#saying “hes still sleeping” in the softest voice like okay

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Bed Snatchers

Simon had texted you that he had gotten home from Mexico about midnight. When you finished your night at the café you were careful to enter the flat quietly. You might still wake him with how jumpy he could be after jobs. Wincing as you lock the front door you remove your shoes as softly as you can, setting them on the floor instead of letting them flop like you normally would. Turning on the flashlight of your phone you dim it as much as you can and still cover it with your fingers to not disturb anyone that might have slid home with him.

More and more often the guys would come home with Simon. You were about to suggest everyone going in on a house rental together because at least then you were always guaranteed to have somewhere to lay down after work. Glancing into the living room you see a lump of a body on the couch. Stepping lightly into the room you think it’s John. A raucous snore rips through the room. Yep. That’s John.

Letting a pip of light peak through your fingers you see he has not blanket on. Once that problem is resolved you head toward your room. The door is cracked. Must be more than John who came home with Simon then.

Pushing the door open you see two bodies sprawled across your bed. Letting a tad more light shine from your phone you squint and see Kyle and Gary almost fighting for space on your bed. You let the smile that forces its way to your lips stay. Leaving the men to their sleeping battle you grab a set of pajamas and head into the hall bathroom.

Leaving the lights off, your phone light reflects off the bowl of the sink as you change. Dropping your clothes into your basket in the bathroom you move to knock on Simon’s door. Tapping lightly you wait. He would wake.

Less than twenty seconds later the door pops open, and Simon blinks in the dim light.

“The couch and my bed are both taken, can I sleep with you tonight?”

“Johnny is here, but there is room.”

Rubbing your eyes you follow Simon and turn off your flashlight. Simon puts a hand on your elbow, leading you into the bed before him. Pulling up the blankets you slide in until you run into Johnny, then back up slightly.

The touch must have woken him. Johnny reaches out and pulls you close.

“Ah, bonnie, no Simon.”

He is not wearing a shirt. You had never seen Johnny shirtless, but he felt warm and lightly covered with hair.

Simon climbs in behind you, settling an arm across both of you. Something about that tickled something in your brain but sleep already lulled you with her melodies.

When you woke it was because you were too warm.

Tucked tight to Simon’s chest you watch his hand drift across Johnny’s still-sleeping face.

“When did that happen?” You whisper, careful not to wake your sleeping friend. 

“This last mission. Mexico was…hard.”

“I’m happy for you.”

You really are, even if part of you yearns for every one of these crazy men to be yours always. That would be entirely too selfish. You were lucky to have them as you did, sharing kisses for luck and driving business to your shop. Selfish wasn’t a thing you could ever allow yourself to be. You didn’t dare ask for anything from them.

You had learned in your early twenties that you were asexual, much to the frustration of every partner you had. After a while you had stopped looking for any kind of romantic love, it was too twined up in sex for so many people that staying single was easier.

Simon pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thanks. When are you going to end up happy?”

The question stabbed you between the ribs.

“Who says I’m not?”

“You don’t have a partner, don’t most people want that?”

“Most people aren’t okay that I only want sex when I’m ovulating so, no I guess I don’t want that,” your voice rose a bit.

Johnny’s eyes slid open, taking in you tucked into Simon’s arms. The softest smile you had ever seen on the man warmed your heart to the point of pain.

“Morning lass, how did you end up here?”

His voice, morning-deep, taking some extra work to decipher.

“Kyle and Gary were sleep fighting in my bed. Simon at least has a king-sized mattress.”

“What time did you get in?” He blinked at you as if fighting waking.

“Three.”

He reached out and pulled you across the bed; Simon’s hands drifted with you.

“Simon is an earlier riser, stay here and sleep with me.”

Settling against Johnny was different than with Simon. Johnny didn’t seem to mind the full body contact, twining of limbs, or manhandling you until you sat just right in his arms. Snug against him, in the darkness of the blinds, you slid back to sleep, but not before feeling the bed dip as Simon placed a kiss against your temple and Johnny’s lips. He left the room quiet as a mouse.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[sapitties]

so much I can say about this clip I feel like I'm gonna explode

[imaginaryf1shots]

His Girlfriend | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 7.4K

Lewis Hamilton x Verstappen!reader

Max Verstappen x reader!sister

PART 1

Summery: After your fall out with Max you try to find yourself.

Warnings: age gap(age not specified) mention of abuse, Jos Verstappen is an a-hole, Max is also an ass, bad childhood, bad father, cursing, alusion to smut but no actual smut

AN: So much love for the first part, I read all the comments and took them into consideration, hope you like this, and the ending. It’s a bit different from what I had in mind when I first started this.

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Max goes back to his room with Kelly, he’s a robot walking. Going on autopilot. Kelly is surprised when she sees him back so soon, she expected that she'll have to have to call him and ask when he’ll be back for him to leave you. He had been saying how he hadn’t been spending as much time with you lately.

“Why are you back so early?” Kelly asks but it was like she was talking to herself, Max went to the bed and sat down, his gaze was on the floor, before he placed it in his hands with his elbows on his knees. “Max?”

Max slides his hands up to his hair and pulls at the strands, Kelly stands in front of him, and he looks up at her and shakes his head slightly. “Fuck, Kelly, I fucked up, I fucked up badly.”

“What happened? Did you fight?” Kelly asks gently, taking his hands in hers.

“Did you know who she’s dating?” Max asked and Kelly shook her head.

”No, she said that you'd get mad if I knew and didn’t tell you.” She’s frowning at the state Max is in. “Do you know?”

”It’s fucking Hamilton.” Max mutters and his eyes well up with tears that he doesn’t allow to escape, tears of frustration and tears of anger.

“As in Lewis Hamilton?” Kelly asks for confirmation and Max nods his head with a small yeah. “What happened? What did you do?”

“I said some messed up stuff, how could I be so… so cruel to her.” Kelly sits down besides him and pulls him in for a hug, Max sounded so broken, he falls easily into her embrace.

”I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you say sorry.” Max shakes his head, and Kelly doesn’t know if it’s a ‘no’ for the fact you won’t forgive him, or he won’t say sorry. “Okay, just when you’re both calm you can talk about it, y/n, loves you too much to stay angry at you for long.”

