#or if you have any advice for anything here then I would appreciate it!

[paingoes]

Rubies - Encounter

the thing i just said i would write >:)

set later into rubies

(Content: living weapon whumpee, whumpee-turned-caretaker?, bad caretaker, multiple whumpees, verbal abuse, conditioning, blood, past trauma, comfort)

LEVON: I wish you’d told me you were tagging along! I would have given you a heads-up. DELTA: thats okay DELTA: it doesnt really bother me DELTA: its nothing i havent seen before LEVON: Yes I’m sure. LEVON: Nevertheless I thought you would appreciate the warning. DELTA: eh

LEVON: I notice this is becoming a bit of a pet project of yours. LEVON: I would have passed more information along to you if I’d known you were interested. In fact I considered doing so in the beginning. LEVON: I was worried you would feel tokenized by it. LEVON: Also to be perfectly honest with you I would prefer that you stay out of imperial territory. DELTA: i think i actually would have felt a bit tokenized by it in the beginning tbh that was probably a good call DELTA: its different if im doing it on my own time DELTA: im sorry i hope you dont think im ignoring your orders by coming here LEVON: They weren’t formal orders. DELTA: i know but still i dont want to come off as disrespectful for it DELTA: i do value your advice i dont mean to blow you off LEVON: Delta, it’s fine. DELTA: okay cool LEVON: It’s going well, then? DELTA: yeah there was only one of them and no one was expecting her to be here clearly DELTA: im not with her right now though im with kitty we are in the server room LEVON: Okay. I’m getting word that there are a few patrollers already orbiting close by, so I’d suggest you wrap it up quick. DELTA: yeah we are finishing up now LEVON: Be careful. DELTA: yessir LEVON: Goodbye. DELTA: bye captain

Kitty looped up another loose cable, one more fire hazard. Delta slipped the phone back into the pocket of his pants. His other hand extended to her to help her up to her feet.

From below, another loud crash.

“Sounds like it’s working.” Kitty’s eyes lit up.

They walk down the bloodstained steps. Most of the place had already been cleared out by the time they arrived. The two of them are almost never at any active sight. Third wave, maybe second wave, if anything. Kitty was IT. Delta did a little bit of everything now, but was too valuable as a psychic to ever endanger with capture.

He was only the second psychic to enter the manor. The first was downstairs, doing everything she could to destroy what was around her. As they descended back to the first floor, they saw the mess she had made of things.

“Get away,” she said, “Get away. Get away.”

The silver collar glistened around her neck. The same light shone just by her eyes, reflected from the tears that were forming there.

Infantry was the one to deal with her — they were being surprisingly gentle about it.

“Easy. Easy, I know you’re scared,” a sniper of all people promised her, both hands raised in a placating surrender. “Let’s all slow down. We won’t hurt you.”

“No!” she shouted back. She was crying in earnest now. 

“We’re going to get you help, okay? But we need to go now.”

“I don’t want to go! I can’t!” 

In that exact instant, Delta noticed that her collar was broken in places. It was malfunctioning. Her powers were slipping through the cracks.

“Get away from me!” Her voice was shrill, pitched with panic. “Stay back or I’ll - I’ll-“

As she said it, a little halo of crystals was forming in a blaze right by her head. It was a crown of glass. In the space above her, the shards appeared out of thin air.

Kitty stepped forwardly slightly. It did something to him then, to hear her slip back into sweetness. The words had the same gentle tone that she’d used for him when they’d first dredged him up out of the water. When he was scared.

“It’s okay,” she promised. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. We want to help, okay? Just wanna help.”

“Leave me alone!” the girl yelled back. In the same instant, her right hand cut an arc through the air.

The glass flew like shrapnel. They were small pieces, but hard and razor sharp. She managed to pierce quite a few of them. But what Delta saw most precisely was the shard that flew only inches from Kitty’s face. Just barely missing her.

It was mostly adrenaline that moved him then;  his heart was beating too quickly for him to make sense of it. But in the next second, he’d zeroed in on the psychic.

The pulse knocked her back into the wall. It didn’t hurt — he knew exactly how to make it hurt and he didn’t — but it had shocked her. He caught her wrist, pinning it there. The hands were conduits. Though it was still possible to use their powers without moving an inch, the immobility gave the impression of helplessness. That’d be enough for now.

“Stop.”

She went still, but there was tension rigged in every inch of her body.

“You do not use your powers without permission.” His voice was low, more venomous than he meant it to be. “That is the first thing they teach you and there is no excuse for having forgotten it.”

She shrank away from that. They were sensitive to scolding — every single one of them.

“Sorry,” she whispered. She flexed her fingers where they were held. Little shards of glass were still raining softly from the ceiling.

“Listen to me. We are leaving. It doesn’t matter if you want to or not. You’re not going to fight them. And you’re going to do as they ask. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You do? You’re going to behave yourself? Because you can just as easily leave here in chains if you don’t.”

“Yes, sir,” she swallowed. She refused to look at him.

It was an acceptable surrender. He released her wrist, but not before wrenching it in the same direction that the others were waiting. He pointed.

“Go.”

She went obediently. One of the medics hovered their hands by her shoulder, not quite touching, but guiding her over to the exit.

There were little indentations in her skin where his claws had been.

He’d cowed her. Delta sat there for a second, alight in the afterglow of cruelty. It hadn’t felt good, but alarmingly enough, it had felt natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d learned from the best, after all. 

The thought made him sick.

Kitty was staring at him. A couple of them were. He knew before he even turned around. 

Sorry you had to see that, he almost said. But that seemed a bit inadequate, all things considered. He said nothing instead. Already, he felt a blush rising to his cheeks.

He moved to her, side-stepping carefully around the littered glass. Kitty still looped her arm in through his own. She didn’t hate him for it, which would have been about the worst thing he could imagine. 

“That was kinda fucked up,” she whispered to him as soon as they’d climbed onto the carrier.

“Fucked up of me?” he asked.

“Yeah, a little fucked up of you!”

Delta nodded. He’d assumed that was what she meant.

“She’ll be fine,” he exhaled. “Believe me, she’s more than used to it.”

“They really talked to you like that?” Kitty frowned.

Ungrateful. Disrespectful. Brat. Don’t you ever-

Delta bit his lip, nodding. Used to it. He traced the skin around his collar with the tips of his fingers.

“I don’t care if she hates me,” he decided. “As long as she’s out. Of all the things she has to get over, she’ll barely remember this one.”

Something about that didn’t sit right, though. 

~

Worse than cruelty was unpredictability. He worried about playing the same games that Simon had — pulling rank one second and coddling the next. It was a mean thing to do. He thought it’d be better if he just never saw her again. The ones looking out for her now could teach her in their own time. He wouldn’t further disrupt their signals.

This resolution, once he came to it, barely lasted the length of an hour.

“Can I see her?” he peeked into the quarters where they kept her.

The girl sat idly on the edge of the bed, both hands folded in her lap just the way she’d been trained to. Her hair had come undone — and now furled into spirals at the base of her neck. She’d gone dead-eyed. That was exactly how they wanted them.

She still startled when he entered. 

“Sorry,” she said without hesitation, with no conscious effort. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He used to think he was good at apologizing, after a lifetime spent groveling for forgiveness. It had been such a difficult day when he first realized that that wasn’t what anyone wanted from him anymore.

“Easy. Hey.” He raised both hands up slightly in surrender. “Not gonna hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. You’re okay.”

The look she gave him in return suggested she did not — could not — believe him. Fair. She was less than one day out, after all. He didn’t even bother to correct her on the honorific. If she was anything like him, it would take years to undo the habit.

Her chest rose and fell without her eyes ever leaving him, like an animal backed into a corner. He moved slowly for her sake, lowering himself until he sat cross-legged on the Persian carpet.

He thought he was good at apologies once, before he knew what they were supposed to be. By now, he was good in earnest. He’d been a fast learner all his life — and pride was something he’d never been afforded.

“I’m sorry for speaking to you like that. It won’t happen again. No one here will ever speak to you like that. I only did it because we were short on time and we wanted to get you somewhere safe. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

His hands moved nervously against his sleeves. He almost stopped them, before remembering he didn’t have to. When he looked up, she was still staring unblinking. Her jaw has loosened a bit.

No one had apologized to her in a very long time. She had no script to follow for it. So when she said something completely unrelated, it came as no real surprise:

“What are you going to do with me, sir?” 

There was something like betrayal in her voice. That hurt most of all.

“You’re like me,” she realized.

For some reason, this almost embarrassed him. In Galatea, his abilities are mostly rumors. Even the ones who knew for certain still assumed he was low-level. There were only a handful who knew the full extent of it. But for the most part, psychics recognized their own. 

“I came the same way,” he said softly. “This was a rescue. You haven’t been stolen. It’s okay if you don’t believe that right now. But you’re free. Only rule is that you can’t hurt anyone while you’re here — everyone follows that one, not just you.”

“I wouldn’t-“ she said hurriedly. “I wouldn’t, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, sir. Please.”

“It’s okay. You’re not going to be punished for it,” he said. “I’m not mad at you. No one is.”

Just scared, for a second. Scared of her, just like they’d been of him. The fear is what drove people crazy, what made them decide it was right to keep them in chains all his life. She was scared out of her mind, too. But no one ever cared about that.

“You’re safe,” he promised. “I know it doesn’t feel like it. I didn’t feel like it as first either — and I know I just made you feel unsafe. But it won’t happen again. No one will ever treat you like that again.”

“…Yes, sir,” she agreed, looking down at her own shoes. 

It wasn’t sinking in all the way. He didn’t sigh, even though he wanted to. He couldn’t believe how patient Kitty and Apollo had been with him in those early days. He’d never be grateful enough. He’d never be good like them, not really. All he could do was try.

“Tell them if you need anything,” he suggested. “It’s not a trick question. They’ll get it for you if they can. And they won’t punish you for asking.”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded.

Poor kid, he thought dimly. The thought surprised him. He’d never thought anything of it before, when he’d been in her position. It all just felt normal. The way he was meant to behave. It was only after years of living outside of it that he could see it for what it was.

He stood up wearily from his spot on the ground. She flinched a bit as he did, but he knew he shouldn’t take it personally.

“You can sleep too, by the way,” he reminded her. “You don’t need to ask permission.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. There was actual relief in her voice when she answered that time. She’d been waiting to hear it.

~

The first thing he did after closing the door was go to find Kitty. She’d been curled up by the bay windows when he finally spotted her. He climbed onto the cushion next to her. She was peering at him from over the edge of her laptop screen.

“All good?” she purred.

“She’ll be fine.” He nodded. As fine as any of them could be. He really did think that his own cruelty towards her would only scrape the surface of all that she would have to recover from. But that wasn’t an excuse.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” he said softly. It sounded almost childlike now. But it was far from the first time he’d said it. “Even when I was being difficult. You were always nice.”

“You were never difficult!” Kitty gasped. “What are you talking about? You’re my favorite.”

That alone would’ve been enough to make him cry last year. Even now, he got close.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter @sir-fenris

[marvogue]

Small fandom update

I don't know how people multi-fandom but I'm doing my best 🫡 My carrd in case you're looking for me elsewhere

Look below the cut for how I'm doing with:

Destiny 2

Golden Sun

Sky

FF14

Streaming

Destiny 2

I still play! I still enjoy the game and have been raiding weekly with a small group. We're actually trying to find more members to join our small raid team 🥺 art wise, my pile of wips grows and grows and nothing gets completed lmao (whispers I also have a new oc in the works)

Golden Sun

The nostalgia is still running strong. I recently joined a group to soon start playing the game Randomized and I'm super excited to start. I currently have a couple art wips for these games 😊 I'm just super slow lmao

Sky

I stopped playing 😭 I got burnt out trying to spend min. 1 hour a day grinding candles. If you're following me for Sky content, it's OK, you can unfollow because I won't be drawing it anymore 🥲👍 (which makes me so sad because I loved the aesthetic of the game so much) I will still follow and look at Sky art though 🫶

FF14

I still play! I'm midway in Dawntrail and I recently bought a house! All of my efforts atm are going into (very slowly) decorating my house and levelling my classes. I'm trying to wrap my head around how to fashion good too (one of my fav outfits is locked behind an extreme atm... help...)

Streaming

I stream a couple times a week! Once for art, once for Golden Sun, then a third variety game. Channel points are either used for Chat God Mode where chat bullies me using points (once a month) or to donate towards a scary game to scare the heckkkkkk out of me. I'm still very much enjoying the experience 😊 though I'm bad at sending out reminders when I'm streaming 🥲 (they are auto-sent on my discord though wink wink)

That's everything major atm! If there's anything new, you'll see me obsess about it >:) and then I will eventually add it to my pinned message hahaha

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Dating the Slytherin boys (+ Harry) ▪ HEADCANONS

Requested: No

Characters: Mattheo Riddle, Tom Riddle, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Regulus Black, Harry Potter (+ y/n)

Warnings: NSFW mentions, English is not my first language

A/N: I'm not sure I like this but here we go. However I have to say I like Regulus' one so I might turn his version into a one shot one day (when uni won't be killing me slowly). This will include also the pre-dating/flirting stage as well. SORRY FOR THE TYPOS. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Enjoy! ^^

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus

Tag list for this story: @anawritez-posts @pumpkinchee @alwayslatetothefandoms

Mattheo Riddle:

His feelings for you probably confused him at first 

If he falls first, he either won’t let you know or will do everything to get your attention (‘Hey, y/n, come sit here, the seat is free!”, “y/n, do you mind helping me with the homework for Snape? I can’t bloody do it”, “How about we go to Hogsmeade, just you and me?”, “you look beautiful, y/n”)

Your love for him always calms him when he gets anxious or when he’s upset, especially after his father comes back

Will tell you things he never told anyone

Would rather spend time with you than with his friends

Is terrified something will happen to you because of his father 

VERY jealous, but trusts you

Despite easily getting angry, he can’t get mad at you. Even during arguments 

LOVES sleeping in your arms or when you just hold him

He's crazy about your body

Loves showering with you, and we both know how it often ends

HOT, passionate sex

Will randomly eat you out without expecting anything in return (doesn't mind if you return the favor, though)

100% calls you "baby" or "love" all the time

Doesn’t care about what anyone thinks of him as long as you love him

Your love makes him feel lighter and stronger

You're his whole world

Feels bad when he hears someone criticize you for dating him 

Always makes sure you don’t overwork yourself, and makes sure you get enough sleep, water and food, and comforts you when you're anxious

Holds your hands when he's anxious or stressed

Will listen to anything you have to say 

Crazy about your perfume

Theodore Nott:

Struggles to express his love or feelings in general, at least in the beginning 

Has never done serious relationships before, and it may cause some trouble in your relationship, as you end up believing he doesn’t care about you

It causes many fights, and the last one will be the first time he says ‘I love you’

Always goes to you for comfort 

Loves sleeping with you in his arms, or cuddling, and with time he can’t sleep without you

Loves watching you sleep 

Loves having you on his lap

Always gets you great gifts (even randomly)

“Well, it thought it was pretty, and…it reminded me of you.”

Will fight any guy who is rude to you or acts like a creep 

Very jealous (trusts you, doesn’t trust others)

Doesn’t mind PDA at all, will gladly hold your hand or kiss you in public

Always has a hand on your waist or his arm around your shoulders 

Very supportive in everything you do, even when he doesn’t understand it/isn’t really interested in it

Isn’t very good with comforting people (mostly because he's not used to it), but will hold you and listen to you as long as you need, can even give you advice/reassurance 

Every compliment/'I love you' you say melts his heart and means much more to him than he shows, same goes for anything you do for him

Loves doing fun things, even if it’s just throwing snowballs at each other during winter (which ends in loving kisses, just savouring the joy of being together)  

Love getting in a pool with you and playing "childish" games during summer

Any form of intimacy means A LOT to him 

He's used to hooks up and "fucking" but it takes him a bit of time to have sex with you (despite being crazy about you and your body) because you mean everything to him and with you it's really making love instead of just "fucking"

The first time is loving and slow yet passionnate (eye contact at all times, hands holding, desperate kisses from him), and it gets a bit rougher and passionate the next times (but aftercare, which he isn't used to, is always on point and keeps getting better)

Is secretly very insecure, and is terrified you will leave him (especially for another “better” guy) 

Craves your touch and your love but won’t admit it

His boggart is probably you being dead alongside his mother

Will tell you sweets things in Italian

Very clingy in private - and also in public with time

With you he learns to be happier and discovers a happier side of himself he didn't know he had

Loves you much more than he actually shows at first 

Will often say you're all he has (and means it)

But with time, you have no reason to doubt his love and he’s the perfect boyfriend

Blaise Zabini:

Probably will court you like the gentleman he is

He doesn’t trust people easily and might be a little distant (while always polite and kind) in the early stages of your relationship 

But with time he becomes very warm and smiles a lot

Always kisses the top of your hand or your forehead 

Doesn’t do much PDA except for holding hands and kisses on your forehead

However in private he’ll 100% cuddle you and hold you

Dates in parks or restaurants  

Get you flowers at least once a month

Will always defend you against others 

One of his love languages is acts of service

Lorenzo Berkshire:

You either were friends before dating or he fell in love with you at first sight, there is no in between

Takes you on fun dates (arcade, funfair, theme parks) 

Can be shy at the beginning, which will make it a bit hard for him to talk about how he feels about you

Movie nights where you two eats lots of snacks and sweets while cuddling 

Always smiles when you enter a room

So supportive 

Loves when you're on his lap

He has no problem with PDA

Quickly willing to meet your family if you agree

He’s a great listener and mostly gives good advices 

Loves taking naps with you 

Always makes you sure you get enough sleep, water and food

Won’t let you get yourself into dangerous situations

Loves to go anywhere with you, no matter the activity and even if he just follows you around 

Many pet names

If you're Muggleborn or grew up among Muggles, he will totally ask you questions about the muggle world

Passionnate sex, will get rough if he hasn't seen you in a long time or if it's angry sex after he got jealous

His aftercare is the best, and he's always thankful you trust him enough to have that form of intimacy with him

Draco Malfoy:

Won’t flirt at first with you but keeps wanting your attention

Tries to seduce you with expensive gifts, and is a bit taken aback when you say it doesn’t work

Continues to get you gifts, but will make sure they match your interests/tastes, and keeps expensive gifts for your birthdays and Christmas (even though he’d like to get them all year for you) 

At first he doesn't show any weakness in your presence

With you he’ll learn patience and to focus of more positive things, and also to stand up to his father

Takes you on dates every chance he gets

Will ditch his friends to spend time with you

Probably makes Crabbe and Goyle carry your bags or do things for you

So proud to be dating you, it might even make him more arrogant

Gets grumpy when jealous but after a kiss on the cheek he’s back to his normal self 

Will invite you to his home and write you nearly every day during holidays

Hates it when Harry or any Gryffindor boy tries to talk to you

Surprisingly has no problem with PDA

Loves when you come to see him play during Quidditch matches

Tom Riddle:

Oh boy

It started with him admiring/watching you from afar, for a reason he can’t understand

SUPER confused by what he feels for you and why

Will probably try to get closer to you through homework or through books if he sees you read one

Will know everything about you, and will secretly follow you, saving you if you’re in danger with you never knowing who saved you

Crazy about your perfume, so much so that it makes him steal one of your clothes just to be able to smell it anytime he wants

After a while, he’ll spend most of his time with you without ever admitting he likes it

Will probably let you know his feelings for you after he cast a spell on a guy for being a creep with you 

Won’t let another man touch you

Will ask Mattheo for advice to be better or to make you fall in love with him

Will do your homework without hesitation, even if he pretends that he hates it, and will leave explanations so you understand his answers/his work

No PDA except for holding hands or your hand under his arm, but will make sure to stay close to you at all times 

Is a surprisingly good listener 

VERY jealous, but surprisingly isn’t mad or suspicious at you

“Did you enjoy having his attention? Do you wish for me to show you how my attention is better?” 

