling. Everything scene held my attention.

My main complaint is the usual some storylines feel really rushed, but it’s more in a “10 episodes isn’t quite long enough to tell the story they want to tell”  type way. I can’t think of anything I would have cut to make more time (aside from karate fetus but I’ll probs do a seperate post about my feelings regarding that plotline).

But like... even the Kreese stuff landed well. (So glad they aren’t redeeming him and are still letting him be a villain. Humanising him while at the same time reminding us that he’s wrong. But his scenes were compelling and I am keen to see what his spiteful ass does now that he’s out).

Stuff I loved:

Chozen!!! Chozen my beloved. What a great dude. I could watch eight hours of just him teaching kids how to protect eggs. Every scene was a joy.  Love his and Johnny’s almost immediate ride-or-die/let’s choose violence thing they have going on. (which is so hilarious because they both at different points counselled Daniel against violence, but as soon as it was the two of them they were like ‘yeah, let’s go hit stuff’.)  His final fight with Terry was thrilling and spine tingling.  This is the high-stakes dramatic karate fight I want in my karate soap opera.

(This was one of the better side-effects of moving the main driver of the plot to the adults because it allowed higher stakes in the scenes. Eg I’m not afraid to kill/die is epic dialogue.)

Daniel finally getting to face his demon and win. People who love hurt comfort were winning with this season. How everyone rallied around him, and how his trauma was validated and just his unhinged descent and then everyone elevating him and pulling him back, and he was finally able to incorporate the Quicksilver method but by using it his way - for defense. Truly bastardising Terry’s much vaulted ‘legacy’ and making it his own.  using the man’s own poison against him without letting it tough his heart. *chef’s kiss* love it.

Terry was ab absolutely magnificent bastard of a villain - and he was having the time of his life, taunting and plotting and smirking and scheming and coming up with outlandish plans.  Always compelling to watch.

Johnny (mixed bag this season mostly due to karate fetus storyline), but overall I loved this trajectory for him and he had some really great moments and some lovely growth. Love that his focus was on improving himself, trying to build a family, make amends to Robby and was able to show care for his students (like Devon and Hawk). loved that he showed apprecation for Demetri’s nerd diversity. (gainfully employed demetri my beloved).  It’s nice to see Johnny’s big heart come to the front again and that he was finally allowed to grow.  (Season 6 must really be the last season because they’ve stopped dragging some of this stuff out and are instead speed-running some of their main plot points).  Love that his final plot point was that he was better when he was fighting FOR the people he loved, rather than just AGAINST the people he saw as the enemy.

Tory and Sam finally working together. Sam saving Tory. OMG.

Robby Miguel and Hawk and Demetri all in the same dojo.

The kids being smarter and having a better plan than the adults.

I’m not a fan of the kid romances so I was so glad they were all put on the back burner.

I actually think I might do a separate post about everything that was great in the kids storylines. So much great stuff.

I didn’t even mind mike barnes. he added a bit of unpredictable chaos to the finale.  (also love that he engaged in art theivery from terry silver as a form of compensation - which is a plot point of mine from ‘Good Boy’, so it was nice to see it in the show. everyone should steal from Terry. it’s good for the soul.)

my only two quibbles are the karate fetus storyline  - which was actually completely unnecessary given what they would use the plot for. Robby is right there and he deserves to have his Dad make this kind of effort for him (and it would have made more sense/been more emotionally satisfying and tied in better with earlier seasons). I think Johnny’s story would be even better if he was working to improve himself for his son rather than an unborn fetus.  related quibble, due to time constraints, we didn’t really get any resolution to much of Robby’s trauma, and instead he was running around making amends and trying to elevate others and putting them ahead of himself (which is on brand for him, ngl). I might write another of what I would do differently to fix this issues.

but aside from those two quibbles - this season was fun and it was such a huge step up from season 4. It was unhinged and heartfelt and incredibly enjoyable to watch.