Max doesn’t say anything and just lets her hold him, all his anger bubbled down to nothing but heartbreak.

Lewis texted you when he was done with his meeting but you didn’t reply, but he made his way to your room anyways, you could be in the bathroom or didn’t hear your phone. When he walks in he sees the only light on is the lamp by the sofa, and he sees your figure on the bed under the covers. He moves slowly in case you’re sleeping, he goes to the side of the bed you sleep on. Only when he’s so close to you does he notice your shoulders shaking.

”Baby, hey, what happened?” Lewis says in the softest of voices, his hand lands on your shoulder and he kneels beside the bed, you slowly look up at him and he sees how distraught you are. He saw you crying a couple of times, mostly after a rough day with Jos bothering you, but he’s never seen you like this. Your face is as red as a tomato, wet with tears and puffy eyes and hiccuping. Lewis gets up and opens his arms for you. “Come here.” He sits on the bed and you just fall into his arms, the only arms in the world right now that could give you comfort. Lewis holds you and shushes you until you calm down. Once you’re calm enough he asks you what happened, and you just spill everything, Lewis stays silent through the whole thing, but his eyes go to the watch he forgot and guilt consumes him. He knew how worried you were about Max finding out about the two of you, he wanted to be there with you when you told him, and now your relationship with your brother cracked.

”Let’s get out of here.” Lewis suddenly says and you look up at him, tears still slipping out of your eyes every now and then.

”W-What?”

”Let’s get out of here, where do you want to go? It’s officially summer break and we can do and go wherever we want.” Lewis has the smallest smile, you shake your head no.

”No, we can’t just leave.” You blink a couple times, trying to understand where he’s coming from.

”y/n, love, you’ve always been where Max is, and you told me before you want to try and do things on your own, now is the perfect time, a month of just you and me, we can do whatever we want, no plans, nothing, just us trying whatever we want whenever we want, freedom.”

”That does sound nice.” You say and Lewis kisses your cheek softly.

”Yeah? You’re up to it?” Lewis asks cupping your cheeks, it takes you a moment before you give in and say yes. “Let’s go then.”

”Wait now?”

”Yes now! What better time than now.”

”I guess you’re right.”

And Lewis was true to his word, he took you wherever you wanted and did whatever you wanted. It was so liberating, waking up and wanting to do something to just do it without second guessing yourself. Your phone was turned off all that time, you called your mum and assured her you're fine and you'll be off grid for the summer break. She could tell that something was wrong and when she asked you, you just told her that you had a fight with Max and to not tell him that you called.

Max did call her asking if she saw you and she said no, leaving him confused, you had nowhere to go but Monaco or go back to your mother's house. Victoria also gave him no answer, he had a feeling you were with Lewis but Lewis was posting on his Instagram and was online and there was no sign he was with anyone. He was also doing things Max didn't think you'd like.

Lewis's phone was filled with photos of you both but those were for you both only, you also got a camera and it was filled with all the memories you both made, memories you want to hold onto forever. Lewis took you skydiving, he took you surfing, he took you diving, he took you racing with street cars, he took you karting, he even took you caving. You went from one country to the other, he even took you home to the UK and you met his family, you met his nieces and Roscoe. Everyone was very welcoming to you, and you weren't the only one giving love you were receiving as you were giving and it was a nice feeling, a feeling you didn't know how much you missed until you felt it. Lewis's family dynamics is so different from the one you grew up in, his parents are divorced but the divorce didn't affect his family like it affected yours, his parents are civil and respectful and Lewis grew up with love and positivity even when they had nothing.

”What are you thinking about?” Lewis asks softly, you’re both in a bathtub in the Maldives enjoying a relaxing time after surfing for hours, the sun has yet to set. Your hands were on Lewis’s thighs near his knees, his arms resting on the sides of the tub. You hummed softly before you leaned your head to the side and up to be able to see his face.

”You.” A soft laugh escapes his lips and you smile, feeling the vibration of his laugh against your back.

”What are you really thinking about?” Lewis asks again and you breath in and out slowly, still looking at him.

“You.” You say again and if asked you a thousand times you’d still say him, he’s all you think about, he’s consuming your thoughts and your feelings, he’s all you can feel and all you can smell, he’s filling your senses and you don’t want him to stop. Lewis’s nose nudges yours softly and he leans in capturing your lips in his own in a passionate kiss, you cup his face feeling his beard before your hands moves to his loose hair out of the braids or twists he has while he races, you tug slightly making him groan, his hand moves to your back to pull you closer. “You’re all I think about.” You manage to say between kisses, turning in the tub so you’re straddling him. Your hands moving from his chest to his shoulders. Lewis nibbles on your bottom lip soft sighs leaving your lips, the kisses slow down and Lewis pulls back only a fraction.

”You’re all I think about too, all of you love.” Lewis says and his hands move from your waist, one up to your neck the other down to your butt.

Let’s say you both came out of the tub when the water was no longer warm, it was far too cold when you stepped out of it.

The summer break was over and Lewis was in the paddock and racing. For the first time in your life you’ve missed a race that Max was in, it caused your anxiety to kick off but there’s no way you’d be back and support him after what he said. So you gathered your things from the small Monaco apartment custody of Max, and flew to your mother’s house, also custody of Max, but it was either that or to move in with Lewis. He did offer but you wanted to wait, your relationship already progressed faster than normal, and you wanted to think about what you want to do in your life. Spending your time with Lewis made you realise how much your life revolved around your brother and it’s now time for you to find your own thing, it’s overdue.

You discover from your mum and sister that they still don’t know what happened and besides telling them that Max said some hurtful things you don’t elaborate. This is between you and your brother and you know for a fact they’ll both get upset with him if they know the whole thing, And after everything you still care about him. You also found out that your father is pissed that you dropped off the face of the earth and no one was informed of it before, not because he cared about you but because you were the one managing Max’s social media and they had to scramble to find a replacement for you in a record time.

After a race where Lewis finished 2nd you called him to congratulate him and you guys facetimed for hours.