He doesn't stress over homework or stuff like that, so he finds it ridiculous when you do (learns with time to be more understanding)

Will let flowers in your room with a note on it

Pretends to not care about the gifts you get him for his birthday or Christmas but it actually means so much to him as no one ever got him any gifts before 

Nothing the others say about him gets to him, but he gets angry when he hears someone say that you deserve better than him

As book!Tom who grew up in an orphanage: he's secretly insecure about his background and the fact that he’s poor, and thinks you deserve better 

As Voldemort: Might be torn between continuing his goals for power or spending a simple life with you; is aware you’ll leave him if he gets on a darker path 

As Voldemort’s son: would do everything to protect you from his father, and if he’s forced to get the Dark Mark, he will makes sure you don’t know 

Possessive kisses 

Would hurt anyone who does you wrong

Borrows money from Draco to take you on dates or to get you gifts, as he feels like you deserve the nicest things, even though you keep telling him his mere presence is enough

May feel a little bit guilty that he can’t properly show you his love like “normal” boyfriends do 

Won’t admit it but considers you the only good thing in his life, and if he ever lost you he’d get on a dark path

Won’t cuddle at first, but if you wake up first you’ll find him sleeping close to you, with at least one of his hands touching you

Always notices when you don’t eat, sleep or drink enough

You’re the first (and only) person he will feel romantic love for

He has a bit of sexual experience before, but with you it's completely different - once you guys have sex for the first time, he becomes obsessed with your body and how it makes him feel

Loves fingering you

"You like it, dove?"

Even if you guys don’t work out, he won’t ever be with somebody else 

Would ask your parents for you hand in marriage, but honestly it's just out of politeness, the only answer that matters to him is yours

Regulus Black:

Like Blaise, he was raised the old fashioned way

Acts coldly towards everyone except you, his tone and eyes gets warmer and kinder when talking/looking at you, and you’re the only person he’ll smile at

You were his best (and only) friend and he has been in love with you for years

He hides his feelings very well, but one day you start dating someone else (thinking Regulus doesn’t share your feelings) but he can’t bear it and confesses his feelings

Always defends you

He’ll take you on restaurants or picnics dates, always bringing flowers

Mostly fine with PDA (holding hands, hands on your waist)

Thinks he’s very lucky to have you

Probably already starts thinking of marrying you during your last year at Hogwarts 

A bit jealous, but can’t stand it when Sirius tries to talk to you

Will gladly do your homework with/for you

Loves it when you sleep in each other’s arms, loves feeling you close

Loves it when you call him “Reggie” (only you is allowed to)

Will literally do everything you ask him to

You’re everything to him

Can’t stay away from you for long

Will get worried if you’re five minutes late

Always calls you “sweetheart” or “love”/”my love” 

Slow, romantic sex most of the time but sometimes he needs to be rougher

Thanks to you he’ll feel lighter and he will become kinder

You’ll even make him change his views on blood purity and stand up to his parents, and with time he gets closer to Sirius thanks to that (and you) 

If that doesn’t change and he still joins Voldemort, he’ll leave you a letter before going to the cavern, saying how much he loves you and how much you mean to him

Harry Potter:

Don’t expect any pet names from him, but he might create a nickname with your name (like he calls Ginny ‘Gin’ in the Cursed Child) 

His love languages are fierce protectiveness, loyalty and a patience he didn’t knew he had

Has no problem with PDA because he doesn’t care about what other people think  

Loves cuddles

Rarely gets mad at you, and feels guilty when he does

Mostly gets mad at you when you hurt yourself (for example during Quidditch) but it's also because he was scared for you

Hot kisses in private

Will be jealous if he sees you with another guy 

He’s passionate in a lot of things he does, and it includes you and everything you do

Will fiercely defend you again anyone, can even throw hands

Gets FURIOUS when Umbridge hurts you during detention, and will cuddle you for hours and do everything he can to make the pain disappear

Knows people are mean to you during fifth year because you're dating him and he hates it

During that year the only peace he feels is when he's holding you or when you sleep in his arms (it's also the only time he doesn't get nightmares)

Very supportive 

Loves getting you gifts 

You make him feel SO happy, he’ll just keep smiling for no reason 

Gets more and more clingy with time

Always write to you during the holidays (you always invite him to come to your house)

I'm not sure about sex while you guys are at Hogwarts but he 100% feels lust for you, there will definitely be hot making sessions when you guys are alone in a dark corner of the castle and it often ends up with you against the wall with your legs around his waist while he kisses your neck and caresses your legs

However sometimes he just can't stop himself and will eat you out (even maybe finger you at the same time), and will be proud when you come

Any act of service you do for him means a lot

You're always worried about him when he's at the Dursleys but he reassures you that he's fine

Comes to you in the middle of the night if he has a nightmare and generally comes to you for comfort or to rant 

Needs you more than ever after Voldemort comes back and after Sirius’ death 

Misses you like crazy during his quest for Horcruxes, and he can’t bear the thought of something happening to you 

Might struggle to show it, but he knows and is thankful of how patient and comprehensive you are with him, and that makes him want to be the best boyfriend he can be

Terrified Voldemort might hurt/kill you

Want to be tagged? Just use my Ask-Box and I'll gladly add you!

Masterlist

Next projects

[sheeezu]

My shifting guidebook.

This is my last post, as melodramatic as I was in my last post, since both the posts I've made on here and reddit i got busy with responding to dms (for those confused check my first post) so i didn't permashift.

Unfortunately i still couldn't respond to all the messages and questions sent to my inbox and dms, mainly because of the different time zones and general laziness from my side.

I appreciate everyone who asked questions, although i felt it's a bit unfair since the answers to very common problems didn't reach everyone, and i want everyone to shift, i want everyone to shift tonight, so i decided i'll make a post to share all my knowledge, whatever i know, sort of like a parting gift.

And this isn't going to be a beginners guide, mainly for people who need a final push, and most importantly, for emergency shifters.

Onto the questions (: Divided into categories, skip through according to your needs :)

Detachment from CR, attachment to DR:

How can i detach from my CR/attach to my DR?

Generally, detachment can be achieved by numbing your emotions in your CR. But first, I would advise you to refrain from extreme and unhealthy detachment, because you'll end up getting stuck in a endless cycle of messing up your CR and not shifting (because you'd have no control over yourself, which would lead to your subconscious getting grounded in the messed up version of your CR; assuming that unhealthy detachment is daydreaming about your DR all day without any sense of where you are, without a strong mindset, when you eventually snap back you'll think even more vividly of your CR)

But- "unhealthy" attachment can be utilised to your advantage, to shift, in a controlled manner.

Pick a day to shift, let it be a weekend. After dusk, only indulge yourself in your DR. (When you're sure you have free time and you won't be disturbed) for me, I hid under the blanket, with a fully charged phone, I spent a portion of the hours listening to subliminals, and a portion of the time scrolling through pinterest with spotify in the background (things that remind you of your DR)

I recommend listening to detachment from CR and attachment to DR subs, and if you are a permashifter, and it's your deadline, go all out.

This is my advice for detachment from CR during the day, during the method it'll be different.

How can I detach from my CR while I'm shifting? I can't divert my attention away from my CR body/mind.

I'm writing in the pov of my own method.

The only way you can let go of the CR while you're shifting is with a calm mind. If you're overthinking about how you're going to carry out your method, whether you'd wake back in your CR, you'll have trouble reaching a detached state.

To detach, first of all, make yourself comfortable, do not try to force yourself into doing something, or laying in a position which makes you uncomfortable. Next, think of thoughts which pushes your CR to the side, your CR is just another reality, and you're the creator of it, treat it like its any other pebble on the road.

Affs: (again, void reality meaning your CR)

"Void reality? Huh, can't seem to remember what that is..."

"It's so peaceful not being in the void reality, going to fix it when I eventually return from my DR" (I vividly remember saying this, if you're a permashifter, make it so it fits your situation)

"..."

(Not saying anything says a lot, fall numb to your void reality and go onto your DR)

Remember, you're not answerable to your CR, its not your boss or captor, it's actually the opposite.

To attach to your DR during the method, in the middle phase of my method, say identity affs until you feel familiarise with your DR self, think of memories, have a small conversation with your DR loved ones, do a small rewind of your DR life in your mind, so you can ground yourself. I won't be going into much details on how to shift by becoming your DR self, my first post says it all.

How to detach from CR body?

Detaching your thoughts is basically detaching your CR body, the 30 second black out state is basically a window to shifting, because when your CR shuts up for a even just a few seconds it will give you the opportunity to divert your attention to your DR, no matter how fidgety you are.

Problems faced while shifting:

Something always itches me when I try to shift, any advice?

Before you're shifting, take a look at you're environmental factors, why are you feeling itchy in the first place?

If it isn't bugs, dry skin, I recall that during the method some symptoms are just itchiness.

Say affs to block off your senses first of all, until then try to control yourself

Affs:

"I have stopped sensing my void reality (CR)"

"I have stopped hearing, feeling, seeing my void reality"

If the need gets overwhelming and you're just starting your method, make yourself comfortable and move a bit, or just itch it, you can still shift.

I always fall asleep when I try to shift, what should I do?

During the day you're going to shift, and you know you're just tired and lack sleep, take a nap during the day.

If you didn't nap, or just generally feel sleepy still, turn my method into a sleep method, by letting yourself fall asleep while you're actively acting, thinking like your DR self (you'll wake up in your DR the next day)

Sleeping is a good tool for shifting, especially if you're starting to doze off while doing your method, you can achieve other states such as sleep paralysis, lucid dreaming or mind awake body asleep state, so don't get discouraged, if you prefer awake methods, there are some subliminals you can use to stay awake.

I always fear or dread shifting while doing my method and back out at the last minute.

(Copypasted from reddit)

Familiarise yourself with your DR, it's not scary if you know where you're laying, who you are, what's next to you and who's going to be in the room.

If you already start acting like your DR self then in theory fear shouldn't be here (why would you be scared being yourself in an environment which is supposed to be familiar to you?)

It also depends upon the kind of fear

Fear of spirits snatching your soul mid shift - listen to safety and protection subliminals (no, I wasn't personally possessed by demons last minute but it will put your mind at ease)

Fear of the unknown - familiarise yourself with your DR and shifting

Fear of symptoms - don't focus on them

Just know that nothing fearful will exist as long as you don't allow it to exist, you're the creator of your reality.

Trouble focusing while shifting.

Once you're even a tad bit detached from your CR, you would have no trouble focusing, because it's only your CR body's mind which is causing you trouble, the semi-void state in my method (when you don't feel your body that much, you force yourself to not have thoughts) is all you need to do to go onto the next phase of your method, and trust me, it'll feel very easy for you.

Prior to shifting, listen to frequencies, subliminals, basically flood your subconscious with your desired affs (calm mind subs, focus subs, general shifting and void state subliminals) when you're shifting, stare at the blackness and think of it as a milky way, like you're stargazing, I don't know why but your hyperfixation allows you to focus; count to a hundred, visualise your DR memories, youll eventually reach a trance state where you're focused and ready to shift. (if you can't visualise, then think of it in the form of a story)

Misc:

For folks with ADHD:

(Copy pasted from reddit)

I'd recommend try listening to subliminal (especially bundles) when you aren't feeling like doing anything or if you think your messing up.

Also try to keep yourself as comfortable as possible, if you can distract yourself in a way you aren't attached to your CR activities, for example watching movies or shows or youtube video which require minimal effort and attention

And im saying this only if you're utilizing a single day for shifting, or practicing LOA

while doing the method, i'd try to use as less time as possible, and if you feel off, then you can open your eyes and try the method after a small break.

Can I shift to-

Yes, yes, yes. You can shift to anywhere your mind can think up of, it really is that simple. You can shift to the past, shift to prevent a certain event, you can shift to a reality with a confusing concept, you can shift to become a chair.

Did you shift to a animated DR? How was it like?

I shifted to a pokemon DR where I studied pokemons for a living, but I quickly shifted back after 2 days because I got bored.

Personally for me I get creeped out of anything that's eerie or out of the ordinary.

So basically I scripted that it'll feel normal and I wouldn't even question it.

So I didn't, and now that I think about it, everything was proper, people had noses it wad 3D and everything, so just this reality except everyone looked unnaturally good and the world's graphic were different. If the entire world looks the same then nothing feels weird.

Your opinion on clones/time period?

I don't really care about clones or what they are, mainly because I believe in the consciousness theory, and the multiverse theory is a subdivision of consciousness theory, you basically let yourself believe there is a multiverse and for that reason it exists.

So in perceptive of the multiverse theory, your "clone" is just a body, which comes under your command or control.

It can't mess up your CR life, it'll make the same choices as you like you would have made if you were present in your CR.

Personally I had scripted that when I shift back I will wake up the next morning, following the night when I was shifting.

So my "clone" was just sleeping.

Secondly, stop stressing over your clone,

It'll just do what you want it to do, or just live life how you'd normally would

If you script your clone is a superhuman for the time you're in you DR, you'll shift back to a parallel reality of your CR where a superhuman lived your life for a while, but if you want you can just shift to a better CR like I did.

...

Those are all questions that came in my mind, I tried looking back into the chats and inbox to find more commonly asked questions or something I didn't clarify in my first post but most other questions had straight forward or a clear enough answer.

I really wanted to expand this post with more sections and questions, but in my opinion my first and this post combined are a lot of their own, I think I clarified a lot.

It's been a week being on Tumblr, and I loved helping people out, everyone was kind and unique in their own ways, I looked through my followers scripts and blogs and I enjoyed everyone's dedication to shifting, and their DRs (btw, I hadn't expected to get so many follows and notes, I'm genuinely suprised even now)

It had been a lovely experience being on shiftblr, in my opinion it's the best shifting, or just generally the best community on the internet.

As much as I would like to stay and blog regularly on here, I have to go back home, I'm permashifting in (from the time this post went up) 7 hours, and this time I'm not staying, so refrain from asking me questions after that, I won't respond, but this post will still be up.

Farewell, I hope your shifting journey conclude today and each of you live happily in your DR, with your well deserved love, respect and peace.

Goodbye c:

(Within the 7 hours, I may be partially active, if there is any question that is truly different and a genuine struggle for you, inbox me, I'll try my best to answer; I may as well post my DR script in my last few hours, since some people asked, remind me if I forget; also not posting on reddit, ive already annoyed the mods so much by breaking several rules)

[clitorphosis]

DOLL PARTS

Death Island Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON SEX, SMUT, female reader, age gap, abusive relationship, guilt tripping, Stockholm syndrome, dumbification ig, rough sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, choking, creampie, finger sucking, bruises, implied physical violence, internal conflict, teasing, guilt, implied obsessive behavior(Leon) i think, dirty talk, pet names, degradation.

Summary: There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is close to lose after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. For him, to kidnap you is to save that part. Cause life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Of course you don't understand.

notes: this is a mess I fear, but I had a blast writing this tho so idc LOL!!! Also thanks @writingwisterias for letting me bother you with my rambling and my indecisiveness with kidnapper leon（╹◡╹）I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

Clocks are ticking, not only in real time but in his mind - a disturbing reminder of how at his age Leon wasn’t even able to settle down. Tick - tock. Of course, men can always find a young woman, and two or three times of unprotected sex would be enough to impregnate one. Still, Leon doesn’t believe that applies to him - alcohol is not only a boner killer but also of fertility. Neither does he crave babies, he can be considered a dad to Sherry, also they would only show how time flies. She is enough of a reminder, no need for more.

He found you on the dating app - Sherry suggested he try, as a joke, probably not expecting him to follow the advice.

For him, you looked like a doll. Almost a godsend. Pretty, young, and easy to manhandle. Almost drooled at the prospect of having your legs wrapped around his waist. He should feel guilty or disgusted at the idea to fuck you… at the images of the material of your panties clinging to your hips, wrinkling up with every movement before his fingers would curl under it to tug them down. Right? No-no, he is only 38 years old - at his age men are already bald, Leon is having an easy time here. He has a chance, always had.

While he was unsure what to do, was a simple ‘hello, how are you’ enough for you? Or would it be too simple? Or repulsive? Why is he even worried about that, you probably matched him on accident.

You texted him first, something he didn’t expect from a young woman - even women of his age don’t text him first, they are dry and uninterested. Like sex with them.

“hiii ^^” This forces a smile out of him. Again, three dots appear. “You didn’t swipe me as a mistake, right?:3”

He hesitates, his thumb floats on the digital keyboard for a moment. No, it wasn’t a mistake, still, he needs to gratify his ego. “If it was, would it get you sad?”

“yep, actually, very big big sad!”

That was it. Easy and quick to get closer to you. He expected more obstacles, maybe times changed indeed or you are into older guys. All he needed to do was to open his wallet, be nice enough, and show how a ‘real man’ should treat a woman.

Leon knows a lot about you. He knows too much information - where you live, your college, and where you work. Not in a creep-like way, no-no. You were the one asking him to drive you there. Maybe your youth is the only problem to blame on - you were a chatting box endlessly and easily sharing anything with him, maybe things you should not have to. Somewhat, this only attached him to you.

There are always some subtle hints and hidden alarms, no one usually gives a shit about. Also, understandable, to ask anyone who knows him - hard to find someone with a bad opinion of Leon.

“He is okay”

“A hero. Not everyone is capable of saving the president’s daughter” or a simple shrug.

Outside his work, Leon is… just a guy most of the time. Yes, of course, not the luckiest one with the ladies, but it is unlikely someone would describe him as the type to kidnap a girl. No one understands how middle age crisis is going to be hard to handle, he is pushing 40, surely enough it is already waiting for him at the edge of the doorstep - and Leon had enough of bullshit in his life, a pretty and young woman is the panacea for this. The godsend pill to erase his problems.

And finally.

Finally, the tremendous loneliness will disappear, leaving it behind him like a bad dream. The feeling that everybody in the world is doing something without Leon. He can’t stand this ever-consuming loneliness to spread anymore, today IS the day.

He can let himself be selfish just once. Right?

To reach his goal, there is a small step though, a sacrifice to make. That’s why he set a date, in a good and expensive restaurant too.

And today is the day. This shouldn’t be forgotten. The biggest day. The most important one. No, doesn’t do the justice. The absolutely, positively biggest day, may be the right choice of words for Leon.

On the spot already, waiting for you. This time he isn’t late. That bad habit since 1998, but for once he didn’t struggle with his punctuality - too petulant about what will happen, checking clocks every second. Almost like a goddamn teenager, shifting the weight from one foot to the other on the spot. Nothing can go wrong, he tries to calm himself, there are so many ways to cover your disappearance. Perks of the job.