”Have you thought about what you want to do?” Lewis asked you, he was going through some of his clothes to find an outfit for the dinner he was having with his LH team.

”I’m not 100% sure yet, but I want to do something with racing. I've thought about a lot of things but racing has always been my life and even though I’m not a driver I want to be in motorsport one way or another.” You tell him laying on your bed with your phone propped up against a spare pillow to show you. “The other shirt looked better.”

”This one?” Lewis asked, holding the sage green shirt he was holding, you hum and he places it on the bed. “We can think of something, motorsport is always in the need of jobs, we can both think about it.” There’s a moment of comfortable silence before Lewis remembers something. “Did you tell your mum about me?”

”Not yet, I will before the next time I fly to see you.” You tell him, your mum has been curious but she isn’t pushy, when she saw you weren’t up to it she didn’t press further.

”And when is that?” Lewis asked, picking up his phone, it’s been three weeks since you last saw each other, not a lot of time, but since you first met you haven’t been away from each other for that long.

“When do you want me?” You ask him moving onto your stomach and place the phone against the headboard.

”Yesterday.” You couldn’t help but giggle, a smile stretches against Lewis’s lips. “Do you want to come to the next race? See how it is inside Mercedes before we go to Ferrari next year.”

You absolutely love how it’s ‘we’ and not ‘me’ you’re both going to Ferrari in Lewis’s mind. “That’ll make me the person that went to three different garages in the smallest amount of time.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that two of them are because of me.” Lewis was now laying on his back one arm resting on his head, the other one holding his phone up. “But seriously, do you want to come to the US with me?”

”I don’t know.” You mumble suddenly not sure, you weren’t ready to see Max yet, and you don’t know when and if you’ll ever be ready.

”Hey, if you’re not ready, that's alright, you can come whenever you’re ready.” Lewis the ever understanding man that he is comforts you. “You can also come and we’ll find a way to sneak you in without anyone seeing you.”

”No, no it’s okay.” You say nodding to yourself, maybe going and facing whatever comes your way is the best thing to do to get over what happened, you won’t be able to avoid your brother forever, he is after all your brother. “We don’t have to hide, I miss the paddock anyway.”

”Believe it or not but the fans miss you too.”

”Miss me?” You ask him confused, you haven’t really been online much.

”Yeah, #wheresy/n was trending all week.” Lewis informs you amused and you laugh at that.

“Really?” You ask intrigued.

”Yeah, the first race you missed, fans have pointed it out and you weren’t there for the Dutch Grand Prix so that made them wonder even more.” Lewis heard Max being asked about you but he didn’t answer the question and just dodged it, but Lewis wasn’t about to tell you that. He also wasn’t about to tell you that Max hasn’t said a word to him, not that they were ever talkative but Lewis was on the podium with Max and Max usually talks with whoever is on the podium with him. But Lewis would take a silent Max over an angry Max for your sake any day of the week.

And so you packed your bags, met Lewis in the UK airport before you flew together to the US. You always loved the Austin GP, but experiencing everything with Lewis felt different. It felt new. Lewis’s team were informed of you and they were ready for the media storm heading your way once you hit the paddock with Lewis and not Max after dispersing for almost two months.

You got dressed with Lewis for the media day, not in team kits not in RedBull colours but in an all new outfit that fits you and who you want to be, also an outfit that’s worthy of Lewis Hamilton’s girlfriend.

Walking in the paddock, all the cameras turned to you both, Lewis had his hand laced in yours. Uncaring for all the screaming and shouting from fans and camera men alike. Everyone was shocked to see you both together. There was no hint, no rumours, no sightings, no nothing.

“Are you okay?” Lewis asked in your ear so you’d be able to hear him clearly.

”I’m alright.” You say and give him a smile, and the poker face he had melted into a smile.

By the time you reached the Mercedes hospitality, you were sure the whole grid heard of you coming with Lewis. The hospitality was different from RedBull, Lewis had to go change and get ready for the media, so you were left with one of his team members, she showed you around. Took you to the garage and everything, she pointed to Lewis's driver room, and everything. You sat with his team while he went to do his duties.

Lewis was on for the sofa press interview this week, Max wasn’t so that was good for him. Lando, Yuki, Charles, Logan and Lewis were the ones doing it for the day. Lewis was in between Lando and Charles.

Charles was already there when Lewis turned up, they were talking to each other before Lando came and took the other seat besides Lewis, he was fresh with gossip that he wanted to confirm.

”Lewis, mate, is it true?” Lando was a bit giddy with the information, like a small kid who was about to be told Santa is real.

”What are you talking about?” Charles was the one to ask, he felt like there’s gossip that he wants to be in on.

”Lewis and y/n.” Lando whispered and had his head tilted so none of the media could see his lips moving. Lewis smiled and Charles looked at his future teammate with wide eyes.

”Verstappen?” Charles had to be sure they’re talking about the same person.

”Yep.” Lewis said popping the ‘p’ he looked overly happy with himself, Lando laughed and patted his shoulder.

“That came out of nowhere.” Lando commented and Lewis shrugged.

”Not really.” That caught their attention again.

”Since when?” Charles asked.

”Most of the season.”

”Wow.” Was all Lando could say.

”And Max?”

“Not happy.” Lando is close friends with Max, he’s bound to know and Charles is the biggest gossip with Pierre; they know everything going on in the paddock. Charles also knew y/n for most of his life. Everyone that ever raced against Max when they were karting knew the female, she’s always been there, not just nice to Max and his teammates but his rivals as well, especially when they were kids.

”That’s going to be tough.” Charles mumbled.

”Yeah, y/n has been going through it.” Lewis informed them the smile on his face was gone, he’s seen first hand how much it affected you. Max has been the number one person in your life for as long as you could remember.

“Poor girl.” Lando knows how much Max can get when he’s not happy.

Before the trio could go on further they were interrupted by the conference starting. Both will head to Mercedes to see you after, you’ve been friends with a lot of the drivers, seeing the ones that live in Monaco a lot.

Back in the Mercedes garage, someone came and told you that Max was waiting for you by the front. You sighed and stood up, knowing your brother he wasn’t about to leave until he could see and talk to you. So as to not cause a scene you just went to see him, it was bound to happen anyways.

Your brother did not look happy or comfortable standing there, the Merc crew were giving him some looks, but he didn’t shy away from them. His eyes saw you and followed you as you came out of the garage. You both moved a bit to the side, barely out of shot of prying ears.

You both faced each other in silence for a long moment, it felt awkward and unnatural. Something you both felt for the first time ever with each other.

”What do you want Max?” You ended up being the first to speak, otherwise it felt like you’d just stand there for hours.

”You disappeared.” Max said, you crossed your arms and took a deep breath.

”Yeah, I had to.” You tell him frowning. Max swallows and nods to himself.

”I was worried, didn’t know where you were, what you were doing.” Max tells you and you don’t doubt that he was worried for you, but it didn’t matter anymore.

”I told mum that I was okay.”

”Yes, but we’ve never not talked for that long.” Max’s voice may have betrayed him a little there because you heard how hurt he is.

“And who’s fault is that, Max?” You ask him, moving your hand around.

”Not mine.” You scoff at his words rolling your eyes. “y/n, we were fine before you started seeing him, he’s the problem not me.”

“Were we fine? Really? Because I’ve never felt better or happier than when I’m with Lewis.” Max had to take a moment to process your words, and he’s trying not to get angry.

”I thought you were happy?”

”I thought so too, but it looked like we were both wearing rose coloured glasses.” You tell him honestly. “Max, I’ve been following you around my whole life, helping you in any way I can, and I’ve loved it, I wanted to, but you’re old now and you’ve achieved your dreams and what about me? What have I done? What have I achieved? What's my name?”

”You never said any of that before, I thought you were happy with me, with the team.” Max was really having a hard time accepting what you were saying, but he knew that it’s true and valid, and if he accepts them as truth would mean he’s the worst brother ever for not releasing any of this.

”Max, I was happy, but it wasn’t easy for me and dad hasn’t been making it easy for me, I had to get away from this.”

“What does dad have to do with this?”

”You can’t be serious?” You chuckle dryly and roll your eyes. “Even RedBull employees have noticed hell Hemlut told dad to keep out of the garage, Max dad has been abusive to me, to us, I’ve always tried to protect you from it and not make it as hard, but you have to have seen it or felt it.” Max’s face was blank and that made you scoff. “Fucking hell, Max, the first day Lewis and I talked he saw the bruises he knew, how could you have not known? Or you chose to ignore it.”

”No, no I didn’t, I…” Max didn’t know what to say, you looked at him and he looked at you before he turned around and just left. You stood there stunned for a moment, shaking your head before you turned back to look at the Mercedes garage.

“y/n!” Someone calls your name and you look only to find Lily running towards you with Alex trailing behind, you open your arms for the golfer and pull her in for a hug. You’ve always had a good relationship with Alex from when he was Max’s teammate and thus you met Lily and formed a good relationship with her. After sharing a long hug with her you greeted Alex and you stood talking for a while, catching up, confirming the paddock rumours, and having a laugh. Lando was the first person to join you, before Kika and Alexandria did as well. And so some people joined some left but this spot near Mercedes you stood talking to everyone.

By the time you were back in the garage it was time for lunch, Lewis was in his room after he came, said hello and left you with your friends. You knock on his door hearing a come in, you open the door and walk in.

“Hi.” You say softly and make your way to the sofa he was sitting on, you lay down your head in his lap and close your eyes.

”Hi.” Lewis’s hands move to your hair to run through them and you close your eyes. “I heard Max came around.” You hum but don’t say anything or open your eyes. “Want to talk about it?”

You tell him what happened between the two of you, all the while he’s nodding and giving you one word answers, by the time you’re done, you’ve sat up and Lewis has one hand on your knee in comfort.

“Well, love, I think you just give him time, he needs to process everything.” Lewis knows that you want to fix whatever’s been broken between you and Max. “In a few days or a week he’ll call you and you’re going to have to talk again, he wants to fix this as much as you do.”

”I don’t know.” You mumble.

”I know, trust me.” Lewis says and raises your chen so he can meet your eyes.

”I trust you.” You say and lean in to peck his lips.

Well Lewis was wrong, Max didn’t come to talk to you in a few days or a week, Max came after a few hours. You were in the room you shared with Lewis after the long day you had on track, you already showered and dressed in one of Lewis’s shirts and panties, not planning on seeing anyone or going out.

So when you heard someone knock on the door, Lewis went to see who, he was dressed in some basketball shorts and didn’t have a shirt on, his braids out of the twist he does at the back of his head.

“y/n.” Lewis called your name, making you get off the bed and towards the door, walking out of the bedroom of the suite you see Max standing there glaring at your boyfriend while Lewis was looking at you, not seeing the looks your brother is sending him.

”Max… I didn’t expect to see you here.” You say surprised and confused. “Come in.” You look at Lewis for approval, it is his room after all, but just steps aside for Max to enter. You sit on the sofa and Max sits across from you, you look at Lewis wanting him to come sit with you.

”Can’t we talk alone?” Max asked and you look at him, the words ‘yes’ at the tip of your tongue, a force of habit that’s proving harder to break than you’d expect.

”No, I think it’s about time we talk, all three of us.” You end up telling him instead, Lewis throws on a shirt before joining you on the sofa, his knee hitting yours. Max isn’t happy about Lewis joining you but he has no say in it. “Why did you come? We talked today.”

”I know, but it- I just feel like we still have so much to say still.” Max says and you nod, for him to go on. “y/n, look I spoke with mum and she made me realise a lot of things, I’m sorry that I didn’t realise how much dad has been hurting you, I don’t know how I didn’t realise it before.”

”It’s because she’s been doing it for years.” Max looks irritated that Lewis spoke but he bit his tongue and said nothing. “You got used to it, it didn’t trigger anything inside of you.”

“That may be true, I just… I should’ve realised how much of an ass he is to you.” Max couldn’t meet your eyes, you take a moment to know what you want to say to him, not wanting to make or do or say anything just based on your emotions because you know your emotions will always choose him over you.