He didn’t notice how you arrived here too until your perfume brought him to senses. Your face is soft, your eyelashes flutter and you are so untainted. Your younger frame reminds him of himself your age. 21 years old, 1998. When he was at your age he had already witnessed horrors, you don’t realize they still exist. Leon shakes his head, that memory never brings anything good, but today his mood is not ruined and the memory has only strengthened the urge to keep you close.

Leon needs you, untouched by horrors and he knows much better how life can be terrifying.

“You ready?” He flashes a smile, his mood is more upturned than it has ever been - you can’t help yourself, a grin spread across your face too. It is infectious.

“Mmm, I am” you nod, curling your hand around his elbow, to keep yourself closer to him. And he is ready too, god, he has never been so fucking ready in his life.

“Not late this time,” His heart clenches at your words, and he looks into your eyes with a cocked eyebrow - awaiting whatever you came up with. “not like you at all, should I expect a surprise?”

“Maybe, maybe not” He brushes off with a shrug, a smile is still on his lips as you get closer to the car, but he can feel your excitement.

“A ring maybe?” You giggle. He opens the car door for you to get in, you don’t want to let go of his arm.

“A ring? Already?” He says and shakes his head. No, not a ring, but a different surprise. He kisses your lips in a chaste way, hoping you will not try to harp on this topic. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart, wait for it”

…

After dinner was different. A drop of temperatures and an easy flow of the air, dull lights of the street lamp illuminating your figures, inhaling the air in your lungs for the last time. The street is empty; no drivers, no smell of cigarettes, just you and him. And… silence fell upon you both.

Until his hand presses a tissue around your nose. It is suffocating; your nails dig into the arm, trying to worm out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, easy there” His voice brushes against your ear, soothing and intimate. The one he used when he fucked you. “Don’t make it worse for yourself...”

The warm body pressed against your back and kept you close until your body became pliant in Leon’s embrace on the silent night.

Tied up and unconscious. He is considerate enough to not let you experience the narrow space of the car trunk. With heaviness in his chest and like a scaredy cat, driving to his apartment - guilt shifts to euphoria in no time. You wanted this, no? Why would you stay with him after all? It doesn’t matter anymore. He was successful, finally. It worked. Today is his luckiest day, it should be highlighted on the calendar.

While this is the uncomfortable memory of your last date.

…

Every time you are alone, there are little things to do - you could have done some projects for college, maybe talk to friends and go to clubs. To catch a pretty guy, to have sex in the bathroom of the said club. Or fall in love with a guy of your age. It fills you with love and excitement like your hypothetical phone is going to ring as if you aren’t forced to be in Leon’s apartment.

Leon says you are a doll. Not those plastic bimbo dolls you see on social media with plastic acrylics that are longer than their eyelashes. Those reeks of cheapness by trying to be expensive, Leon has explained the difference to you. You are not Barbie or Bratz, those are ones you’d probably played with in your childhood, for Leon, you are another kind of a doll.

He is the one controlling you, making those dumb rules you’ve never memorized and you aren’t really going to. His grip around you is tight and your skin blooms with darker colors after playing with you.

Pretty, that word lives rent-free in his mind, almost becoming the most used of his. Favorite word. Your presence urges him to dress you up. A glance into the closet, most of it contains dresses and other items he has bought you. To take care of you, Leon almost emptied his wallet entirely for you a lot after getting you. It excites him. Admiring outfits he put you in and the same night, he is the one raising the fabric of your dress - two fingers or a dick inside you are enough to make you busy with moans and squirm.

He loves it, oh, he adores it. And your pussy is the best. It calms him, centers him - being someone’s center of the world is delightful, the only one time of the day in which he doesn’t feel insane. You make him feel sane, on the days when your mouth doesn’t run free.

From your point of view, he looks like he is trying to play house with you. In a wrong way. Playing house didn’t include tears or forced silence. Or forced participation. It should be fun, usually, it had been, at least in your childhood. Leon acts like this is normal like he didn’t just kidnap you during your date and force you to be here. He is still sweet, still spending his money on you (even though he doesn’t care about your preferences now), there is food on the table too. During the dinner, the silence is filled with stories from his work - names of people you don’t know. They don’t know you either, you aren’t the most famous captive girl on the planet after all. This is the bare minimum.

What’s more to ask for? Freedom, you are full of his shit actually, you would have preferred ignorance to be bliss cause his farce makes you feel insane. More unanswered questions flood your mind, they stick to your mind like a leech on the skin after a fresh swim on the summer day. You need to wash away this feeling, the only way is to question him. Right. First, you played nicely, still pitying him and holding him dear to your heart.

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” And a confused expression was his answer. He doesn’t even process what you said, just moves on. This didn’t work. Nothing fucking works here.

Now you prefer to poke those facts at him - like a harsh whiplash, a cold water against his face to bring him back to reality. You shouldn’t live like this alone.

Under your flesh there is a hidden hole filled with turbulent waters, almost tearing you apart - suffocating you with confusion. You wish hatred was the only reason to keep you sane, but the deep affection towards him still emerges like a bad dream. His tired eyes with loving and sweet nothing words come from his mouth, peppering your body and face with kisses when everything is right. The memories of nights with him flash in your mind: he is nice enough not to break you, while your body reacts in natural ways. You get wet, you feel pleasure, and his fingers know just the right spot to make your back arch.

This tears you apart, it confuses you too. Maybe there is something you don’t catch on, something missing. Conditioning? You aren’t a mindless idiot, nor a Pavlovian dog, but your body reacts like one. Maybe that’s a lie to reassure yourself. Still, you can’t drive yourself close to orgasm when he is not home. Your fingers aren’t enough anymore, almost with tears trying to get yourself off. To feel like your own person without him.

But something. Is. Always. Missing. You are incomplete.

…

It is already late, really late. Leon is a busy man, at least his job seems to be really important - so important, that he has always refused to tell you, avoiding the topic like the plague and switching to that honeyed tone, talking to you like a dumb puppy. Maybe it is some government shit job, something dirty - suitable for him.

But when he is late, many hopeful scenarios emerge, the most common is his car crushing to death. Good girls get gifts, their wishes get accomplished also, and they end up in heaven too - Leon told you that and to him, you are a good girl. Corny shit. Could he be right though? What if your wish was heard finally? Then remained trouble in your life would be to get out.

And the same dreams are crushed every time the sound of the car engine goes off, the jiggle of keys reaches your ears. You know it too well, you can recognize these little details and they fill you with dread. The sound of his steps, they are so different from others. The sound of his car doesn’t sound like those outside his house. Maybe you are insane, but everything he does is so recognizable it makes you sick.

And Leon is back.

His face is the only one you see, even in your dreams. There is nothing changeable in it. Light stubble, but still him. Shaved and it is still him. Different cologne. And still him. Leon sickens you, this little play often pushes your buttons, urging you to break this act and get yourself into trouble. Maybe the remains of hope are to blame, maybe Leon would change his mind and stop this.

He plops down on the couch, drawing your attention to him - impossible to ignore, if you did, you wouldn’t stop hearing the end of his complaints. His black shirt strains across his muscular body, the fabric is not shy to outline his big chest. Black suits him, but Leon looks good in everything forcing more dread stir in your chest.

“Finally, home” Leon sighs, his hand creeping up to pull you into his lap, acting unbothered. Your legs straddle his hips, facing him. Don’t forget, you are captive. And this is the part of the routine. He is going to watch those old movies from his childhood, or work silently(maybe he will nudge his cock inside you, to keep himself warm) and then he will fuck you. A tearful routine.

“…yay..!” You try to smile, forcing it to please him. Ignoring conflicting feelings in your body, anticipation to feel his dick mixed with dread. A yearning for change. Leon kisses your forehead.

His blue eyes feel heavy on your face, making you feel so little. “I missed you” Leon cooed with a honeyed tone, pulling you even closer. That light smell of beer coming from him forces your skin to crawl. His fingers pinch your cheek, tugging it briefly too. “My doll felt lonely today, right? Without me?”

Again, that mocking sweetness. The one you’d use for puppies. You nod with a hum “Mmm”

“I had a bad bad day today, those reports dried my eyes, god” he groans, his head tipped back, rubbing his eyes as to emphasize his words. But still gripping your waist. You don’t have the mood to be nice to him, his smile and relaxed expression stir dread and hate towards him. And yourself.

“You look like you had a bad day and not me” Leon comments, raising an eyebrow before his thumb tugs on the corner of your lips - smile. You had a bad day forever, your day can’t be compared to whatever he had today. His voice is sweet, but condescending, like he knows what is better for you. Leon doesn’t know shit.

“I don’t think you have reasons to be upset, huh? Your life is easy, baby” He snaps his fingers. Like an order. “pretty smile for me, no one likes grumpy girls”

“You are fucking sick… you know that?” Words spill out quickly and mindlessly, ignoring his distorted expression - you just want him to be in pain. Like you are. There is a hint of fear in your voice, subconsciously aware of what is going to happen after your words. “… you KIDNAPPED ME and you want me to play along with this act?…” A bittersweet pause. Adrenaline rushes through your blood, like after a good shot of vodka. “That’s fucking smart… asshole”

A hard swallow, trying to ignore the growing lump in your throat. Anxiety. This time, your voice is much quieter, you feel so small. Involuntarily shrinking away to shield yourself from what is coming. “I hate you”

There is an uncomfortable silence and his face is not blurry anymore - it is the only thing you can see right now. There is no slap, which is worse, silence is much scarier than a reaction cause you need to know what is going on in his head. You should have stayed silent instead, maybe Leon was right - you can’t stop but back talk and try to get yourself into trouble. You got yourself into this, not him.

Maybe an apology… wouldn’t it be late? Would it save? God, you MESSED this up. There is no way back.

His eyebrows furrowed, looking down at you with a clear discontent painting on his face, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks - uncomfortably keeping you still. This time being pretty and batting your eyelashes like a dumb doll is not going to save you.

“You are so spoiled. No one likes ungrateful bitches like you” Leon shakes his head, not giving a space to you to talk back again. “I buy you pretty things, I spend my time and money on you… and you repay me like that?”

He tilts your head, the grip is bruising, almost. Leon doesn’t give you flowers, but bruises look like them quite enough. His words hit you like a slap, making you feel like there is something tremendously wrong with you, not with him.

“Is it so hard to play nice and stay pretty for me?” He adds with a raised eyebrow. His thumb caresses your lower lip, playing and tugging it down, before pushing the digit past your soft and tender lips.

“And quiet.” He tsked, feeling warm saliva clinging to his thumb as it pressed down onto your tongue. Lucky for Leon, one of his wishes is accomplished - you can’t really talk, only muffled words, while your mouth is occupied with his digit. He keeps the grip on your jaw, before replacing it with two fingers. Pointer and middle finger. You are so pretty when you keep your mouth shut or around his fingers. Or dick. The latter is much preferable.

Your mouth is always warm, inviting, and wet. Hard to hide how such act affects you, your breathing catches in your chest, as his fingers keep rubbing the front of your tongue - messy and slick, not wetter than your cunt right now. Your mouth can not be compared to your pussy though, it has much more pros than disadvantages, the only con is the lack of wetness sometimes. Not something unfixable at the end of the day, a spit or lube (if he is in a good mood) can fix anything.

Your eyes are closed, feeling his other hand keeping your head pointed up where he can see you. To be honest, you don’t really know if you are just trying to illude yourself and hide from the truth - both options are useless, they bring you back to him. Every time his fingers are in your mouth, keeping you quiet and forcing you to suck on them - your pussy gets wet quickly like it is connected to your throat. His fingers delve deeper, moving in and out slowly. You can’t help yourself. Your clit throbs uncomfortably, urging you to do something about this, and your inner walls flutter around nothing - your mind reminds you of how good his dick feels. You probably look so pitiful to him, your eyes reflect well what your body begs for while drooling around his fingers.

Your thighs try to snap close, to rub them together and get that sweet-sweet stimulation, but they end up straddling his hips tighter - feeling the outline of his hard cock press against the damp and thin material of your underwear. It isn’t a big obstacle right now, the burning heat can be felt easily. A choked whine escapes from your mouth, realizing that his pants are still on him.

“Uh-huh, you want my attention?” Leon asks, not trying to be subtle with his tone, laced with mocking sweetness. His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, leaving a trail of droll connecting you both. It is so empty without him filling your senses. His eyebrows curl up, glaring down on you like at kicked puppy. He mocks you, another squirming heat crawls in your cunt. Embarrassingly wet, dripping, and staining his jeans with your slick. God, you ARE getting off when he is being patronizing with you. “You ruined my day, baby. Do you really think you deserve anything right now?”

Your mind is screaming at you to do something, you need that relief. His cock. Anything that will fill the emptiness inside you with pleasure. You shiver when his fingers brush across the hem of your underwear, clearly amused by how wet you are. They push aside the fabric, already wet by your saliva - slowly stroking your drenching folds. So warm and puffy, even the light touch of his fingers on your clit makes your body jolt like you are in pain.

“Leon…” Your voice sounds cloying, it goes straight to his hard dick, as you look under your eyelashes at his face - it makes you feel dumb. Any sentences or words are thrown away into the bin under his glare, he doesn’t even try hard to make you feel like that, there is no need cause you are dumb. And you ache for his cock, ignoring alarms in your head. You are just a dumb, aching doll.

And his. He told you that.

“What?” Leon pressed, already withdrew his fingers from your cunt, wanting to see you more desperate. Your hips try to grind against his hard cock, to get a light stimulation. You stay silent, words aren’t enough to formulate what swirls in your mind. Somewhat, his presence and words are always tied to that deep feeling of owing him something. What? Not clear, but it is still here, even if his cock empties your mind.

You are still his after the dramatics you pulled, right?

You swallow hard, the sight of his unmoving hand on the belt makes your cunt painfully ache, ignoring your mind screaming at you to hit him. You don’t deserve this, it whispers. The guilty part of your brain won a long time ago, it overwhelms that soothing reminder - canceling it completely - you need to hurry up him. You are at fault, it whispers. “…Please…” Forgive me, I need you.

You gasp as in rasp motion he changes your position, shoving you and you end up with your back pressed down flatly on the soft material of the couch, while Leon hovers over you. And he kisses your forehead, with the same tenderness and affection he has given you before - like a couple, married couple on honeymoon. Your mind misses the bullseye with this conclusion, but whatever helps, right? The spot burns hot, as a reminder that you have to please him.

Clink-clink! It snaps you out of your thoughts. The sound of his belt makes your skin crawl, and more slick pools in between your thighs like at the unvoiced command. You try to buck your hips up, only to end up restrained by his hand - it grips tightly your flesh, in a bruising hold, and the signs will bloom into another purplish collection in the morning. His hand pins your hips down, - silently denying the control over your pleasure. Couldn’t be even wetter at this point.

It isn’t really visible, but his breathless sigh signaled you that his hand is, probably, wrapped around his cock. You squirm, to prop yourself to look down and maybe get comfier - again, he pushes you down with a head shake.

Your legs shake when his cock presses up in between your drenching folds, the slick clings to the skin, and his cock head nudges against your aching clit. And this hits so good too, his hard cock slides across your cunt. You can’t help but let your hips buck up back, again - to get your own control on the pleasure. Tsk. Your attempt gets easily interrupted again, as his hand pushes your hips down. His cock gets harder after every slow and agonizing rut, the wet sounds of your slick pressing and smearing his cock is like music to his ears. No wonder it is so easy to get lost, thank god your attempts to worm out of his grip snap him out of that pleasure.

You are so impatient. But for Leon, sex is so much simpler, cause he is a simple man. With age many things change, they get uncomplicated. Of course, Leon likes good stuff; tasty good, keeping you pretty, watching how your tits bounce with every thrust and feeling your flesh under his hands, how you react to him. But the sex isn’t the lovemaking or a way to satisfy you, for him, it would be useless to keep you here then. There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is so close to lose touch with after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. Life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Every time he sees you so confused, depending on him - he can’t lie, it makes his cock jolt. He wants to see every little expression on your face, - desperation, affection, confusion, misery, everything - to etch the sight into his memory.

“Baby, you don’t know what’s good for you..” Leon says, there is no answer from you and he doesn’t really need one. His eyes are focused on his cock nudging your hole before slowly pressing in - now watching your spasming and drenching hole swallows his cock. And you gasp.

Without fingers, without any preparation, but wet as hell, you still feel tight as sin. It is easier to get through though. The velvet softness of your fluttering cunt is addicting as your walls clench around him in a vice grip with every inch pushed inside.

It is dizzying how your mind empties together with your body, any remains of conflict regarding this situation is gone. Focusing on how his cock stretches your walls, leaving you breathless and trembling at the slow-filling sensation in your cunt. Your hands creep to rest on his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

His cock pushes through, until its tip presses against your cervix - he is deep inside, his hips nestled right against your ass - and your pussy is so overwhelmingly full, for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

“That’s okay” Leon cooed again. His hand brushes across the skin of your collarbone, caressing it. Burns and you are hot, to the point his touch felt cold. You shiver, his hand is always pleasant to feel, but at the same, the feeling of it is accompanied by something else, you can’t ever catch it. It is brief but always gives you awareness.

Your chest rises up and down unsteadily, looking probably pathetic right now as his hips start moving. Already overwhelmed without a way out.

“Awww, you are just a dumb thing, not knowing anything better” Leon drawls with an amused smirk.

The pace is set, rhythmically rocking against you, using your cunt like a toy. You want to roll your own hips back, to do something but today isn’t your day. You already forgot about your earlier lash-out, as the only sounds reaching your ears are flesh-hitting ones mixed with your moans. His lips are parted on a soft stream of pants.

“N-no..” This attempt of protest slips out easily from your mouth, without giving too much thought into what may happen. Your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders. His hand creeps higher, to rest on your neck in a loose grip, a silent warning perhaps. Pretty faces don’t need to do anything other than being pretty, but tonight you let your mouth slip out too often.

The hand on your hip pushes it down again, the grip hurts actually. Feels like there are already bruises forming and he is clearly not pleased with you. He isn’t at all, your comments ruin his fun. They distract him from your tight pussy, how hot it is, and engulf him, begging him to thrust ruthlessly and fill you.

Unspoken rule, you should be silent and let him use your cunt without other noises than incoherent moans.

“Oh, no-no” Leon mocks you, a sharp, unexpected thrust, his cock head grinds against your cervix. To punctuate his words his grip on your throat tightens. Or you are imagining this? Another thrust, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hips start dragging his cock out of you, then he pushes it back deep inside. “I know what’s better for you.”

Every deep thrust into your spasming cunt, your thighs shake, and muscles in your body flex every time your hips connect. And his hand squeezes your throat, you can clearly feel the outlines of his fingers on the skin of your throat. God, is the grip getting tighter? Is he trying to cut the air? This fills your body with panic; it writhes even more, ignoring the painful grip on your hip and becoming more aware of the one that’s getting tighter around your neck.

Yeah, he is angry at you.

“Doll, you brought this… on yourself” Leon whispers breathlessly, watching your expression twist with a mix of pleasure and fear. Your hands travel from his shoulders to his wrist, nails dig into its flesh. “don’t resist”

His hand angles your hip better, losing the rhythm of the pace as his cock pounds into you in quick and deep thrusts. It hits your g-spot too, but the lack of air is the biggest of your worries right now. Your cunt flutters, getting tighter with the less air incoming, and more tingly wave of sensation rides over your body. The tips of your fingers feel weird, and your entire body starts to drown in numbness. It is weirdly pleasant but at the same time scary. Deep down you like it, not realizing it.