“Look whatever happened with dad happened, and I’ll never hold that over you and or blame you, it was all my choices and my actions and I’ve lived with it and I’m over it.” You tell him and Lewis takes you hand in his, you look to your side and see his soft supportive smile, you squeeze his hand and smile a little. “What I want is for us to get over whatever it is that’s bothering you about me being with Lewis.”

”And deciding to do what you want.” Lewis adds and you both look at him a bit confused, Lewis sighs, it looks to him like as much as you’ve both realised there’s still so many things in your dynamics that needs to be realised and fixed. “From what I understood, it looks like Max is upset that you’re doing things not with him or doing things for yourself without going back to him.”

You and Max look at each other and you go back to your conversation earlier that day and you realise that what Lewis is saying is true.

“No, look, whatever you want to do we’ll do it, you gave up so much to help me and support me and I’ll do the same for you.” Max says. “I want what’s best for you, yes I’d prefer if it’s you being with me, but whatever you want I’m okay with it.”

”Just not being with Lewis.” You state and Max looks at Lewis and sighs.

”I don’t think I’ll ever be happy or approve, but you look happy and Lando told me you’ve done so much… but why does it have to be him?” Max sounded desperate, he wants you to turn and break up with Lewis and just find someone else.

”Why Kelly? Why is anyone with anyone?” You ask your brother, wanting him to see.

”I love Kelly.” Max says instantly.

”And what? I don’t love Lewis? I love him Max, and he’s the single best thing that has ever happened to me.” You tell Max with tears gathering in your eyes and a squeeze to your hand. “It’s Lewis now, and it’ll be Lewis next week, and it’ll be him until he’s sick of me.”

”Not planning on it happening.” Lewis tells you softly, Max looks at you both, looks at the softness Lewis is showing you, he’s allowing you to say and do whatever you want whilst being there to support you. To have your back.

”You’re an adult now, y/n, you can do whatever you want to do, I’m not happy but if being with Lewis is what you want then I’ll try to be fine with it.” Max concedes but for some reason it rubbed you the wrong way.

”No, no.” You shake your head, and stand up and look at your younger brother, tears leaving your eyes. “You don’t get to tell me you’re unhappy, you don’t get to do that. You can’t tell me you’re ‘okay’ with it when you’re not, max, you know how much I love you, you’ve been my number one person since I was a child, I thought of you the first and last thing every day, I took care of you and helped you and protected you and never ever asked for anything I’m asking you now, to be happy, can’t you be happy for me?” Max stays silent and you wipe the tears away. “Fuck you Max, honestly just fuck off.”

You storm off to the bedroom slamming the door, before slamming the bathroom door as well, leaving the men alone.

”Look Max, I respect you as a driver, but you have to understand where she’s coming from.” Lewis says to Max calmly. “When you said whatever you want to do WE’LL do, you have to realise that you and your sister aren’t one, you’re not one being, your achievements are yours not hers she’s a part of your team but that was by circumstance, by a choice she made when she wasn’t even 13 yet.” Max once again stays silent, his mind is turning and churning. “I love your sister and I want you to know that she’s my number one priority right now, and I don’t think she’s ever been someone's top priority, so let her be happy, and like she supported you, it’s your turn to support her.”

Lewis leaves Max alone and goes to find you, Max hears your sobs followed by Lewis’s soft and comforting words. He hears you letting go and spelling your emotions relying on Lewis. He realises that he’s been lacking as a brother for so long, he’s never been there for you like Lewis is right now, and he’s known you for less than a year.

Next day you didn't go to the track, your eyes were puffy and you hadn’t slept well, so Lewis left you sleeping in the morning with a text telling you to stay in for the day. Half way through the day Kelly turns up, you spend the day talking and catching up. Your current relationship status with your brother has no affect on your relationship with her. Kelly has always been one of the closest people to you, yes it’s because she’s dating Max and by default you spend a lot of time with her, but in a way she’s been like an older sister to you, or just a sister that you can tell everything in a way you wouldn’t with the younger siblings in case they get upset or you’d ruin their innocence.

She told you all about P and what she’s been up to, you showed her pictures of everything you’ve done with Lewis and told her about all the places you’ve been to. You shared a bottle of wine, ordered some room service and enjoyed yourselves. No talk of F1 or boyfriends or brothers, just two girls having fun, and it was something you needed.

Quali day you made it to the track with sunglasses and a Merc LH44 hat on your head in a less in your face approach when getting into the paddock.

”Hey, y/n.” Susie Wolff greeted you when the cars were out on track for FP3.

”Hi, it’s so nice to officially meet you.” You say pressing your cheeks to hers in greeting, you’ve of course seen the woman before but you’ve never actually talked to her.

“You too, how are you doing? Hope the Mercedes garage is treating you well.” Susie says.

”Yes, everyone’s been welcoming and lovely.”

”That’s great, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” She says and pulls you gently to the side so you’d be able to talk comfortably.

”Yeah sure, what’s going on?” You ask her, having no idea why she’d want to talk to you about.

”I heard from Lewis that you’re looking into jobs relating to racing.” She said and you’re surprised to say the least. Lewis hasn’t told you anything about it. “And I have an offer for you.”

”Please.”

”I’ve heard how involved you’ve been with Max and that you’ve done well in karting as well, so I think that we can find you a spot maybe as a manager at first in F1 academy and then we can see where to go from there.” The smile that breaks onto your face is so big and you can’t help it, it’s caught on camera from afar, the text under your name saying ‘Lewis Hamilton’s partner’

“That’s a dream come true, thank you so much.” You give Susie a hug, and you can��t wait to get back to the hotel to say/show your thanks to Lewis. You both start talking more about the academy, working with women, what the job will entail, what's to expect and what other things you’d like to do. Overall it was a very lovely and beneficial talk to the both of you.

Race day comes and you’re watching from the Merc garage, the race was intense but for a rare moment for the team in 2024 both drivers are doing well, and Lewis is up front fighting with the top 4 cars. You’re anxiously watching hoping for a good result for your man, and as the race goes on it’s looking fiercer, and you find yourself hoping that everyone’s safe out on track.