“Come on,” Leon grunts, his grip on your neck doesn’t lessen, and you try to focus on something else other than the possibility of passing out. Your walls clench around his dick tighter, and your mouth opens uselessly as a dumb fish trying to speak, but the only sound coming out is a muffled one.

“If you are so smart… fuck…” He moans, you feel so good, your walls clenched tight around his dragging cock and your body is so easily letting him use your pussy. He can get drunk on it. “…use your big mouth”

His grip tightens, and another choked moan tries to drawl out of your mouth. Nothing comes out other than a quiet, pathetic mewl. It feels like you are going to die.

“Use your filthy and smart mouth” He taunts again, the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. His hips thrust into you in rough and hard movements. It feels like just his presence is overfilling you. Maybe the lack of oxygen is to blame. “or you can only use it for my dick.. huh? Like a whore, not a doll”

“A…m, S-s” I am sorry. You try your best, but it is hard to do multitasking when your head is so lightheaded and his dick inside you feels so good. Your body feels numb like it doesn’t belong to you anymore, writhing and squirming every time his cockhead hit your cervix - a pang of tingling mixture, something so new and pleasurable, but at the same time foreign, with the hint of pain. But it is a delicious kind of hurt, toe-curling one.

You are going to pass out, trying to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth and your nails dig into the skin of his bicep - begging, unawarely your eyes sprinkle with tears. “S-..sor-r—” This is your best attempt.

Orgasm has always been different with him, it is warm, still keeping your turmoil. This time it is crushing, but feels shorter than it was actually. It hits your body unexpectedly, filling to the brim with the feeling of his cock spouting cum inside you, while every patch of your skin is numb and burning hot.

Confusing your mind more when his hand slipped away, so close to pass out and the quick rush of air fills your lungs almost choking you, overwhelming the pleasure of your own orgasm. You are so sensitive, at the brink of tears - not having any strength to keep them in, they easily well in your eyes, blurring even more the vision before rolling down. It doesn’t hit like it should cause you are too focused on the fading numbness and shaking while inhaling the air - unreasonably afraid(to Leon) that he is going to take it away again. Breathing feels much better than sex, right now at least.

He pulls out his dick, and his cum slowly oozes out of your hole, while you are still recovering. Not hiding where his gaze is directed. It is hypnotizing, urging him to shove it back into you with his fingers and keep his cum inside you for a little bit longer. You snap him out of this trance with your sobbing and incoherent words.

“I am so—sorry!” You sob, tugging onto the fabric of his black shirt to pull him closer to you. Seeking comfort in him, you don’t have any other options. He can’t deny this to you, his arm wraps around your shoulders. And even if you had other choices, still you would crawl back to Leon. “I was mistaken… I am so-so sorry. It was a mistake!”

God, you shake like a leaf right now. He huffs as if your words were the most obvious thing. Like the sky is blue or two plus two is four. It is hard to push you away, the trembling and teared-up mess. Leon enjoys that.

“There you are, baby. I got it” Leon sighs, the crease in between his eyebrows deepens. His hand brushes away your hair from your face, to get a better glance of your state. Mistake. Everything is a mistake here - your presence, getting off only of him, texting him first, and letting him take you on dates. Leon can’t help, but chuckle. “Of course. Indeed a mistake, doll”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner

note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!

He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"

He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly.  “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”

But, actually, you sort of did.  You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something.  And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.

You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it.  The two of you had never actually been alone before.

"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"

"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."

"We, um... I think we broke up?"

"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.

You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."

"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."

"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."

"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."

"No, but—"

"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.  

“Poor girl,” he breathed.  “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”

You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.

“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course.  He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”

“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle.  “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be.  And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb.  “You’re gorgeous.”

You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that.  “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”

“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was.  You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should.  “You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say.  He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it.  You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you.  Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.

His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted.  His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.  

Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s.  You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then.  It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way.  Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type.  But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.

You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder.  You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly.  “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”

You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that?  It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good.  Not enough.  You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.

“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck.  You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted.  His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.

“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”

He laughed a little.  “I can,” he admitted.  “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”

That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.

He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife.  You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut.  You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.

He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you.  This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening.  But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.

“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly.  You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him.  It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question.  Which, of course, you did.

He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.  

“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing.  “So needy, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive.  “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze.  “I… I need you.”

“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”

His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.

When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.  

"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."

You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...

"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."

He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."

"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"

"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.

"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"

He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.

The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair.  He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.

“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times.  Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you.  Were you that easy to solve?

Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you.  He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.

He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.

You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.

“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin.  “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”

As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.  

But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.

"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."

Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?

"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."

You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.

"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"

You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...

"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."

He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"

The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was.  It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.

You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things.  “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”

That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him.  As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.

“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled.  “Do it again.”

This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply.  It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…

Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.  Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap.  Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.

He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.

“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin.  “God, I need to be inside you…”

You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.  

You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”

Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.

You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was.  “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.

"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."

You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.

"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."

You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.

Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go.  “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this.  “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you?  You wanna go even faster.”

Now that he said it: yeah, you did.  You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.

His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response.  “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was.  “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart?  Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”

Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this.  He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.

“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now.  “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long.  We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”

Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.

“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly.  “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”

You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.

He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans.  “Good fucking girl,” he snarled.  “Good little slut.”

“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster.  “Fuck, I’m close—”

“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck.  “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart.  Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”

Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you.  It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.

When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.

“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl.  “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”

You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.

“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.

“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”

He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop.  You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you.  With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.  

You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that.  “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.

“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself.  “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”

[froggiewrites]

Midnight Guest

Pairing: Vampire!Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Your roommate is strange, you’ve always known that. Most of his habits seem like harmless eccentricities. His insistence that you lock your door when you sleep, due to his “sleepwalking,” confuses you more than anything. But when you forget one night and awaken to him standing over your bed, teeth bared, you start to think maybe there’s more to Law than meets the eye. Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Vampirism, Biting, Blood Drinking, Possessive/Obsessive Behavior, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 3.2k Halloween Special 2024

Your roommate was a strange man.

You had always known that, of course, from the moment you stepped foot into the house. It was old, built to be so beautiful and grand you could have confused it for a temple, a place of worship. And the rent he offered was far too good to be true. You couldn’t afford a studio for what he asked you to pay, let alone half of a gothic mansion to be shared with a mysterious and handsome man. There had to be something wrong with him, some reason he would give this offer to you of all people. He insisted it was just too big of a house to live in on his own, too lonely for one person. 

“I just…hate being alone,” he had admitted.

You didn’t believe that, not from someone as quiet as him.

You were extra sure he was strange when you had your first real conversation. He remained flat and reserved until you mentioned you had seen his comic collection, which made him light up like a Christmas tree. He told you about Sora, Warrior of the Sea for two hours after that, with a boyish enthusiasm you had never expected from a perpetually exhausted man covered in tattoos. It was cute, though he didn’t appreciate it when you pointed that out, cheeks growing pink and lips growing into what he would insist was not a pout. Yes, you had always known Law was strange, but in a fun way, the kind that brings more fond smiles than exasperation.

But some of his habits were starting to make you think he wasn’t quite as harmless as you had convinced yourself.

The first time you awoke with him standing over you, eyes flashing in the dark, you screamed. He had the nerve to jump back as well, as though you had scared him. Sleep walking, he had called it. You don’t know many people who sleepwalk with their eyes open and their teeth baring down on you. But he was so apologetic, you couldn’t help but let it slide.

“I’ve just been so tired from work lately,” he had admitted quietly, cheeks pink and voice tight with embarrassment. “That hasn’t happened since I was a kid. I’m sorry. I…don’t really know how to stop it, but I’ll try. Maybe I need to get more sleep.”

“I think you should,” you had agreed, dripping with good natured concern. “I don’t mean to be rude, but you look like you haven’t slept in years. I’ve been worried about you, honestly.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate it. Maybe I do need a bit more rest. But…maybe you should sleep with your door locked. Just in case I sleepwalk again. I wouldn’t want to give you such a rude awakening twice.” He had said something else, but frankly you were a little too focused on his hands flexing nervously, showing off his long, tattooed fingers, to catch whatever it was.

And since you had taken his advice, you hadn’t woken up to any more men lurking over your bed. You had, however, woken up to the jiggling of your door handle more than once. One time, you had even heard a knock echoing through the room, though he didn’t answer when you called out to ask him what he wanted.

You also couldn’t help but notice how empty the fridge and pantry were, or how little you saw him eat. He had a small snack here or there, but he seemed to subsist mostly on coffee and whatever he keeps in those tumblers he always has nearby. You had asked once, but he brushed it off, changing the subject not-so-subtly. You assumed they were protein shakes, or some other supplement he used to avoid having to sit down and enjoy a real meal. A lot of Law’s life seemed like he was actively trying to avoid living it. He had his hobbies and friends, of course, but any of the mundane pleasures of life, like eating, sleeping, or even human interaction outside of his chosen few people he avoided like the plague. He focused on his work, and anything else was either carefully penciled in or discarded entirely.

Every conversation you had about it was unproductive. He insisted he was fine, that this was just how he was, but there was always a tension around him, one you can’t help but think would disappear if he would only allow himself to live for once. But you can’t say that to him. How can you ask a man if he even enjoys being alive?

But tonight was the night you would learn your concerns were all for nothing, due only to a lack of information, and nothing more.

You try another conversation about your concerns when he wanders into the kitchen while you’re cleaning up. You know it won’t lead anywhere, but you have to try. “Do you think you’ve been sleeping better, Law?”

He hums noncommittally.

“...Have you actually been trying?”

“I’ve…had a lot to deal with.”

You frown, turning around to face him. “Has work not let up at all? You’ve been running yourself ragged for months.”

He avoids your eyes. “It’ll pass soon.”

“That’s what you said two months ago.” You reach across the counter for his hand, fingers brushing lightly against his, and he frantically pulls his hand back as though he’s been burned. You try not to show your hurt on your face, but from the guilt on his, you know you’ve failed. “I’m…I’m just worried about you. I feel like things have only gotten worse for you since I moved in. Maybe I should just–”

He jumps at that, quick to correct, to move you away from that train of thought as fast as he can. “No, no, that’s not true. And you shouldn’t do anything different. Having you around has been…this is the most alive the house has felt in years. I’m just tired, really.”

“You’re still sleepwalking.”

He tenses. “Am I?” Something about his tone is strange. He doesn’t seem like he’s surprised, or at least not surprised that he is. More surprised that you know.

“Yeah. You really didn’t start doing that until I moved in?”

“Well, no one would be able to tell me if I had.” He still isn’t looking at you.

You sigh. Even knowing how unproductive these talks are, it’s always a disappointment to learn he won’t open up to you. You honestly can’t figure out why he keeps you around. Your presence clearly stresses him out, even if he won’t admit it. “Just…try to get some rest, please. And eat a real meal for once. You’re a doctor, you should know how to take care of yourself.”

He finally looks at you again, self deprecation radiating from his tight smile. “Right. I’ll try.”

He won’t.

But you can. After you finish wiping down the counters, you get ready for a long night of sleep. No point in staying up worrying over things you can’t control. A long, warm shower and comfy pajamas are sure to fix your problems.

And they do, really, for the few hours you remain asleep.

But then you hear the door open.

No jiggling handle, no knocking, nothing. Just the quiet creak of the hinges, and footsteps approaching. You’ve barely opened your eyes before you can feel the bed start to shift, and you look up to see the same sight you did months ago: Law, eyes feral and needy, his mouth open, teeth looking particularly long and sharp in the moonlight. Before you can open your mouth, you can feel his body against yours, every inch of him stiff, his hands clutching your shoulders, his teeth growing closer and closer to your neck.

“Law?”

His eyes are still hazy, his mouth still approaching.

“Law!” You try to push his arms away, but you find you’re not strong enough to make him budge for even a moment. But the fear in your voice when you realize you’re about to feel his teeth against you makes him stop midair, his eyes focusing a little.

“Huh?” He looks down at you in his arms, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes, and he throws himself back with a speed and strength you didn’t know he had. You can hear him slam against the wall behind him, knocking all of your wall decorations askew and making the wall make a concerning creak. He stares at you, arms out, as though something is pinning him down, and he looks absolutely beautiful bathed in the moonlight that sneaks through your curtains. His eyes are hungry, and you can see his canines peeking out from his lips, almost looking like fangs. He’s naked except for a pair of gray sweatpants, hair mussed and tattoos on full display.

“Law?” He stares at you, still torn between hunger and fear. As you shift to sit up, you can see his eyes flicker between your neck and your breasts, your pajamas giving him a clear view of your cleavage. Normally you would be embarrassed, but the tension in the air makes you forget your vulnerability for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“You forgot to lock your door,” he murmurs, voice thick and deep. He hasn’t looked away from you for even a moment, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

“You were going to bite me.”

He licks his lips, something he often does around you. You had always thought it was a nervous habit, but combined with the look in his eyes, you’re starting to suspect perhaps there’s another reason. “I told you to keep your door locked.” It sounds like speaking takes effort, and you notice his hands trembling slightly.

“Why were you going to bite me?”

“I need to leave,” he says, not moving, staring intently at your exposed skin. He’s breathing heavily. His canines seem to have grown even longer. “Or maybe you should leave.”

“You’re…you haven’t been sleepwalking at all. You’ve been trying to get in every night. To bite me. With your teeth.”

“I…have.”

“Are you…” You can’t bring yourself to say the word, even with all of the evidence in front of you. It feels unreal, so ridiculous you feel as though you’re watching someone else live through it all.

“Yes.”

“And you’re hungry?”

His chest is heaving with the effort of holding himself back. “Very.”

“And you asked me to live with you anyway?”

He forces his eyes closed, pushing his head back against the wall. “It wasn’t very smart of me. I…I knew I couldn’t let you leave the moment you walked through that door. I needed you to stay. You don’t know what it’s like. …I thought I would have more self control than this, really.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“Why couldn’t you let me leave?” You hate that your voice has a tinge of hope in it, like you aren’t in terrible danger, like your silly little crush on your roommate is more important than the very real threat he poses.

“You’re…you. And god, I need you.” He huffs out another breath. “You need to leave, really. Before I lose control.”

That should not have sent a shiver of excitement up your spine. “What if I didn’t?”

“Then I’d bite you.”

“And what if I wanted that?”

His eyes shoot open, and before you know it you’re pinned to the bed, a starving animal holding you down, every muscle in his body taut. “You…you shouldn’t…” He struggles to even get the words out, to keep up his good guy act when you can see the hunger in his eyes.

You lean up, exposing your neck fully, and just smile.

You’re pierced in a second.

The sensation is colder than you expected, and for a moment it really and truly feels like you’re going to die. Like you’ve made some horrible mistake for a pretty face and you’re going to pay the price for it. But before long, the ice in your veins fades away, leaving behind a pleasant warmth. It almost feels like you’re drunk, as your eyelids droop and an easy smile comes to your face.

You can feel every inch of Law pressed into you, from his warm tongue against your neck to his solid chest against yours and, most importantly, his hard and aching cock rutting against your thigh as he drinks. He hardly takes any time away from your neck, but whenever he does he’s panting, practically moaning against you. One of his hands goes to your chest, palming clumsily at your breasts, which easily spill out of your flimsy top. He looks down to see them, and groans from deep within his chest. “God, look at you.”

You try to respond, but in an instant he’s against your neck again, suckling, while his hand finds your nipple and pinches it between his fingers. You moan, far louder than you would ever admit, and your hips rut up into his. You can feel a wetness soaking easily through your pajama shorts, which he finds as well as he rubs against you, forcing the fabric between your folds and rubbing it against your clit. Your nails find his hair, gripping for dear life, and you hear him moan again. You can’t see them, but you can practically feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head. You try to speak again, to tell him to please fuck you, to complete the pleasure of the moment, but the only thing that leaves your lips is a pathetic cry of, “Law!”

He pulls himself back from your neck, lips dripping with your blood, staring at you ravenously. You fear he might swallow you whole. You fear you might enjoy that. His hand comes up, fingers gathering the blood dripping from his lips and chin. He maintains eye contact as he slowly and deliberately licks his fingers clean, refusing to waste even a drop of you. You clench your thighs together, which once again rubs the fabric against your clit just right, making you moan softly. His pupils blow out even further at the sound, his eyes nothing but inky blackness and desire.

You aren’t sure if it’s the warmth in your veins or your desire for Law that leaves you so pliable, so vulnerable underneath him. Either way, you find your thighs falling apart and your arms wrapping around him, begging him to take you. You whisper to him, “Please, Law, please. Finish what you’ve started. Have me.”

He leans down to clean the rest of the blood off of your neck with his tongue. “I want you,” he groans. “I have since the moment I saw you. God, you’re so delicious.” You feel his teeth graze against you again, desperate for a second taste. “You taste even better than I imagined, better than I dreamed.”

“You dreamed about me?”

“Every goddamn night. You’ve been haunting me.” He nips at your neck gently. “I couldn’t let you leave, no matter how much better it would be for you. I’m sick.”

You thrust your hips against his again, making his eyelids flutter and a soft choked noise escape his throat. “I’ve wanted you just as long.”

“I’ve never lost control over myself like this. You’ve done something to me.” He says it almost like an accusation.

You wrap your thighs around his waist in response, forcing your hips together again. “You’ve done something to me, too. I’d like you to finish it, if you don’t mind.”

He growls against your skin, something feral finally unleashing from him, and in one smooth motion he’s ripped off your pajama pants and underwear, leaving you bare and dripping for him. He thrusts into you in one smooth motion, making you nearly scream as your eyes roll back from the sensation. His pace is frantic, like if he stops for even a moment you’ll change your mind, or he’ll come to his senses, and it will all be over.

“Need you,” he mutters. “Need you to stay. Say you’ll stay.” There’s some deeper thread of desperation here, his voice pleading, nearly afraid. Like after all of this you’ll see him for what he is and leave him all alone in this house again, to be forgotten by time and left to rot.

“I’ll stay,” you moan. “I won’t leave you, Law.”

His hand finds your clit, a reward for giving him what he needed. His hands are as skilled as you had always hoped they would be, callused and moving exactly how you want them to. He makes you clench around him, ready to come undone so quickly under his attention. “You’re so alive,” he whispers. “So beautiful. And mine.”

“Yours, yes, yours!”

“Forever,” he insists.

“Forever!”

With your promise, his thrusts quicken, growing sloppy as he loses what little control he had left. His fingers and hips work frantically, bringing you to the edge easily, causing you to tighten around him as your vision goes white. At the same time, his teeth come down on your neck again, and he spills inside of you, filling you to the brim as he freely takes what he wants.

You’re panting, your heart pounding out of your chest, your blood flowing freely into Law’s waiting lips. Once he’s had his fill, he licks you clean again, before raising his head to look you in the eyes. “Forever?” He asks again.

“Forever,” you confirm.

He smiles. You watch as he bites his bottom lip, his fangs easily piercing the soft flesh, and he kisses you deeply and desperately. The taste of iron fills your mouth, at first repulsive but quickly growing into something sweet and irresistible. You lean further into him, sucking on his lip, taking whatever you can get, only stopping when he pulls back, pinning you down so you can’t chase his lips.

“Forever,” he whispers, tone filled with wonder. He kisses you again, tenderly, almost worshiping. “And you won’t have to spend a moment of it alone.”