A good outcome comes out of the race with Lewis coming in 2nd after Max, you’re beyond happy, clapping and cheering with the team. You don’t wait for the team and start to make your way down to have a good spot for the podium, somehow you end up standing between Mercedes and RedBull, right next to Kelly. Just like old times. You both wait, like old times. But you’re waiting for different people now, each of you is waiting for her boyfriend.

Lewis makes it back first, he runs over to the team and they hug and congratulate him, before he takes off his helmet and balaclava and pulls you in for a kiss by the back of your head. your hands land on his shoulder and you’re scrounged by the screams of the teams around you. Lewis pulls back and you’re both smiling, he kisses your forehead and turns to leave. He just passes Max who puts his hand on his shoulder to stop him. Max has already taken his helmet and balaclava off, meaning he had seen you and Lewis kissing. You hold your breath as you watch saying Kelly’s name.

”Don’t worry.” She tells you as she watches the scene in front of her unfold.

”Take care of her.” Max says to Lewis, it’s only the two of them that heard it, but Lewis nods and takes Max’s outstretched hand, they shake for a moment.

“Always.” It’s Max’s way of saying he approves and he supports them being together. You finally breathe when Max lets go and heads to you guys, he quickly hugs and kisses Kelly before he turns to you. He gives you a smile that you return and he kisses your cheek before he turns and celebrates with his team. Tears gather in your eyes but with the amount of cameras around you well them away.

There’s still a long way for you and Max to go, you haven’t forgiven him but this is a step. He’s still a tad bit apprehensive about Lewis but he’s trying, maybe one day he’ll see it and he’ll be okay with this relationship and it’ll all be alright. But Max has to let you go and give you the freedom to do what you want, he’ll try to be better for you, he’ll try to earn your trust once more. He knows he has a lot to work on and he’s willing to do that, for you, because you’re his number one.

Bonus Scene - Jos gets what he deserves

You and Lewis went out to celebrate with the team, and you’re thrown back in memories of when you first met, so much has changed. You’re no longer single, you wanted to go to the club even if you’re only having one drink and Lewis is having none, Lewis wasn’t forced to come as well, his team showed up for him. You’re both in so much better spirits this time around, you didn’t sneak away, you danced together. Lewis is singing to you as you’re dancing and you’re laughing, smiling and having the time of your life.

Walking back in the hotel you were laughing as if you’re drunk, maybe drunk on love. But alas, Jos can’t ever see you happy and let you be, that man has no sense of awareness or care, because why is he calling your name in the middle of the hotel lobby? Is it night time? yes. Is the lobby practically empty? yes. Is it still a public space? yes. Do the couple of people still have phones? yes.

All the laughter and happiness is stripped out of you in an instant, Lewis who was pulling you after him stopped, you both turn to look at Jos to see your father angry stalking towards you two.

”What-“ You barely managed to get the word out before Jos was throwing his arm to grab yours, with Lewis’s driver's reflexes he managed to pull you behind himself so your dad’s hand barely brushed against you.

“Whoa there man, what are you doing?” Lewis was boiling with rage, your hands holding his shirt the only thing that kept him from punching Jos.

“Step away, I want to talk to my daughter.” Jos stated glaring at Lewis, he was trying to make himself look bigger than he was, you were shaking with fear, memories from when you were younger flooded your mind.

”No, you’re not talking to her.” Lewis said through gritted teeth his hands turned into fists.

”This is family business.” Jos said back.

”I don’t care, she’s my family now.” Jos was getting angrier every time Lewis talked back to him. “You’ve got no right to talk to her, you’ve never even cared about her, we all know why you want to ‘talk’ to her and it’s not happening. y/n, is none of your or Max’s business anymore.”

”y/n, tell him to step away and come here.” You flinched when you heard your name coming out of his mouth.

”No, I don’t want to talk to you.” You tell him trying to muster all the courage you have in you, it’s been such a long time since you’ve seen him this angry, it’s like the old him came back.

”Don’t be an idiot, and come here.” His hand was pointing and waving around as he talked.

”No.” You shook your head, Jos having reached his breaking point tried to come near you once more, but Lewis moved, making you still behind him and out of your father’s reach. That made Jos angrier and the angrier he got the more he started doing things without thinking. You know your dad, you know his tell-tales, his ticks and his signs. You learned them, you had to learn them to be able to live and survive with him. Maybe it was the clench of his jaw or how he leaned on one leg a bit, maybe it was the small twitch in his eyes or maybe it was all those at once. But all you knew is that you pushed Lewis to the side, making him stumble and for a hand to come in contact with your temple. A small scream escapes your lips and gasps around the lobby, You stumble and fall back on your hands and knees harshly. Lewis is shouting and cursing grabbing your father by his shirt pushing him away, and security were on the both of them in seconds, Where were they a few moments before you had no idea. Once they got a hold of Jos and separated Lewis and him, Lewis was by your side helping you up. cupping your face in his hands, looking at the red spot, that’s bruising fast.

”Are you okay, love?” Maybe it’s a stupid question but he had to ask.

”Yeah, just a bit dizzy.” At your words Lewis led you to a sofa and sat you down. The police were called and you were handed ice, the dizziness has long since passed when the police arrived but a headache was killing you. Being in the US and how everything was already complicated, you didn’t press charges and even refused to go to the hospital wanting this day to end already.

Lewis bless him was acting as if you were dying, his arms around you to help you walk, leading you to your shared room, ordering more ice and painkillers, he took off your shoes and helped you slip out of your dress and into one of his shirts, he took off your make up for you and he moved the blankets for you to slip under them before placing them back on. You sat leaning on the headboard and the lights were dimmed.

”Lewis.” You say once he sat down beside you on the edge of the bed, he hummed his eyes not straying from your face. “I told you before we started dating that I have a lot of baggage and you said it’s okay and there’s no baggage… do you- do you still feel the same?”

”Of course, love, sweetheart, everything you’ve been through is just going to make us stronger, besides, it can only look up from here.” Lewis reassured you and takes your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles, you flip your hand and cup his face rubbing his cheek.

“I love you so much.” You tell him tearing up, the emotions he evokes and moves inside of you are too much, they’re all good and warm and lovely, but they’re too much.