You’re starting to grow unbearably hot, but even as you squirm, Law doesn’t allow you to move. He holds you there, under him, cock still inside of you. “Law, it’s hot. I need–”

“I know. It’ll pass.” He grins, teeth flashing dangerously in the light.

“What?” The haziness from blood loss and whatever endorphins came from a vampire’s bite start to wear off, and you start to tense. “What’ll pass?”

He doesn’t give you a straight answer. “It won’t hurt much, I promise.”

“Law, what did you do?”

He smiles, nuzzling you affectionately. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know. You won’t have to try to figure it all out alone. It’ll be the two of us, figuring it all out together. And we’ll have forever to do it.” He kisses you again as the heat overtakes you, turning swiftly from discomfort to pain.

But you’ll be alright, of course. Law is right there to walk you through it.

And he will be forever.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl

[verstappenverse]

Between the Laps

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Driver!Reader Enemies to Friends to...

Summary: When a rookie driver finds herself paired with the reigning champion Max Verstappen, sparks fly. Ambition clashes with undeniable chemistry, as their rivalry and relationship evolves throughout the intense F1 calendar.

Author's Note: Here it is, now just shy of 9k words! This fanfic is significantly longer and more narrative-driven than anything I’ve written on here so far. I really hope you all enjoy it, and I’d greatly appreciate any feedback you might have, thanks!

8.8k words / Masterlist

Race Weekend 1 – Bahrain Grand Prix

The paddock was alive with a low hum of tension and excitement, the air saturated with the distinct scent of burning rubber and gasoline.

You had been here before, in different categories as a rising talent in the motorsport world, but Formula 1 was a whole new arena. Walking through the Red Bull Racing garage you felt the weight of the world pressing down on you. This wasn’t just a race, it was your first F1 race weekend, and to top it off your teammate was none other than Max Verstappen, the reigning World Champion.

Max's reputation preceded him. The fierce competitor, a driver with an almost inhuman ability to push his car beyond the limits, appearing to be in a league of his own. Now he was your teammate or, more realistically, you were his teammate. It was his team, his title on the line, and you were just the rookie fresh to the team and to some extent an uninvited guest in his house.

As you stepped into the garage you caught a glimpse of Max. He was sitting with his usual air of intense concentration, eyes fixed on the telemetry data on his tablet as if he could solve every on-track issue with sheer force of will. His dirty blonde hair peeked out from under his cap. For a moment your eyes met, and a flicker of something passed between you. It wasn’t friendly. A short, curt nod was all he gave you before returning to his data, as if you were a distraction not worth his time.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nerves gnawing at your insides. No one said this would be easy. Max was a World Champion, he didn’t have time for rookies.

Your debut race weekend came at you fast, a blur of press conferences, strategy meetings, and practice sessions. The eyes of the motorsport world were on you, and the pressure was immense. You had qualified a respectable eighth, but Max was on pole. It wasn’t just a gap in pace — it was a chasm. Still, for your first race it wasn’t bad, or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Sunday, and the garage was bustling with energy, staff buzzing around like a well-oiled machine. Everyone knew their place. Everyone except you it seemed.

You were sitting in the team motorhome, staring at your race strategy when Max finally broke the silence between you.

“Nervous?” he asked, though the way he phrased it didn’t leave much room for a simple yes or no. His tone was casual, but his gaze remained laser-focused, almost challenging.

You looked up from your tablet, startled. He hadn’t said more than a few words to you all weekend. “Not particularly,” you replied, keeping your voice even.

Max’s lips quirked into a smirk, but there was no warmth in it. “Good. Nervous drivers make mistakes.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if this was advice or a thinly veiled insult. “I’ve been racing a long time Max.”

“This isn’t F2,” he replied smoothly.

“I know how to drive,” you shot back, feeling a flicker of irritation rise up inside you.

Max studied you for a moment as if weighing his next words carefully. “Sure. Just don't get in my way.”

And with that he stood up, grabbing his helmet and walking out of the motorhome without another word. You watched him go, your jaw clenched. He was right this wasn’t F2, but you weren’t going to let him dismiss you like someone who didn’t belong here.

The race itself was brutal. Max dominated from start to finish, winning with the same ruthless efficiency that had earned him the title. Meanwhile, you struggled. The car felt unbalanced, the tyres didn’t last as long as you’d hoped, and you made a few rookie mistakes costing you valuable positions. You finished with just one measly point, a disheartening tenth place.

As you walked back into the garage, still buzzing with the adrenaline of the race you could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Max was already there sitting with his engineers discussing his race. He didn’t acknowledge you, didn’t even glance in your direction.

You slumped into your chair, exhausted and frustrated. Everyone tried to cheer you up telling you it was a good effort for your first race, but the disappointment gnawed at you. You didn’t come here to finish tenth. You wanted to be on the podium, fighting for wins, not languishing in the midfield.

From across the garage, Max’s voice cut through the noise. He was talking to his race engineer, but his words stung as if they were meant directly for you.

“They need to focus on my initial concerns,” he said, his tone casual but firm. “We don’t have time to worry about the rookies issues right now.”

You clenched your fists, the frustration building. It wasn’t just about the race anymore. It was about proving that you belonged here, that you could stand toe-to-toe with him. Max might be the reigning champion, but you weren’t going to let him walk all over you.

Race Weekend 4 - Japanese Grand Prix Qualifying

You stormed into the garage ripping off your helmet in frustration. Your heart was still pounding, not just from the high-speed laps but from the seething anger simmering under your skin. No matter how much you pushed yourself, Max was always one step ahead. The gap felt minimal, fractions of a second, but it might as well have been a canyon.

Max was already there, cool and composed, his pole position nothing out of the ordinary. He was talking with one of the engineers, a slight smirk tugging at his lips like he had already forgotten about the rest of the field. About you.

You could feel your blood boiling. The way he acted so untouchable, so certain of his superiority. Without thinking you marched toward him, your voice sharper than you intended.

"What's your secret Verstappen?" you asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Is it the car, or just pure luck?"

Max glanced over his shoulder, his expression unbothered. He raised an eyebrow that infuriating smirk growing. "Luck? Is that what you're going with?"

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. "I’m just trying to figure out how someone so smug manages to stay on top."

He turned to face you fully now, a look of mild amusement playing across his features. "Maybe it's not that complicated. Maybe I’m just better."

The arrogance in his voice was like fuel to the fire, and you took a step closer, your jaw clenched. "Or maybe you’re just used to coasting because no one’s challenged you here. You’re not untouchable, Max."

Max’s smirk faded slightly his blue eyes narrowing as he took a step toward you. "You think you’re the one to change that? Face it, you're good, but you're not there yet. You’re reckless, always pushing too hard. It’s gonna cost you eventually."

His words cut deeper than you expected. They weren’t just taunts they felt like a judgment, like he had already written you off. But you weren’t about to let him get inside your head.

"At least I’m not afraid to take risks," you shot back.

Max’s eyes flashed, and for a moment something darker crossed his face, something serious. "This isn’t a game you know. There’s no room for mistakes here. You’re playing with fire, and if you keep going the way you are you’re going to burn out."

His words hung in the air between you, the tension crackling like static. He wasn’t mocking you anymore, this was something else, something more intense. You didn’t know if he was trying to warn you or challenge you, but either way you weren’t backing down.

"I’d rather burn out than fade away," you said, your voice hard.

Max didn’t reply immediately, but his eyes locked on yours, unblinking. There was something unreadable in his expression, like he was seeing you in a new light, but it was hard to tell if it was respect or frustration.

"Just stay out of my way," he finally said, his voice quiet but charged. Then he turned, walking away, leaving you standing there with your pulse racing and your fists clenched.

You watched him go, the frustration and anger still swirling inside you. He was wrong about you—you weren’t going to burn out. But something about his words stuck with you, lingering long after he’d walked away, like an unwanted echo in the back of your mind.

Race Weekend 6 - Spanish Grand Prix

The race had ended hours ago, but the irritation still churned in your chest. Sitting in the team briefing room, the air between you and Max was thick with tension, as had become the norm. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart, still replaying the near-collision between you and Max in your head.

Max sat across the table, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. It was like nothing got to him, like the chaos on the track didn’t even phase him. The way he remained so calm, so detached, only made your anger burn hotter.

Most of the engineers finally left the room and the door clicked shut behind them. The silence that followed was suffocating. You couldn’t hold back anymore.

"Next time," you snapped, your voice cutting through the quiet, "try not to run me off the track."

Max didn’t even flinch, he looked at you his expression infuriatingly calm. "You’re exaggerating."

"Exaggerating?" you exclaimed, your voice rising. "You practically forced me off the track at Turn 8! If I hadn’t backed off, we’d have both been out of the race."

Max sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table. "It’s racing. Hard racing. If you can’t handle it, maybe you should reconsider what you’re doing here."

You clenched your fists under the table, every muscle in your body tensing. You knew part of the anger was stemming from knowing there was truth to his words, but you weren't going to admit that anytime soon.

"I can handle hard racing just fine," you shot back. "What I can’t handle is you acting like you’re the only one who deserves to be here. I’m your teammate Max, not your punching bag."

Max’s eyes darkened, and for the first time, you saw something else behind his cool exterior—annoyance, maybe even anger. "Teammate?" he repeated, his voice colder now. "You don’t act like one. You drive like you’re the only person on the track."

You laughed bitterly, unable to hold it in. "That’s rich, coming from you. You’ve spent this whole season so far treating me like I’m not even worth your time. It’s like you can’t stand the idea of someone else being good enough to challenge you."

Max stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. His sudden movement startled you, but you didn’t back down.

"Challenge me?" he said, his voice low but sharp. "This isn’t about some petty rivalry. You’re reckless. You don’t think about the bigger picture. You only care about beating me, and it’s going to get someone hurt—probably you."

His words stung more than you expected. It wasn’t just that he thought you weren’t good enough. It was the way he said it, like he didn’t believe you’d ever be more than a threat to yourself.

"You think I don’t know what I’m doing?" you asked, your voice shaking with anger now. "You think I’m just some rookie who’s out of their depth?"

Max didn’t answer right away. He just stood there staring at you with those piercing blue eyes, like he was trying to figure you out but couldn’t. The silence stretched on heavy and suffocating.

Then, finally, he spoke. "I think you’re talented," he admitted, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. "But you let your emotions get the better of you. You take unnecessary risks because you’re trying to prove something."

His words cut deep, hitting a nerve you hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just criticising your driving anymore, he was questioning you, the way you handled everything. And what stung the most was that part of you feared he might be right.

You stood up, matching his stance refusing to show any weakness. "I don’t need a lecture from you Max. You’re not perfect either."

Max’s jaw tightened, and for a split second, you thought you saw something flicker across his face, hurt? But just as quickly it was gone, replaced by that familiar steely expression.

"Maybe I’m not," he said.

The room felt like it was closing in on you, the air thick with unresolved tension. You wanted to say something, anything, to break through the wall between you, but the anger and frustration clouded your thoughts, you could feel his gaze on your back as you walked out of the room. You slammed the door behind you, the sound echoing down the empty hallway.

Race Weekend 8 – Monaco Grand Prix

You and Max had barely spoken during practice, though the tension was undeniable. He still had that smug look on his face, his confidence oozing off him as you wiped the sweat from your forehead. You could feel your heart beating just a little faster, though you’d never admit it was anything but adrenaline.

As you sat down in the garage, peeling off your gloves, Max passed by.

"Not bad, rookie," he said casually. "Though, I almost expected you to spin out in Turn 4. You were practically kissing the barriers."

You raised an eyebrow, not willing to let him get the better of you. "Almost, huh? Shame you weren’t close enough to see the whole thing. Maybe you could have learned something."

He snorted, leaning against the wall next to you. "Oh, trust me, I got the best view. Though I’m still not sure if you're brave or just reckless."

You gave him a sideways glance smiling "Maybe I’m both."

Max's eyes lingered on you for a second longer than necessary, and you could feel the weight of it. He sat back in his chair, watching you, and the silence between you grew comfortable. You caught him glancing at you again, that smirk back in place, but this time it felt... different.

"You know," he said, voice teasing, "you should smile more often. You look less intimidating when you do."

You glanced up, confused for a second. "I’m not the one people are intimated by."

"Maybe not," he said, eyes glinting, "but you’ve got your own way of getting under people's skin."

"Well, I learned from the best," you shot back without missing a beat.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Touché."

Race Weekend 11 – Italian Grand Prix

As the season wore on, things began to shift slowly. You had found your rhythm, steadily improving race by race. You weren’t on Max’s level, not yet, but you were consistently finishing in the points, and at times, you had even managed to challenge him during practice or qualifying. But the dynamic between you remained strained. Max was still focused on his championship, and while the outright hostility had faded there was still an undeniable tension between the two of you.

The Italian Grand Prix was one of the most iconic races of the season. Monza, the Temple of Speed, with its long straights and tight corners it was a test of both car and driver. You had qualified fourth, but once again Max was on pole. It was becoming a frustrating pattern.

After qualifying you found yourself alone in the paddock, sitting on the steps outside the motorhome. You were replaying your lap in your head over and over, trying to figure out where you could have found more time.

“Still overthinking?” Max’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you looked up to see him standing a few feet away, his helmet under his arm.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Just trying to figure out how to be half a second faster.”

Max walked over, sitting down beside you on the steps. “You’re pushing too hard,” he said after a moment, his voice surprisingly soft. “You’re overdriving the car.”

You frowned, not sure if this was another dig or actual advice. “I’m trying to make up the gap.”

“You can’t drive like that here,” he continued, his eyes scanning the empty track. “You have to let the car come to you. If you keep forcing it, you’re going to keep making mistakes.”

You looked at him genuinely surprised. This was the first time he had offered anything resembling constructive advice. “Why are you telling me this?”

Max didn’t meet your gaze, instead looking out at the paddock. “Because I’ve been where you are. I know what it’s like to have everything to prove.”

You paused, his words sinking in. For the first time, you realised that Max wasn’t just being arrogant. He had been in your shoes once, the young driver trying to prove himself in a world that was constantly questioning if he was good enough, if he was ready.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice a little quieter than usual. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Max nodded, standing up and stretching. “Don’t get used to it,” he said with his familiar smirk. “I still want to beat you.”

You laughed, the tension between you easing just a little. “I’ll keep that in mind too.”

The race at Monza was chaotic as expected. The high-speed circuit, combined with the aggressive nature of the drivers made for a thrilling but nerve-wracking experience. Max was fighting for the win as usual, while you were locked in a battle in the top five.

In the closing laps you found yourself side by side with a McLaren, both of you fighting tooth and nail for fourth place. It was intense, wheel-to-wheel racing, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. But Max’s earlier words echoed in your head. Don’t overdrive. Let the car come to you.

With a deep breath you backed off slightly, biding your time, waiting for the right moment. And when it came, you seized it, pulling off a clean overtake and securing fourth place. It wasn’t the podium you wanted, but it was solid result.

After the race you were exhausted, but satisfied. It wasn’t a win but it was a step in the right direction. As you walked back into the garage you caught Max’s eye. He didn’t say anything, but there was a subtle nod of acknowledgment. You had his respect even if he wasn’t going to say it out loud.

Race Weekend 13 - British Grand Prix

It was late in the evening, the team had thrown a small celebration after a particularly challenging but successful race for both of you. The atmosphere was relaxed, and after a few drinks you and Max found yourselves sitting together away from the others. The competitive edge was still there, but the rivalry was fading, replaced by something you couldn’t quite name.

You stretched out leaning back on your hands as the warm night air brushed against your skin. Max sat next to you, closer than usual, the dim light casting soft shadows across his face.

“Do you ever feel like it’s all... too much?” you asked suddenly, surprising even yourself with the question. You weren’t even sure why you asked it, but something about the late night and the quiet moment made you feel like maybe you could.

Max looked over at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. “Sometimes. More than I admit to most people.”

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard. You turned to him, genuinely curious now. “Really? You always seem so in control...so unfazed.”

He gave a half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s all part of it, you know? The cameras, the pressure... you just get good at pretending.”

You looked at him for a moment, seeing past the champion exterior, catching a glimpse of something more vulnerable underneath. It was oddly comforting, knowing he wasn’t as untouchable as you’d thought.

“Well,” you said softly, “you’re pretty good at it. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think anyone’s really in control. Not out there.”

Max turned his head to look at you, his expression softer, more open than you’d ever seen before. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Maybe you’re right.”

There was a pause, his eyes lingered on yours, and you felt your heartbeat pick up. You quickly looked away feeling the tension crackle between you.

"Maybe you’re not quite as annoying as I first thought," you said with a light nudge, trying to break the tension with a small smirk.

Max laughed softly the sound low and surprisingly warm. "High praise coming from you."

But the way he looked at you in that moment made it clear that something had shifted between you. Neither of you said anything else for a while, just sitting there in the quiet night, side by side.

Race Weekend 14 - Dutch Grand Prix

You leaned against the railing of the team’s paddock area, the noise of celebration and chatter swirling around you. It was hard not to smile. You’d just finished in an easy second, your best race yet. It was a personal victory, a testament to all the hard work you’d put in.

But even with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, a knot of conflicting emotions twisted in your stomach. You had to talk to Max.

As if he sensed your thoughts, you turned to see him walking toward you, a small grin on his face. It was a mix of confidence and camaraderie, and for the first time in a while, you felt less inclined to roll your eyes.

“Great race today,” he said, his tone genuine as he leaned against the railing beside you.

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I actually thought I might’ve had a shot at you there.”

He chuckled softly, and you felt your heart flutter at the sound. “You were close. Just need to find a bit more speed in those corners, and you’ll be there.”

You took a deep breath, the earlier tension bubbling to the surface. “You know, it used to annoy me—how you carried yourself, like you were always one step ahead of everyone. Like it was your birth right to be where you are and no one else could catch you.”

Max raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your honesty. “Yeah?"

You turned to face him, the excitement of the race fading into something more serious. “But now? I get it. You’ve worked your ass off to be the best. It’s not just about talent, it’s about everything you’ve sacrificed. I can see that now. I see it everyday”

He nodded slowly, and the atmosphere shifted between you. “It’s not easy, you know. When everyone expects you to win, and if you don’t, it feels like you’ve let them down.”

The vulnerability in his voice surprised you. It was a reminder that he was human too, grappling with expectations and pressure. “But you handle it all so well,” you said, meeting his gaze. “I respect that.”

A smile ghosted across his lips. “Thanks. That means a lot. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been pushing yourself this season. It’s impressive.”

You felt warmth spread through your chest at his acknowledgment. “I’ve had to, I can’t just coast along. Not when you’re in the same garage.”

Max’s expression grew serious again. “I know I was... a bit frosty at the beginning. I guess I was too focused on myself to notice how much you were putting in. I don't want this to come across wrong... but it's your first season, and I didn’t want to give you any false hope thinking you could compete with me.”

You frowned slightly, you didn't want to dive into old wounds. “It’s okay. I get it.”

“No, it’s not okay,” he said, shaking his head. “You deserved better. I should have been more supportive. You pushed me too, you know? It’s hard to admit, but you’ve made me work harder, and I appreciate that.”

Your heart raced at his words. There was a sincerity in his tone that softened the rough edges of your previous encounters. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude mixed with disbelief.

“Really?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, really,” he replied. “You’ve improved more than I expected in such a short time. It takes guts to put yourself out there and challenge someone who’s been at the top for so long.”