”I love you too sweetheart.” Lewis turns his head to kiss your palm multiple times. “And I promise that one day, I’ll make you Mrs. Hamilton and I’ll give you the family that you deserve.”

”I don’t have to be a Hamilton, you’ve given me more than I could ever ask for.”

”It’s still not what you deserve, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me to.” Lewis places his forehead against yours softly and carefully not to hurt you.

Jos didn’t face any legal consequences, but videos of the accident were leaked online and the internet was eating him alive. RedBull had to come out and say he’s not allowed in their premises again. You heard from Kelly about the fight he had with Max about it and how Max cut him off, and out of his life. You didn’t care about that though you were just living your life with Lewis and focused on your new job, doing what you wanted, happily.

Main taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002

Taglist:

@itsapurrfectstorm . @seasonswinter . @runs-with-sciss0rs . @jajouska . @princessria127 . @thecubanator2 . @shelbyteller . @sugyomama . @emily-b . @torossosebs . @champomiel . @daemyratwst . @six-call . @jaydaaasworld . @ironmaiden1313 . @dilfsaresohot . @fearfam69691

[ohworm-writes]

Thinking about Firefighter!Price.

Imagine him coming home after a long, exhausting day of working, keys jingling as he unlocks the door at some ungodly hour of the night, footsteps falling heavy against the floor as he walks inside, exhaustion and fatigue lingering along his form.

He's still dressed in his station wear - a fitted, navy blue t-shirt with Station 141's logo printed onto the front of it, small, right on the right side of his chest, and a pair of trousers in the same color to match, hanging loosely onto him.

He should take a shower, he knows he should. He smells of sweat and sulfur, the scents clinging to his clothes and skin like a second skin, and he know that the two of you'll have to wash the bedding come morning.

But god, the sight of you in bed, dressed in a loose pair of your own shorts and one of his spare shirts, face smushed against one of the pillows as your breathing comes slow, in and out, steady - it's far too enticing to pass up so easily.

So he unbuckles his belt in a daze, stripping off his shirt, undershirt and trouser, tossing the articles haphazardly onto the floor (he tries to toss them towards the hamper, but he knows he misses, given the way his belt buckle clanks loudly against the hardwood floor of the bedroom, but, honestly, he could care less).

And he gets right into bed beside you, fingers grazing lightly over the exposed skin of your thighs, traversing upwards, fingers splayed as his palm travels over the fabric of your shorts, sneaking their way under the loose shirt of his that you wear, hand pressing against your tummy as he pulls you close.

He presses his nose into your shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as he deeply inhales the scent of your body wash, softly shushing you as you start to rouse, the way your body gently begins to shuffle as you let out the softest, sleepiest yawn, listening as he grumbles softly against your skin.

"Didn't mean to wake you, love. Go back to sleep."

His voice is so hoarse, so strained and rough from the events of the day - yelling and barking out commands to the firefighters within the ladder and engine crews that he guides - but, at the same time, it's runs smooth like honey, settling just right in your sleepy, hazy mind.

He hugs you tighter, pressing your back flush against his chest as he curls his body around you in a subtly protective manner, littering tender kisses against your neck, trying to coax you back to sleep as he lets out a soft sigh, infatuated with the way your body molds perfectly into his.

"Mmm... s'fine, John. Wha... what time s'it?"

"None of your business, that's what time. Go back to sleep. I'll be here in the mornin'... promise you that. Okay?"

He doesn't let you ask your questions. If you try to think, he knows you'll wake up, and he already feels guilty about waking you up in the first place, so he doesn't even entertain your sleepy question, giving you a promise - two, technically. That he's here now and that it'll stay that way until the two of you wake up in the dawn.

"Stubborn..."

"Always. We c'n talk in the mornin'. Sleep."

"Mmm... glad you're back home safe. Love you."

"Love you, too."

But by the time he says the words, you've already fallen back asleep, and a deep, rumbling chuckle erupts from within his chest, amused, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your jaw before letting himself fall asleep behind you, his breaths, his heartbeat falling into sync with your own.

[murdrdocs]

saber tooth | f. odair

description. just two days out from the Games, your mentor and best friend, finnick odair, comes to your room late at night in a mutual fit of insomnia to fulfill your (potentially) dying wish 

includes. SMUT 16+, fem!reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, loss of virginity sans p in v, canon-complicit angst, mentions of finnick’s trafficking, best friends to lovers, reader’s a tribute, finnick’s her mentor, extremely brief misunderstandings, soft dom finnick, pleasure dom finnick, brief mention of drug use (one line), finnick and annie were never together but he mentored her, he rlly cares abt r :((, giggly sex (sometimes), throw away line abt lack of body hair but i rlly like body hair

a/n: whaddup whaddup! this started as a blurb but it um ,,, clearly expanded. there’s no p in v simply bc im so tired rn however i would like to continue this in the future if my mind would allow it :) also the title has nothing to do with the fic i was just listening to easily by chuck inglish

word count: 4k+ 

part 2

A week of anticipation, festivities, and celebration for the Capitol, was a week of anxiety, tears muffled into pillows, and wishing to be somewhere else for you. 

The week leading up to the 72nd Hunger Games. 

The Reaping, Opening Ceremony, and the three days of training that followed were mostly a blur. Your body picked up on the techniques you would need to survive, and with the help of Finnick, you’d managed to commit them to memory. You remembered the way you’d been trained to sit and talk and the jokes you should slip into conversation with Caesar tomorrow night. 

All of their training was working, and Finnick had told you that you had a high chance of making it out of that area. A high chance. Nothing was guaranteed at this point in your life. Which is why you needed to do a few final things. 

The door to your bedroom slides open. You lift your head from the pillow and squint. There’s a little light coming from the hallway, and it backlit the figure. But even without it, you would know who was coming to see you. The only person who’d been coming to see you since the arrival at the Tribute Center. 

“Hey, Finn,” you mumble, resting your head back against the pillow that’s always cool. 

Finnick takes a few steps into your room, stopping to flick a switch that only turns on the lamps beside your bed, and the two ambient ones in the corners. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, as if he’s tired, but not to the point of already greeting sleep. It’s a little later than it should be, you were recommended to have gone to sleep two hours ago but you couldn’t. There was too much going on in your head, too many unsaid words and undone actions. You couldn’t sleep with your consciousness this awake. 