The air between you was charged with a mix of emotions. You nodded, “Thanks for saying that Max. It means a lot to hear you acknowledge it.”

He shrugged, trying to downplay the moment, but the corners of his mouth quirked up. “Well, it’s true. Just don’t get too comfortable, I still plan on beating you.”

You laughed, feeling the tension dissipate. “Bring it on Verstappen. I’ll be ready.”

As you stood there, side by side, the competitive fire still smouldering between you, something shifted again—this time, the rivalry felt more like a partnership.

Race Weekend 16 – Azerbaijan Grand Prix

It was early morning Thursday, you and Max found yourselves sitting across from each other at breakfast, still somewhat groggy from travel. The team lounge was quiet, and the two of you were left alone at the table.

“You’re not gonna try and out-eat me too, are you?” Max asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he poked at his food.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t need to out-eat you Max. I’ve already out-qualified you once.”

His eyes lit up in mock offence. “One time! You’re never going to let that go are you?”

“Not a chance,” you said with a grin, taking a bite of your toast. “I’m framing that lap time.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re too easy to mess with,” you shot back. "Honestly, it's like a gift."

Max laughed, his genuine smile making your stomach flip in a way you couldn’t quite control. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I’m just letting you win the mind games. Gotta keep you feeling confident somehow.”

“Oh, so you’re being generous now?” you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

“Always,” he replied with a wink.

The playful banter was natural now, a far cry from the sharp edges and constant tension that had defined your early relationship. There was still competition between you, but now it felt like something that pushed you both forward, rather than tearing you apart.

And as you exchanged another playful jab, you couldn’t help but notice the way both your eyes kept catching each other.

Race Weekend 17 – Singapore Grand Prix

The garage had emptied out, leaving behind only the quiet hum of cooling equipment and the faint clatter of distant tools. A rough race, nothing had gone the way you wanted.

Across the room Max was fiddling with his helmet, but you could tell he wasn’t focused on it. He glanced over at you, then slowly made his way to where you were sitting.

“You okay?” His voice was softer than usual.

You didn’t answer at first, still staring down at your hands trying to shrug off the defeat. “Yeah. Just... it wasn’t my day.”

Max nodded, his gaze steady. “It happens,” he said simply, but there was something in his tone that made you look up.

You sighed, the frustration bubbling over. “I know, but it feels different... I thought I was ready to take that next step the consistency was finally there…and then it just comes crashing back down.”

Max was quiet for a moment and when he spoke again there was a warmth in his voice. “This is a brutal track don't be too hard on yourself. You’ve been doing everything you can, I promise it shows.”

You looked at him, meeting his eyes. “It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Max’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer his hand brushing lightly against your arm. “Trust me, it is.”

The simple touch sent a jolt through you, something unspoken passing between you in that small, fleeting contact. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything Max moved even closer, and in a moment that felt both surprising and natural, he pulled you into a hug.

At first, you were too stunned to react. The sudden closeness, the warmth of his body against yours—it caught you off guard. But then you felt the solid weight of his arms around you, and you melted into the embrace, resting your head against his shoulder. His body was firm, steady, grounding you in a way that made the tension of the day seem to fade.

The hug wasn’t rushed, it lingered, the quiet between you filled with something heavier than words. But the feel of him, his arms around you, his breath steady against your temple was hard to ignore.

You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the frustration, or something else entirely, but suddenly you were hyper-aware of every movement, the way his breath hitched slightly when you leaned into him, the subtle way his hand trailed down your back before settling again at your waist.

Max’s hands tightened slightly around you, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt. You felt his chin rest lightly on top of your head, and there was something in the way his body pressed against yours that sent your pulse racing.

For a moment it was just the two of you, the rest of the world forgotten. You could feel his heartbeat, steady but strong, and the closeness between you felt almost electric. You weren’t sure who would pull away first, or if either of you even wanted to.

When you finally pulled back neither of you moved far, your faces still inches apart. His hands lingered at your waist, and your breath caught when you saw the way his eyes flickered, just briefly, to your lips.

Neither of you said anything, but the way his fingers flexed slightly against your waist, the subtle tilt of his head, made it clear that you both felt it.

Your heart was pounding, the space between you charged. You could see it in his eyes, the question, the pull, but he didn’t act on it. Instead, he gave you a small almost imperceptible smile before he finally let go.

“You’re going to be fine,” he said, his voice quieter than before.

“Yeah,” you managed, trying to ignore the way your body still hummed from the closeness. “I know.”

Race Weekend 18 - Qatar Grand Prix

It was one of those rare nights when the team wasn’t focused on race strategy or technical debriefs. After a relentless set of races, the team had gathered at a low-lit restaurant lounge for a relaxed evening. Laughter and conversation flowed freely around the long table, and for once the entire team seemed at ease.

You were sitting with a few people and one of the mechanics Adam, was regaling everyone with a wildly exaggerated story about a mishap during a pit stop in his rookie year.

Max was sitting a few seats away, engrossed in a discussion with some of the team, but his eyes kept darting over to you, his gaze narrowing slightly as he observed the scene. His shoulders were tense, and the easygoing expression he’d worn earlier in the evening was replaced by something more guarded. It wasn’t like Max to be this quiet at team gatherings, and you were too distracted to notice at first, focused instead on Adam's ongoing tale.

But the shift in atmosphere caught your attention eventually. As you laughed at another one of Adam's jokes you glanced over to find Max staring your way, his jaw set. He quickly looked away, and downed the rest of his drink in one swift motion.

Curious, you turned back to Adam, who was obliviously leaning in a little closer still chuckling at his own story. And then Max was suddenly standing up, making his way around the table and pulling up a chair directly beside you, a smile plastered on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey,” Max greeted, his smile a little forced but convincing enough. “What’s going on over here then? Everyone seems to be having fun.”

Adam grinned and gave him a friendly nod. “Just telling some old war stories. You know how it is.”

“Oh, I bet,” Max replied.

You noticed it right away, especially the way he seemed intent on steering the conversation. “Adam was just telling me about his first-ever pit stop disaster,” you explained still smiling. “It’s been quite entertaining.”

“I’m sure it has,” Max said, but his gaze flickered to Adam again something unreadable in his eyes.

Adam glanced between the two of you, sensing the shift, and gave you a friendly smile before excusing himself to join another group. You watched him go, then turned back to Max noticing the tension still in his jaw.

“So, you came all the way over here to save me from pit lane stories?” you questioned.

Max shrugged, his expression casual. “I just didn’t want you to get bored. Thought you might appreciate something a bit more... entertaining.”

You turned to look at him, amused. “Uh-huh, or maybe you just didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.”

“Maybe. But I was doing you a favour, trust me. You’d have heard all of Adam’s best stories in the first five minutes.” He rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, what’s up?" you asked, genuinely confused by his behaviour.

Max didn’t respond immediately, instead glancing around the table, making sure no one was listening too closely before he spoke. "Nothing. Just... noticed you were getting along pretty well with Adam. I didn’t think he was was your type.”

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected comment. “Oh?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “And what makes you think you know my type?”

Max shrugged, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Just an observation,” he said.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that so? And what exactly do you think my type is Max?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “I'd guess someone who doesn’t just talk big but can actually back it up. You know, a real challenge.”

You felt a flicker of heat rush through you at his words, the playful banter quickly taking on a different tone. “A challenge, huh?” you teased. “Funny, I don’t remember you being all that interested in challenges off the track.”

Max's grin widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I guess you’ve been paying attention to the wrong things then.”

Your breath faltered, and for a second you wondered if he was going to say something else, if he was going to push this conversation into territory you hadn’t quite prepared for. But then, just as quickly as it started Max leaned back, breaking the moment with a light laugh.

“Don’t overthink it,” he teased with a grin. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

You laughed lightly, shaking your head at his familiar cockiness. “You’re impossible.”

Max just grinned wider. “That's what they tell me.”

For a few minutes you fell into an easy rhythm of teasing each other, the tension from earlier fading completely. Max shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours under the table.

“So, what are you going to do for the break?” he asked, his gaze lingering on your face.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the way he was looking at you. “Probably just spend some time with family, maybe catch up on some sleep. What about you?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet,” he said thoughtfully. “Might go back to Monaco, or maybe not. Depends.”

“Depends on what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Max met your gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment. “Depends on if there’s anything... interesting keeping me around.”

There was a challenge in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Or, maybe I’ll just catch up on sleep too,” he added with a wink, steering the conversation back into safer territory.

And before you could respond he reached out for his drink, his hand brushing yours briefly in a way that felt almost accidental. But the touch lingered, the heat of his skin against yours sending a jolt of awareness through you. Your eyes met again, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away, the noise of the restaurant, the people around you. It was just you and Max, the world narrowing down to that single point of contact.

Race Weekend 20 – US Grand Prix

The Padel court was quiet, bathed in the late afternoon sun as you and Max stood on opposite sides of the net. This was meant to be a fun break from the track to let off some steam, but the second you both picked up your paddles it became clear neither of you were about to take it easy.

He’d been chirping at you since you got here, claiming he was going to wipe the floor with you. But you’d heard that song before.

"You sure you’re ready for this?" Max called from the other side of the net, casually tossing the ball up and catching it, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I mean, you can still back out. No shame in admitting defeat early."

You gave him a deadpan look, adjusting your grip on the paddle. "You talk way too much for someone who’s about to lose."

Max rested against his paddle, flashing that familiar smirk. "I’m just letting you believe you have a chance. Keeps things interesting."

You served the ball with a sharp flick of your wrist, sending it careening over the net. Max responded quickly, returning it with ease. The ball bounced between you, a quick exchange of volleys. His movements were swift, confident, but you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand so easily.

"Nice try," Max said after you missed a ball that bounced just out of reach. "You almost looked like you knew what you were doing there."

"Careful Verstappen," you shot back, repositioning yourself for the next rally. "I’m just warming up."

Max laughed, shaking his head. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re getting frustrated."

"I don’t get frustrated," you countered, serving the ball again, aiming straight for his side.

"Oh, you definitely do." He easily returned it, the smirk on his face only growing as you both rallied.

You grinned, already feeling the familiar rush of competition surging through you. This wasn’t racing, but it had the same energy—the need to outmanoeuvre, outthink, outplay. And if there was one thing you and Max did well it was push each other’s limits.

"You're really going to make me run for it, huh?" Max panted as he lunged to return a low ball, his paddle barely grazing it.

You smirked. "Wouldn't want you to get too comfortable."

After a particularly long rally, you smashed a shot just out of his reach, winning the point. Max groaned throwing his head back dramatically. "Unbelievable."

You pumped your fist, grinning from ear to ear. "And that’s how it’s done."

"Okay, okay," he wheezed, though his eyes were still bright with amusement. "I’ll give you that one. But don’t think I’m letting you win."

"Letting me win?" you repeated, wiping the sweat from your brow. "That’s cute Max."

Max walked to the net, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Alright, you got lucky. One point, I’ll give you that."

"One point?" you scoffed, meeting him at the net. "Try four."

"Technicalities," he muttered, but the grin on his face betrayed his playful frustration. He watched you with a glint in his eye. "You know, you’re a lot better at this than I thought."

"Coming from you that means so much." you said dryly.

Max chuckled, his gaze still lingering on you. There was a moment of quiet, the sun casting long shadows on the court, the air between you thick with a kind of unspoken understanding.

"You’re not so bad yourself," you added, breaking the silence but not the tension. "For a guy who spends most of his free time gaming."

Max raised an eyebrow laughing again. "That supposed to be a compliment?"

You shrugged. "Take it however you want."

His grinned. "I think I’ll take it as a compliment."

Before you could reply, he stepped back, tossing the ball in the air. "Alright, rematch. Best two out of three. I’m not letting you walk away with that win."

"You just can’t handle losing to me can you?" you teased, taking your position, ready for another round. "I’m starting to think you just like seeing me sweat."

He chuckled, but the way his eyes lingered on you for a beat longer said more than his words did. "You’re not wrong."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, but there was no denying the subtle shift in the air. It wasn’t obvious or overt, but the dynamic between you had changed in the last few weeks. The teasing was still there, but there was a different kind of energy between you now, one that neither of you had quite acknowledged yet.

You cleared your throat, stepping back and spinning the ball in your hand. "Let’s finish this then. I’ve got a winning streak to keep."

Max’s grin returned, but it was softer now, less competitive and more… something else. "We’ll see about that."

Race Weekend 22 – Brazil Grand Prix

On race day, the tension was palpable. The roar of engines, the smell of burning rubber, and the hum of adrenaline filled the air. Max was standing next to his car helmet in hand, the pre-race jitters barely showing on his face. You caught his eye from across the garage, and for a moment, the world seemed to quiet around you.

You approached, trying to shake off the strange tension that always seemed to linger between the two of you lately. Max’s gaze met yours, steady but with an intensity that made your breath catch for just a second.

“Ready to lose today?” you asked, trying to keep things light, but your voice sounded a little shakier than you’d intended.

Max smirked, stepping closer than necessary. “In your dreams.”

You tried to roll your eyes, but the proximity made it hard to focus. There was a heat in his gaze and you found yourself holding your breath for a moment.

“Don’t get too cocky Verstappen,” you muttered, the playful tone masking the way your pulse raced.

He leaned in just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I think that’s your job now.”

For a second, it felt like everything had stopped—the noise, the chaos of the track, all fading into the background. But just as quickly the moment passed, and Max stepped back sliding his helmet on.

“See you at the finish line,” he said over his shoulder.

You stood there for a second longer trying to steady your breath, knowing that this race and whatever was happening between you two was far from over.

End of the Season – Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

The season had been a rollercoaster filled with highs and lows. You had stood on the podium for the first time in Canada, a moment that felt surreal after all the hard work. But there had also been heartbreak, a crash in Austria that had cost you valuable points, a mechanical failure in Mexico that had seen you retire from a race where you could have scored big.

Through it all your relationship with Max had continued to evolve. You still raced on track, fighting for every inch of tarmac, but off the track things had changed. There was mutual respect, an understanding that had grown over the course of the season. The animosity that had once defined your relationship was gone, replaced by something more complicated.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix was the final race of the season, and the championship was on the line. Max was in a tight battle for the title, and the pressure on both of you was immense.

The night before the race you found Max sitting alone in the team motorhome, staring out at the glowing lights of the Yas Marina Circuit. He looked unusually quiet, his usual air of confidence tempered by the gravity of the situation.

“You ready for tomorrow?” you asked, leaning against the doorway.

Max didn’t look at you, his eyes still focused on the track outside. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You stepped inside, sitting down across from him*. “You’re going to win it.”*

Max finally turned to face you, a small, almost tired smile on his face. “You sound pretty sure of that.”

“I’ve watched you all season. No one’s better than you out there,” you said simply, meaning every word.

Max shook his head, letting out a short laugh. “You’re not so bad yourself you know.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

You had fought hard to get to this point, and though Max was still your fiercest competition, he was also the one person who, you now realised, might understand you better than anyone else.

Abu Dhabi Grand Prix – Race Day

Race day was electric, the air crackling with anticipation. The championship battle had come down to this — the final race of the season, and everything was on the line. Max was in contention for the title, but his rival wasn’t far behind. Every lap, every pit stop, every decision mattered.

You were focused on your own race, but there was an underlying pressure you couldn’t ignore. Max needed you to perform today. If you could help him by holding off the cars behind, or making sure the team strategy worked in his favour, you would.

The race itself was a blur. The car felt good and you pushed hard, determined to finish the year on a high.

As the laps ticked down, the tension in the pit lane grew. Max was leading, but his rival was closing in behind you, and the team was on a knifes-edge. Then, with just a few laps to go, you got the call from your engineer.

“We need you to hold position, keep the cars behind you. Max needs this.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. It wasn’t the call you wanted to hear, but you understood. This was the team game. You weren’t fighting for the championship, but Max was.

“Got it,” you replied, gritting your teeth as you focused on the task ahead.

For the next few laps, you fought with everything you had to keep the cars behind you, giving Max the breathing room he needed. It was arguably the hardest race of your life, the pressure almost unbearable. But when the checkered flag finally fell, you had done it.

Max crossed the line first, securing the championship, and you finished in a solid second place.

The roar of the crowd was deafening, fireworks lighting up the sky as Max stood on the podium, the World Champion once again. You watched him celebrate, a mixture of pride and satisfaction swelling in your chest. You hadn’t won, but in a way you had still achieved something important. You had proven that you could compete at this level, that you could stand with the best.

Later that night, after all the celebrations had died down you found Max sitting alone in the quiet garage, his championship trophy resting beside him.

“Not partying with the team?” you asked.

Max looked up, his face still glowing with the satisfaction of victory. “Needed a minute,” he said, his voice soft.

You stepped inside, sitting down beside him. “You did it,” you said, a small smile on your lips.

Max glanced at you, his blue eyes filled with something deeper than just the thrill of winning. “We did it,” he corrected, his voice sincere.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the season, the challenges you had both faced, the fights on and off the track — it all hung in the air between you. But there was no tension now, no rivalry. Just understanding.

“You really helped me today,” Max said after a while, his voice quiet but firm. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off, but his words meant more to you than you’d expected. “Just doing my job.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “You did more than that.”

You turned to face him fully, your knees brushing against his, the closeness between you suddenly palpable. His eyes were on you, and the look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine.

You met his gaze smiling, the two of you had been through so much together, and now, sitting in the quiet aftermath of victory, it felt like the beginning of something new.

But then the playful smile faded, replaced by a more intense expression. His gaze flickered, dropping to your lips for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to send your heart racing.

The space between you seemed to shrink. You felt your breath hitch as Max shifted closer, the warmth of his body brushing against yours. His hand moved, almost hesitantly, to your arm, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that made every nerve in your body stand on end.

You could feel it now, the weight of everything unsaid, everything that had built up over the season, all the unspoken moments between you. It was all right there, in the way his hand lingered on your arm, the way his breath caught as his eyes met yours again, more intensely this time.

“You’re not bad at this whole teammate thing,” Max murmured, his voice low.

You rolled your eyes, but the banter was thin now, the words barely a distraction from the way your heart was pounding in your chest. “I guess you're not so bad yourself.”

Max’s smile faded again, his gaze serious, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The garage, the race, the entire championship, none of it mattered. It was just the two of you, sitting there in the quiet.

And then, before you could even process what was happening, Max leaned in.

It was slow at first, as if he was giving you time to pull away, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. His lips hovered just above yours, the space between you almost unbearable, and then finally he closed the distance.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it didn’t stay that way for long. There was too much between you for it to be gentle. His hand came up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, and you felt your body respond, your heart pounding in your ears.

It wasn’t a kiss born out of victory or celebration. It was something else, something more intense, like all the tension, the rivalry, the unspoken moments between you had finally come to a head. It was raw, charged, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning around you.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Max’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed as he let out a shaky breath.

Neither of you spoke for a long moment. There was a shift now, something irrevocable between you, but it felt right. Like this was where you were always meant to end up.

“You know,” Max murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “Next year’s going to be interesting.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “You have no idea.” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “Next year, I’m coming for you.”

Max grinned. “I’d like to see you try.”

And as you sat there, still wrapped up in each other you couldn’t help but smile. The season may have ended, but the story between you and Max was far from over.

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader

stepmom selina anyone?? anyone interested in some stepmom selina?? (me, i am)

i feel like selina would be such a girl mom but also i have this image of damian’s twin being like his opposite. sooo i think the dynamic between her and selina would be fun cause it’s like black sheep & white sheep.

selina would try and teach her the art of stealth and reader would teach her the art of idk friendship?? no but fr i feel like reader and selina would be such a fun duo. bruce’s girls tbh like they team up and they’re unstoppable. also can you imagine the boy advice selina would give? “yeah just steal one of his prized possessions and he’ll come after you. works every time 😏” like okay thanks queen! in terms of like yandere behavior, i feel like she’s one to plant the little seeds of doubt in reader’s mind about others. like “aw sweetie it’s okay, you’re way too good for them! you never do anything wrong 🥹.” meanwhile the person in question is filing for bankruptcy cause their valuables are gone.

barbara is so ‘cool older sister’ coded it’s actually insane. she’s incredibly smart and good with tech, plus she’s really pretty and cool as hell??? reader is like “hiii hello hiii ” and she INSTANTLY becomes her newest role model.

her like ‘yandereness’ would probably be similar to tim’s but instead of trying to keep reader home, she more so just watches her. like if reader wants to go to a party and it’s on a bad corner of town, barbs will give her directions to go to avoid the most trouble. probably the least likely to kill someone tbh i just can’t see her doing it.

reader and cassandra they were both raised by assassins so they probably bond over that and then how life is after leaving. it’s canon that cass can speak (which we’ve seen her do) but she uses body language instead of words. with this, i like to think that she can teach reader how to read people easier. you know, as a little bonding activity! also damian is canonically good with music (the violin specifically i believe), so reader is likely the same. so now just imagine reader playing an instrument while cass dances 🙏.

cass’s type of yandere is mostly just watching from the shadows. like reader brings a boyfriend home and cass is in the corner standing like mothman. if anyone does reader wrong TRUST cass will be kicking the hell out of them 🙏🙏.

stephanie, like duke, is the closest to the normal sibling experience one can get 😭 but tbh i see her as being more as a best friend that’s a ‘sister figure.’ plus i like stephcass so screw you that’s canon now. having improvised fashion shows at 4am, gossiping about everything and everyone (which she then tells cass but shhhh), having self care days like that’s her bff! with steph i feel like she’s not the type to actually attack anyone directly, but instead just telling cass and/or tim about whatever (or whoever) it is reader is having problems with. now if they’re patrolling together and reader gets attacked? yeah she’ll beat the other person up! (or at least get a couple hits in if reader already took care of it)

now that the fam is written for, please please please send any requests y’all wanna see! romantic (outside the batfam ONLY!!! no sweet home alabama here) or platonic, feel free to send an ask or leave a comment!

heyyyy… heyyyy…. how yall doing….? 😔😔 sorry for disappearing buuuut thanks so much for sticking around! sorry if this part doesn’t quite live up to the other two but somehow the girls are harder to write for?? i hope i got them but honestly any criticism would be appreciated. also i kinda skimped over the yandere part for helena so sorry abt that😭. might go back in and change it but who knows.

also i’ve been fixated on conner kent for some reason???? that’s my pookie guys yall dont get it.

anyways love love LOVE yall so much bye byeeee ❤️

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Some Dad!Cod Character Scenario and Appreciation Post

Characters In Mind: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, König, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

The original creator of the picture, they also have so many works that are used in so many fanfics as well so please credit her. I found her account here on Tumblr (@ave661) and here is the post.

AFAB!Reader and used pronouns are "you"

Apologies if this is a bit too short but;

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: I've had a good but also bad week (good thanks to @puff0o0 and other extremely sweet mutuals), it's neutral, I'm not here to rant of any sort but my personal life has not been good. I understand that not everyone will like me but it feels as though everyone hates me, most of those people happen to be at school. Sure I'm not really going to do anything about it because I prefer avoiding conflict but those same people are trying to flip the story around as if I'm the one who hates them when in reality I don't and by being mean to me they're giving me a reason to dislike them. Sure I'm average academically, sometimes I have difficulty pulling my weight in group works and I'm not outstanding in reportings but we all have our difficulties. I just don't understand people who love to hate on others because they have nothing better to do.

This is a word of advice to everyone, don't let others let you feel insignificant, you aren't and you have many talents that make you different from them. (I don't really practice what I preach because I love self-deprication, however I don't want people to feel the way I do because I know what it can cause)

Disclaimers/warnings: OOC??, Pregnancy, Implied birth, Children (Pretty sure that was obvious from the title), People who don't want/hate children be warned.

Short note: This is also a dedication to all the Mistki and Hozier fans out there <3

He was so used to the smell of hospitals, the smell of medication, it always indicated death for him but this was a whole new feeling. It was the opposite of what he has seen most of his life

So much so that he refused to hold them, afraid of potentially hurting the fragile little one. He looked at you as if you were crazy when you tried to hand him the baby, "Come on now love, you can't just avoid holding them forever" you said to him as of it was a life or death situation.

Hesitantly letting you guide him through the proper way to hold them, he felt his breath hitch at the sound of cooing. The first time the baby opened it's eyes, the first thing they saw being their dad.

The moment he looked at the baby sealed it, he was going to protect them their whole life, he would go as far as feeling all the guilt of having blood on their hands again if it meant your baby would be protected and cared for.

The baby was so small that it's little head was practically the size of his palm, he didn't know initially what to do when the baby cried and shocked himself when he managed to make them stop.

Once the baby was old enough to crawl, he'd let the baby crawl all over him. The little one babbling non-sense while he just chuckled and replied as if he understood what the baby was saying. Gods be damned if he misses an important milestone such as their first word or their first time walking.

You'd often wake up to seeing him shirtless snoozing on the couch, the tv playing only ads for home appliances late at night while the baby only in a diaper having skin to skin contact with their dad, his huge hand big enough to support the little one from falling.

He almost cried the first time your baby reached for his face an touched it, resting it's tiny little fingers on his cheek, giving him a gummy smile. His little one unaware that they just healed something they never broke.

He NEVER wants to ever see your little one grow up, though sure it makes more memories with them, sometimes they just wish time stops for a second so they can enjoy the moment longer.

Initially was terrified that he'd pass his trauma down but he realized that wouldn't be possible and he will NOT ever let them go through what he did.

Eventually chose to resign from his work because the risk was far too much, what if he died? He'd leave you and your child to grieve over him? He won't be there for them growing up and he'd miss everything.

Sure he's worked most his life to get where he is now but nothing is ever worth more than spending a lifetime with you and your child together. He's been lonely almost all his life until he met you.

You are his family, his everything. He promised that whatever happens, he'll crawl home to you...

[count-on-mi]

Twice Interactive Story Part 7 Official Cheater Now (Momo, Feat. Jihyo)

You standing in front of Jihyo's home, thinking how you could explain to Jihyo what happened today. You don't want to lie to her, but telling Jihyo that you have sexual relationships with women other than your girlfriend is also inappropriate.

You are hesitating to press the doorbell, and you finally give up and leave. When you turn around, you just see Jihyo coming out from the lift, she is still recovering from the jogging, her tits shaking following her breathe.

 "Oh hi Jihyo, looks like you had a good run. I was wanted to talk to you."

 'OH, you wanna talk about your colleague? You don't need to explain to me, it's fine. Everyone has their own private life.' Jihyo said.

 "Yeah, but I feel like I should explain the situation and I want to ask for advice. I don't really have many others to go to so I wanted to ask you."

 'Ok then, then come in.' Jihyo invites you to come in her house.

 'Still got some time before my husband back from work, need some drink?' Jihyo open the fridge while you are waiting her on the sofa.

 'Just water is ok, thanks Jihyo.'

 'So, what do you want to talk, I'm ready, Y/N.'

 "Sana, my coworker has been pushing herself on me a lot. We had sex a few times but now she's being way too much. How do I get her to stop. We had that ridiculous situation earlier, and I just don't want to deal with that any longer. Jihyo she was masturbating in the streets moaning my name when I tried to drop her off at her house. She wouldn't go in and to make it worse it was locked and she didn’t have the key. Jihyo I really need any advice."

 'Oh, so she is addicted to sex, so she just can stop having sex? Or anything that you have done that leads to she is having some misunderstanding on your relationship?'

 'Most importantly, what are you considering this relationship? Just curious about that, no offense.'

 "She just keeps coming back Jihyo. She is addicted or something like that. Our relationship? Friends with benefits, or at least it was but I'm reconsidering now."

 'I don't know, maybe she is developing more feelings on you, and it just becomes worsen when you two have sex.' Jihyo said.

 'Why don't you two talk, make a clear definition of your relationship, so you can be more comfortable. Although I really hate you have a fwb besides your girlfriend, you should handle it properly, that girl is poor too.'

 "I appreciate the help Jihyo. Thanks." I start to leave her apartment.

 'Just find me if you need other advice, and treat your girlfriend better!' Jihyo sends you out.

 And you hear the sound of someone knocking on the door, it should be Jihyo's husband.

 "Looks like your husband is here." I say as I leave.

 Jihyo opens the door for you, and you are shocked by what you are seeing.

 'Hey honey, welcome back.'

 The husband of Jihyo is Daniel?

 'Hey Babe, this is the neighbor I talked last time, Y/N.'

 'And Y/N, this is my husband, Daniel, Daniel Kang.'

 "Nice to meet you. Sorry I can't stick around I have to go" I say as I head to my apartment to change.

 You try to walk past Daniel to leave the flat, preventing further embarrassment, but Daniel stops you.

 'Why would you be in my house, you bastard, stay away from my wife.' Daniel looks angry and try to slab your face.

 I'll react quickly and grab his hand before he can hit me. "Woah, I was just getting some advice. Cool your jets."

 Jihyo steps inside you and Daniel, trying to cool down both of you. 'Y/N, leave now, I will handle this.' And she pushed you to leave the flat before closing the door.

 You back home and change your clothes, ready to find Momo in the gym. When you walk past Jihyo's flat again, you can hear nothing.

 I'll go to the gym without thinking about his actions too much.

 You arrive at the gym, Momo is dancing again at the mirror room. You just watch her dance from outside, admiring her superb dancing skill.

 Momo finally notice you after the dance session, she rush out to hug you tightly.

 'I miss you so much darling, how is it today?'

 I kiss Momo's forehead "I had a really rough day. What about you?"

 Momo kiss your cheek, 'I have a good bay, because you are here with me. Need some massage to relieve your stress?'

 "Yeah, I could really use one right now."

 Momo brings you back to her room and gives you a massage. Seeing you are really stressed today, Momo doesn't tease you, she directly applies oil to her breast and starts giving you the body massage.

 "Thanks Momo, I really needed this." I say as I feel her boobs start to massage my body.

 Momo slowly uses her hand to rub your inner thigh, then grab your shaft from behind and starts stroking. The pleasure makes you kneel like a dog, Momo increases both the pace and the intensity, and pulls your shaft to behind. You soon arrive at the peak, you cum in her hand while moaning her name.

 After my climax I switch our positions and start to finger Momo, "let me make your day even better, Momo."

 After you reach your orgasm, Momo is still stroking you, hope you can enjoy the aftertaste of the orgasm. You flip her over and start fingering her, hope to satisfy her too.

 You two are now in a 69 position, licking each other, hoping they can reach orgasm.

 I grab onto Momo's ass so I can drive my tongue deeper into her pussy. Occasionally I'll give her a light spanking.

 You drive your tongue deeper into Momo's pussy, while you spank your ass. The pleasure makes Momo sits harder, her thighs lock your head, forcing you to focus on licking her clit. You soon choked as you can't breathe properly.

 Your dick becomes harder due to the excitement, Momo feels it starts to pulse, push her head to the deepest, and you cum once you arrive at her deep throat, she cums all over your face simultaneously.

 "Fuck, that was nice Momo. Did you enjoy that as much as I did?"

 Momo is keep sucking your dick to clean you, she just replies with a thumbs up, showing that she enjoys your work too.

 You just rest on bed and let Momo do the jobs, soon you fell asleep as you are too tired today. Momo sees you are sleeping, then she gives your tip one more kiss, getting off all her clothes, and jump in the bed to sleep with you.

 Once you wake up is midnight already, you see Momo smiling while resting her head on your chest.

 "Morning, beautiful" I say as I start to wake up. "Oh, it's night, I'm sorry for falling asleep Momo. It was a long day."

 'Always thinking about naughty things don't you, horny boy.' Momo smirks while start stroking your dick.

 Momo rubs her eye and hugs you tighter. 'Never mind baby, but how are you going to compensate me for waking me up?' You kiss her forehead and you two start to have some conversation.

 'Are you going to leave now?' Momo suddenly asks when you are playing her tits.

 "Do you want me to leave? I guess it is pretty late. What if we went to your house. Had some more fun?"

 'What about we go to your place? I want to feel you better.' Momo whispers in your ear. 'But we should start round 1 here first.' Momo then climbs on you and ready to ride you.

 I give Momo a playful smack on the ass, "That’s sounds great Momo."

 Momo aligns her pussy with your dick, then starts riding you fiercely. She holds both of your hands on top of your head, and starts kissing your neck, making some hickeys.

 It feels so itchy, and you start moving your body. Momo slowly goes down to your chest, playing with your nipple. You are really turned on, start thrusting your hips upward, hope to get more pleasure.

 Soon you feel you are going to cum, it seems her workout has included her walls either, it keeps massaging you and you cannot hold too long.

 'Momo stop, I'm going to cum.' You ask Momo to stop, but she just ignores you, looking at you with an innocent face and riding faster.

 'Shit Momo, I am cumming, I am cumming' Your seed fills her pussy and she reaches the orgasm at the same time.

 I pull Momo into a kiss "Fuck you're amazing Momo." I grab her hips and have her grind on my cock.

 Momo just grinding on your cock, hoping to milk you. You are sensitive from orgasm, the pleasure that comes from Momo's wall makes you shiver. Momo just smirks can kiss you again.

 'So now, I am better or Nayeon is better? I bet she could not make you cum that fast.' Momo asks while she is still milking you.

 You feel like if you give the wrong answer, she would stop the pleasure immediately.

 "You're so good Momo, you're so good" I moan. "You're better."

 Momo was happy with your answer, she kiss you again and her walls milk you tighter. The sensation makes you moan again, and she just can't stop to smirk.

 'Really like my pussy don't you, how about going to your home for another round?’ Momo asks while caressing your ball.

 "Let's go then"

 'Let's go then.' You spank her ass and tell her to get changed.

 You and Momo help each other to wear the clothes while teasing each other. You hold Momo's hand when you are going to the carpark. Momo looks really happy that you two can act like a couple outside of the gym.

 However, Momo soon wears a scowl on her face when she gets in the car. You are wondering why she changes so sudden.

 'Y/N, did you lie to me that you are busy at work? I can smell it.' Momo asks before you while she is pointing at your steering wheel.

 "No, I was busy, very busy. I just couldn't help myself when I thought about getting to spend more time with you."

 'No, you lie. I can smell that you fucked another bitch on the car. You did not even clean the car before picking me up? You even cum on your steering wheel? So excited with that bitch huh?'

 Momo starts dropping tears while she is yelling at you. You don't want to see her crying, you wipe her tears and hold her hand. However, Momo just turns her head around.

 "You want me to explain what happened? Then I will" I proceed to explain the part of Sana masturbating in the car and causing me trouble all day, but that I didn't fuck her at all. "I'm sorry for lying but it’s just embarrassing to say that all that happened."

 You try to explain to Momo what happened today and hiding the fact that you have fucked Sana before.

 'I want to believe you too, but how come she will masturbate in your car if you two don't have any relationship. Or both of us are one of your girlfriends?'

 Momo seems calmed down but still questioning your response.

 "You are. I had to ask my neighbor for help on that situation. Look Momo, I don't exactly know what Sana's problem is but I'm only with you."

 Only with me, Nayeon not included huh?'

 Momo seems finally convinced by you and start to smile again.

 'Y/N, you know you are really attractive that every girls fall for you? I bet that girl must developed some feeling on you. I am glad that you did not tempt to fuck her.'

 Momo says while kiss your cheek.

 "Let's go Momo" I say while I drive home.

 Once you get off the car, you and Momo start to make out passionately, all the way back to your flat. You just barely close the door and start fuck Momo on the dining table.

 Momo give her everything to you after you have confirmed the relationship, her trained body brings so much fun to you through the night. You just end the fierce sex nearly the sunrise.

 You are woken up by the sensation from your shaft, 'Momo stop, you haven't had enough for yesterday?' But you soon feel strange, as Momo is still in your arms, Sleeping tightly.

 You rub your eye and look down, it is Mina that giving you the morning blowjob alarm.

 I carefully leave Momo's arms and pull Mina away covering her mouth so she doesn't make a noise. I drag us both to the other room and tell her to leave. "Mina, I appreciate you for waking me up but I need you to leave and meet me at the office. We'll have a "special" meeting there." Mina is confused but agrees when she hears about the meeting, leaving quickly and without a word. In the meantime, I make breakfast to cover for me leaving Momo in bed.

 You heading to the kitchen to make breakfast for Momo, while you text Mina again to make sure she won't return.

 After the breakfast was ready, you back to your room and wake up Momo.

 'It's morning already? I am so tired baby, can I sleep for a bit longer?' Momo seems refuse to wake up yet.

 "I guess you don't want to eat then." I tease. I kiss her forehead.

 You tease Momo by using food, 'No, honey, you can't eat it all, leave something to me.' You then hold Momo in your arms and bring her outside.

 You two share the breakfast like a newly married couple, Momo sitting on your lap while you two are feeding each other. You miss this feeling for a long time, perhaps you have stayed with Nayeon too long, and the passion is slowly missing.

 You kiss Momo for one more time before you are ready to get up, you are going to send her back before you go to work.

 'Honey, what do you think if I move in with you.' Momo asks shyly.

 "I think you're moving a bit too quickly. Give it time, let's see how things go between us. I want to love with you but we had that fight last night."

 Concerning things moving on too quickly and Nayeon could stay here at the weekend, you could only reject Momo. Momo just nods and does not say anything.

#minasaiyatis

#twice smut

#momo smut

#twice momo

#twice jihyo

#twice imagines

#kpop smut

#female idol smut

#girl group smut

[bitchy-craft]

SCAMMER ALERT

EDIT: she took more, 200 from me now

For every tarot reader on here or people who sell services in general. @ recoveringinternetaddict is a scammer.

She has ordered a lot of my tarot readings over the last couple of months and has been charging back everything the last few days; over 180 200 euro's so far and will most likely continue to charge back even more. This has brought me in a lot of trouble financially as one might guess.

She keeps coming with many excuses but isn't really doing anything to solve this even though she claims it 'was an accident'. Yet it isn't an accident > she even told PayPal it wasn't an accident (PayPal said so / hinted this through customer service mails). She has been doing the same with @tarotwithavi as well, who has also been charged back a significant amount of money so far. Edit: we found a 3rd person she did this too; @starryfree.

We both have been fighting these chargebacks with all the proof we have, but because she has done the chargebacks through her card holder PayPal isn't able to do anything, and that company will need to look at everything. This will take at least 180 calenderdays full of stress and uncertainty.

She is even claiming that her bank is taking more of our money because we provide proof that the chargebacks are false.

Please spread this information by liking, reblogging or commenting so the news will be spread to as many people as possible.

I know I am asking for a lot, but if you ever thought of getting a reading from me, it would be very kind to order one now so I can get out of this financial loss as quickly as possible. If anyone has any advice it would be greatly appreciated as well.

[zayneshottestgal]

Sylus dating a girly badass🐦‍⬛

Having a similar darker clothing style

Tries to suddenly match with you. If he sees you’re a fan of a certain brand/designer he will buy a few items that also suit his taste. If you point out how he didn’t seem to own pieces from that designer before and accuse him of copying you , he’ll tease and ask if you own the brand and can control who can wear it . he of course also buys you all the pieces you want from new drops and tells his henchman to keep a look out on any vintage pieces you’ve been struggling to find.

He thinks obvious matching outfits are too cheesy but also still has the desire to have that obvious sign that the two of you are together when out in public . Matching jewelry seems to do the trick. Matching rings and necklaces. If you have lots of ear piercing , and tattoos and tease him about the lack of his own . He would consider letting you pierce his ears. Tattoos he said he would think about ( he forgets).

“That designer you like is having a show here soon , is their space in your work schedule to go?”

“ do I think that jacket is too similar to your other one? I don’t see anything wrong with having a jacket that detailed if you think you don’t have enough clothes to go with it , we’ll go buy more”

“I left a gift on the desk in your suite consider wearing it tonight”

Having a detailed beauty regime

Most nights Sylus leaves you alone during your night routine but some nights he gets curious….. (*cough* clingy) . He seems like the type to have a effective but small skin care routine so your pamper nights look a little foreign to him

He teases you for it , calling you a true princess, a beauty rocket scientist , a professional beauty queen anything that flusters you and gets on your nerves . But honestly he’s happy to see you taking such detailed care of yourself and that you can still have your relaxing nights even at the n109 base.

He makes sure to keep all your things stocked and take notice of your preferences , which scents you like for soaps, which lotions you prefer to use , What goals you have for your skincare etc. he’ll read up on the methods you use and their benefits ( ex.dry brushing and milk baths) . He doesn’t want to ask and bother you but still wants to be informed.

If you suggest certain methods and products to add to his routine he will consider them sincerely. 9/10 he will implement them ,the 1/10 is if the method takes to much time or he just doesn’t like the product . But he trust your judgment full heartily and even comes to you for advice .

If you try to pamper him one day he will try to resist it but not for long . He thinks he should be the only one to spoil you but since you really wish to return the favor he cannot say no to you. I think he would be quite relaxed during the whole process, he doesn’t get to sit back and truly relax often ,so he’ll take advantage of it. He’ll try to thank you in a special way after especially since he has so much “extra” energy now.

“Is the beauty queen almost done with her routine?our flight in the morning is quite early.”

“Someone’s skin feels extra soft today ,any spare tips for a guy like me”

“What does this do? Hmm…that’s certainly interesting,they sell other varieties of this too right, do you only like this one ?”

Driving a motorcycle and having a sports car

Sylus likes that you also have a motorcycle it makes you more comfortable when riding on his . He also appreciates that if a deal goes bad you can drive the both of you home if he’s unable . He still keeps a helmet at his place so you don’t have to consistently take yours from off your bike just to ride on his. He makes sure your helmet is the highest quality and that your bike is in top shape .

If you have a sports car that you like driving around Sylus would have his men clear the roads in the east side of the N109 zone so that you could drive as fast as you wanted without traffic . He wouldn’t mind sitting in the passenger as you had your fun. He loved that you had that thrilling and adventurous side of you. He was proud that he had the resources to fuel that passion.

When you guys are parked for dates he has mephisto watch over your car . He never bothered doing that for his own car he didn’t care much if it got stolen/damaged he could buy another. But he knew your car meant a lot to you and was protective over it . “Your baby” as you call it. If it ever broke down and needed new parts he had the mechanic and new parts at the house within the next hour . He would not track you or have mephisto follow you around , all he ask is that you text him when you get home especially on those stormy nights . If you are leaving late at night to go back to linkon he insists on driving you himself just to make sure you get home safe . He’ll have one of his men follow you guys so that he can get home. The peace of mind is more then worth the trip.

“no one will steal your baby sweetie I have my men watching over it relax and enjoy the meal”

“ the mechanic said the new part was a perfect fit and that they can have it done within in an hour”

“No eating in the car because it makes a mess ? Sweetheart we’ve made worst messes in this car then just ketchup, I’ll hire a cleaner”

Caring for mephisto and the twins

You’ve grown to like mephisto and he seems to be warming up to you as well. Since he’s a mechanical bird you can’t really give him treats like you would a regular bird. But you still kiss the top of his head when he lands next to you and you thank him for watching over you when sylus can’t do it . Sylus will never admit but he is a bit jealous of his little crow . He made mephisto a custom bird stand for when he’s at your house so that he doesn’t have to perch on any old available surface . Sometimes mephisto lets you put bows on him. When he returns to Sylus to report to him ,Sylus slightly laughs at the bird with the big pink bow . “You’ve gone soft mephisto “ ( he’s projecting).

As for the twins sometimes when you’re back home at linkon or out on vacation with Sylus you bring them back souvenirs. They always appreciate them . They’ve gotten into the habit of waiting at the door when they know you and sylus are on your way home from the airport. You always hand them their gifts right away.

When you’re at sylus house and he’s busy with whatever ,you usually play with the twins. If they ever need any advice from a women’sperspective they always go to you . Even if they don’t need a women’s perspective just another perspective in general and it’s something they might be too shy to ask sylus they go to you. They truly see you as another leader and respect you just as much as sylus.

“ if I didn’t know any better I would think the twins were your henchmen”

“What were you and the boys talking about earlier, it’s a secret? Alright then”

“You want to take the twins AND mephisto with us on vacation. I guess since there’s room on the jet but don’t run back to me when they get you off track to see all the places you wanna go too”

(A.N) longest post I’ve written for love and Deepspace and it’s for sylus lol . I’ll make one for zayne too it’s wrong to abandon one husband for another . Let me know if you enjoyed it in the comments and what I can improve on . Thank you for reading .

-do not repost , translate my work (copy into A.I ) on to other websites . Please and thank you

[meazalykov]

new girl

kika nazareth x reader

summary: you never wanted to be vulnerable until she came along

trope: grumpy (reader) x sunshine (kika)

on the pitch, you were ruthless.

you were never afraid to accept a challenge, or do a tackle. the rock-hard mentality of yours never wavered.

you were given the captain role at an early age for your childhood club team-- accepting huge responsibility and holding others accountable for their faults was something you weren't scared of doing.

when barcelona offered you a contract to play for the B-team at 15, you accepted it. you were a ruthless defender and having you means that an oppositions striker wouldn't have a chance to score on you.

now at 21, you've grown into a reliable, if somewhat grumpy, presence on the senior team. however, you were the best defender in the world.

your serious demeanor on and off the field is well-known, and while you're never outright mean-- with your actions showing your teammates that you have a high level of respect for them-- your reserved nature keeps you at a tiny distance from them.

its the 24/25 season and the coach assigns you, patri, and keira to show the new girls around the place.

keira chose to help ellie around, patri chose to be with ewa, so you were chosen to be with kika nazareth-- a forward coming from benfica.

after showing her around the pitch, the media rooms, where the lounge area was-- you ended up in the locker rooms with her.

"so here is our last stop! this is the locker room-- your locker will be next to mine," you say, pointing to the empty space beside the locker where your blue cleats sat.

"thank you! i'm so excited to be here and get started." kika beams, her enthusiasm almost tangible.

"welcome to the team. if you need anything, just ask me or any of the captains." you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

over the next few weeks, kika's sunshine personality shines even brighter.

she greets everyone each morning with a smile, always has a positive word, and is the first to offer help or encouragement.

you find yourself drawn to kika's warmth, wanting to keep yourself around the fellow 21 year old-- even if you don't fully understand why.

in training, you started to notice how kika gravitated towards you, asking for advice or just chatting.

initially, you respond with your usual reserved tone. you wanted to stay focused on the training so you were on top of your game for there next match-- but kika's persistence starts to break down your walls.

in the locker rooms one day, you were finished chatting to ingrid and mapi about their future plans. they were talking about going to visit Ingrids family in norway during a week-long break, which you said that it would be good for them.

kika noticed that you were finished with your conversation with the couple, so she placed her hand on your shoulder to grab your attention before anyone else could.

"y/n, are you doing anything after this?" kika asked.

you looked at her with a light smile before turning away to put your cleats in the locker, "no, why?"

"do you want to go grab a coffee?" kika asks, a little hesitant that you might reject her offer.

"sure, I guess. coffee sounds good." you say before standing up and headed towards the doors.

kika watched you with knitted eyes before you turned around at the door, "are you coming?" you smirked.

"oh- yes!" kika jumped up and followed you out the doors.

your post-practice coffee runs with kika become a routine.

kika starts to talk about her family, her dreams, and her love for the game right away-- while you listen.

after a few weeks, you start to slowly open up about your own experiences. the way that kika kept her full attention on you while you spoke was something that you silently appreciated.

"you know, I've been admiring how dedicated you are to the team. I used to see it from another teams perspective and go, "damn she's tough." but now I realize how much you love and care for us." kika says one evening.

your eyes twinkle at this. if you had to pinpoint it, maybe this was the moment where you started to fall for the portuguese. nobody has made an effort to compliment you in such an unique way.

"thank you, kika. you've been pretty amazing since you've gotten here. you are breath of fresh air that we've needed." you smile.

giving out verbal compliments weren't your thing, and kika seemed to notice that. you liked to express your liking for people through physical actions and gift giving. the portuguese's heart fluttered knowing that you're opening yours up for her.

another month goes by and its the beginning of 2025. the team begins to notice the change in you. you still maintain your serious persona, but with kika, you seem different—softer, happier.

the way you smile at kika, the way your eyes light up when kika enters the room, it becomes clear to everyone that there's something special between you two.

they're aware that they'll have to bring it up to you sometime, just to get clarification on your relationship with the girl, but they're content with observing for a bit.

during a particularly tough champions league match against PSG, you were frustrated.

after VAR cancelled a goal you scored due to a foul, and barcelona nearly conceding a goal thanks to an error from you-- you just wanted something good to happen for your team.

the score is 2-2, with the aggregate being 3-2 in favor of barcelona. you needed to make sure that psg didn't score, and you needed to create a chance for one of your forwards to score as well.

at the 60th minute, kika is subbed in for salma.

not even three minutes later, kika makes an impact.

aitana passed the ball back to you and you found kika up-top and on-side ready to receive a pass.

you shot the ball towards her and kika headed the ball behind the net, scoring the winning goal.

the team celebrates, but it's you who sprints to her first, lifting her up in a rare display of open joy.

"kika!!!" you screamed in joy as she holds you.

"what a great assist." kika says, focusing on you as the rest of the team joins for a group hug.

"don't give me all of the credit, you made a great header. ugh what a star!" you say.

the rest of the team is smiling in joy seeing the two of you. they're aware that your bond, emotionally, is passed the platonic stage-- but its a sight to see you so radiant and optimistic.

a week later, you invited kika over to your apartment. this is new, considering you never invited any of the barcelona girls over unless there was an event you were throwing.

kika and you were going to bake a few things while watching a new netflix show season that was released.

little did you know, kika was going to ask you something important.

"y/n, can I ask you something?" kika says, sitting down on your soft couch beside you.

you turn your head towards her, giving her a light smile as your eyes twinkled with a tiny bit of fear.

"of course, kika. what's on your mind?" you respond.

"do you ever think about... us? I mean, us being more than just friends?" she says, clenching her teeth together as she is nervous about a possible rejection.

"I do, actually. I've been every-night since the beginning of the season. kika, you're the first person who’s made me feel... alive in a long time." you look at her, the vulnerability in kika's eyes mirroring your own feelings.

kika reaches out, taking your hand in hers. "i feel the same way. you make me feel safe and loved."

"well, would me being your girlfriend make you feel more loved?" you squeeze her hand, a smile spreading across your face as you pull her body towards yours.

"yes it would, can I be your girlfriend?" kika smiles as her head rests inside of your neck.

its not the first time you've cuddled with kika like this, but it feels special now that she is your girlfriend.

"yes my love." you kiss the top of her head softly.

as a year goes by being with your girlfriend, you find yourself opening up more, your grumpiness tempered by kika's unwavering positivity.

kika, in turn, finds strength in your steady and strong presence, knowing she always has someone to lean on.

your teammates, patri claudia and cata in particular, often joke about how kika is the only one who can make you smile so effortlessly--but it's clear to everyone that your love has made you both better, on and off the field.

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Hiya there! I hope you're having a good day when you're reading this, and if not, that's fine too! I fell in love with your detailed prompts and tips, so I'm wondering if you have any advice on how to write late nights where a character has to force their partner to take care of themself because they've been too engrossed in work.

I'm struggling to envision how one might care for someone when they're both tired, so your expertise is greatly appreciated. No need to rush anything here, so take as much time as you need to answer any other questions other people might have for you, and thank you in advance! :]

Hiya :)

Such a polite ask, I'm so happy you fell in love with what I do. I hope I can help you with your question.

How to write taking care of a tired partner

First, you should set the scene:

Describe the environment they are in, where is the tired partner working, where is the concerned partner and what are they doing?

Describe the atmosphere. How is the lighting, is it quiet? What sounds can be heard?

The caring partner:

You could start by them casually asking if there is anything they can do, or when the partner thinks they are finished with work. Backing off when their partner still seems adamant to work.

The caring partner is busy as well, but you could write them keeping themself busy and awake - first, by quietly reading a book, playing on their phone, then going over to tidying up, doing the dishes, etc. Still careful not to disturb their working partner, but with enough noise that it's heard.

Then, standing in the doorway, looking at their hardworking partner, wondering how to approach best.

Taking action:

Gently interrupting their partners work, the caring partner approaches quietly, not wanting to startle or disrupt too much. Placing a hand on their partner’s shoulder or gently call their name.

Offering small, comforting gestures: offering a tea, a blanket, a snack, a quick cuddle.

Trying not to be overbearing, but showing their love and also concern.

Being gentle, but firm in emphasizing that they need some rest.

An initial resistance turns into a sweet moment of shared comfort between both tired partners.

Dialogue Prompts:

"Even you need a little a rest from time to time."

"Come on, let's take a short break together and then you can successfully finish this."

"Do you want some company to get you through this?"

"Here, I made you some tea. Would you like a snack as well?"

"You're under a lot of pressure. Just know that I am here for you."

"Let's finish this up, so we can cuddle in bed soon."

I hope this is helpful for you!

- Jana

[tbaluver]

So have an odd request for the L&DS men but bear with me. I'm kind of in a grieving process rn bc I just suddenly lost someone I love. MC also grieves in the main story so I request some comfort drabbles about the L&DS men consoling you while grieving if that's ok.

Consoling You While You Grieve- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: comfort a/n: hi lovely, i'm so sorry for your loss. i know i may not have the perfect words right now, but im here for you. if you ever need to talk, vent, or just have someone to listen, don't hesitate to reach out. take all the time you need, and remember that you don't have to go through this alone. sending you all the strength and love during this difficult time ♡ ̆̈ and that also applies to anyone that is also going through a tough time right now! any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Once you told Xavier, he would hold you tightly. The type of hug that is comforting and the one that feels like he’s never going to let you go and that everything is going to be okay. He’s a good listener, never interrupting you, and offering his best advice as much as he could. If you needed some fresh air, he’d take you for a walk, holding your hand.

All Xavier knew is that he needed to be there for you no matter what and he didn't leave your side for a second. He’ll show up unannounced with favorite snacks, food, or distractions. He’ll bring in some new plushies he got from the claw machine to bring some comfort. He’ll bring some board games or new movies you both can do to distract you and he’ll wrap you both in a blanket.

All Xavier knew is that he needed to be there for you, never leaving your side. He’d show up unannounced with your favorite snacks, comforting food, or anything to distract you. He’d bring new plushies from the claw machine for extra comfort, board games, or new movies to keep you occupied. And he’d make sure you were both wrapped up in a cozy blanket.

He lets you cry for as long as you need, whether it took hours or more. He didn’t mind at all. You could stay in his arms or on his lap while you let it all out. He wanted to be someone you could lean on during this tough time.

He lets you cry for as long as you needed even if it were hours, he did not care. He’ll let you stay in his arms or his lap while you let it all out. He’ll be and want to be someone you can lean on during this tough time.

Zayne:

He would pull you into a comforting hug the moment you tell him what happened, placing his chin on your head as he rubs comforting circles on your back. He lets you cry it out as you sob into his torso.

He can tell you weren’t okay no matter how many times you told him. He can read you a little too well from the expression on your face.

He’ll do anything and everything he can to make sure you’re okay. He’ll come to your place unannounced almost every day, bringing your favorite takeout and bakery treats to make sure you’re eating well. He’ll stay and eat with you and sometimes he’ll even feed it to you to make sure you are full.

He'll let you cry it out all you want and he'll brush off any stray tears that came running down randomly. He'll make sure you drink enough water so you stay hydrated during this time.

He’ll make sure you’re getting some rest even though it might be difficult too during this time. When you are in deep sleep, he’ll slip out of bed to wash your dishes or tidy up any parts of the house to help you around a bit. He'll slip back into bed with you, enveloping you in a embrace so you don't wake up alone.

He is a good listener and he’ll do his best to comfort you whether through his actions or through his words. He’ll understand that you would want some space and he’ll respect that but he will check up on you once in a while to make sure you’re okay.

Rafayel:

He knows what loss is like and he knows it too well and that's something he would never wanted you to encounter.

He'll hold you the way he's always wanted to be held when no one was there for him. He cradled you in his arms, your head nested in the crook of his neck as you sobbed quietly.

He'll understand and accept any reaction that you had whether it was crying or feeling like you were numb or any anger. He doesn't take any of them personally but rather he was understanding. He'll try his best to distract you with things by taking you anywhere that would cheer you up.

He'll take you to the beach that might offer a temporary escape from your grief or doing some light activities with him.

He'll do whatever it takes to cheer you up even if suggest going to a cat cafe. He'll hide away his pout and scared expression so you weren't worried about him.

If you were comfortable with it, he'll help you find a way to honor or remember the person you've lost. He'll try his best to create a portrait or he'll help you make a collage that shares their stories or memories you had with that person.

Sylus:

He is immediately beside you, uttering sweet words that were dripping like honey as you cry into his chest. He brushes away your tears and help you calm down with his soothing voice, offering you advice and reminders. He would have no complaints that of the stains of tears on his clothes.

He'll always be right by your side, whether that means holding you in his arms or keeping your hands interlocked.

He encourages you often to lean literally and figuratively lean on him. He'll be your rock through this entire your process. He'd let you talk about it no matter how many times you have repeated it to him. He'll listen and listen and he'll talk about it with you.

He doesn't let you out of his sight. Like Mephisto is always watching you through your window and will notify Sylus if you weren't taking care of yourself properly. If he was away on business, he'll arrange for food to be delivered to you. When he was available, he'll call you to make sure you were doing alright.

If you have trouble sleeping, he'll hold you close and softly hum until you relax against him and drift off. Once you wake up, he'll still be beside you, until you're ready to get up. He'll join you in your self-care routine, even if it meant wearing those silly headbands, to help you maintain it and ensure you don't neglect your health.