Finnick voices the matter. “You can’t sleep, can you?” 

You shake your head, deciding to sit up a little, your bare lower half still secure underneath the thick comforter. Your room was always cold, and the silk sheets mirrored the temperature. Physically, you were the most comfortable you’d ever been, wearing the softest cotton undergarments, and a silk button up nightshirt, your toes warm beneath fuzzy socks. But the weight on your mind was the complete opposite. 

With the way Finnick looks at your face, he can tell just how exhausted you are. 

“Want something to help with that?” He asks as he sits at the edge of the bed, close but entirely too far from you. “A drink? Pills? The Capitol has it all, you know.” The way he says it is the opposite of marveling, the words laced with annoyance and frustration. His tone prompts a small smile from you. 

“‘M okay. I trust my body to do what it’s supposed to.” Finnick’s head is turned down, but you see the way the corner of his lip curls up. 

He lifts his head to fully smile at you, one of sympathy and pity and sadness. His hand reaches out and his palm rests over the outline of your shin. Far too many layers are between the bare skin on both of you, but you don’t say so. You just give Finnick an equally sad smile, expressing your dismay for your situation, and you begin to pick at your nails in your lap. 

“What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Finnick shakes his head. “No such luck for me either.” He shrugs as if he’s used to it and you remember that he’s been in this position too. Just a few years ago, a young boy, your best friend, was sitting in this bed, with similar thoughts weighing on his mind. And now his best friend was in that position. 

You push the sheets back, exposing the beginnings of the skin on your thigh, and you pat the space beside you. “C’mon,” you encourage, not ceasing your patting until Finnick scoffs and slides his slippers off, crawling up to slip under the covers with you. 

The bed is larger than you’d ever seen, something your escort called a ‘bed fit for a king’, but Finnick chooses to sit right beside you, the heat of his body warming yours. 

“We could watch something. What plays on the television in the Capitol?” Finnick’s sitting so close to you that you can feel him shrug. Whenever you reach over to the bedside table, pulling the drawer open to grab the remote, you come back to sit even closer to him, where your arms are pressed flush against each other. 

“Mostly shows about the lives of celebrities here.” 

You gasp, turning to face him. “Is that rumor about you appearing on some reality show true?” Finnick’s ears redden and that’s enough confirmation that you need. Your head throws back with a hearty laugh, and you click on the TV with hopes of finding an episode. 

Finnick sits quietly beside you as you click through the channels, reading the titles and watching maybe a second or two of content before you decide to try the next thing. When you’ve gone through most channels, you land on the one that will play the Games. 

He says your name, as a warning perhaps, but you click it anyway, seeing that they’re talking about you. 

“Now the odds of this one making it out are pretty high. She’s pretty, smart, and trained by the Finnick Odair,” a clip of you and Finnick appears, one that must’ve been taken backstage during the Opening Ceremony. He’s standing close to you, crouched down just enough to meet your eye level. You’re obviously nervous, and he’s obviously attempting to soothe those nerves, cracking jokes with a hand held to your heart, both of yours over it.  “The Capitol’s Prince.” The announcer pronounces those words clearly, enunciated, making sure every late night viewer understands Finnick’s alternate title. 

Clips of Finnick throughout the years show and you grow silent, watching how he commands a room better than you ever could. 

“If she were to make it out, I’m sure she could become the Capitol’s Princess, right?” The announcer smiles just as the remote is snatched from your hands and the TV is clicked off, ridding the bedroom of the colorful hues and leaving you and Finnick with the yellow light from your lamps. 

“Why did you–?” Finnick’s interrupting. He’s thrown the remote to the side of him and he’s turned to face you. 

“I want you to make it out of the Games, I really do.” You nod, watching the way his chest rises and falls with breaths that fill the hesitant silence. “But, I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.” 

“What do you mean? You don’t want me to be loved and adored by the Capitol?” You say it a tad bit sarcastically, but your tone dulls down when you notice how serious his face is. 

He shakes his head. “No, I really don't.” You scoff, beginning to get upset over the idea that a night that was turning peaceful, began to turn on its head. “Because everything comes with a price here,” he says your name, making sure you’re listening. “The ‘love’ the Capitol has for me is ingenuine, they love me like I’m an object. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” 

“Finnick, I don’t think I understand.” But you do, you really do. 

He tells you as much, that same sad smile from earlier on his lips. 

Before you can speak, he does. “Look, I came in here to ask you what you want.” 

Your eyebrows furrow. 

“Before the Tributes I mentor get sent off, I like to fulfill their wish. In case they don’t…”

“In case they don’t make it back.” He nods. “So a dying wish?” Another nod. 

“So, what d’you want?” 

You know what you want. You’ve wanted it since you were a teenager, watching Finnick, the most loved victor, leave for the Capitol and come back weeks later. Since you watched him train Annie Cresta and everyone, including yourself, believed there to have been something between them. Since he walked into your room just 20 minutes ago. 

“What I want, I don’t think I can ask you for.” You speak low, your voice a whisper. Your head rests on the headboard behind you, turned to face Finnicks. 

He shakes his head gently. “I have connections. I can guarantee almost anything.” 

“No, Finn.” You don’t think you can ask him for this. Especially with what he’s essentially just told you. It would be selfish, it would be insincere, it would ruin the friendship you have between you two. 

“I can’t.” 

His head’s already facing yours, and he brings one of his hands up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“No, Finn, I can’t.” Your eyes sting, as does your nose, and you know there’s no use in pretending the tears aren’t there. He’s seen them, he’s acknowledged them by swiping his thumb under your eye, catching the first drop. 

“I would do anything for you. Just say the word.” 

You search his eyes, his face, the tip of his ears, his Adam’s Apple. You’re looking for his tell. But it’s not there. It’s just Finnick. Your Finnick. And he wants the best for you. 

You’re the most vulnerable you’ve ever been at this moment; sitting in a bed in the Tribute Center, just two days out from the Hunger Games, a period of uncertainty that is life or death; your best friend, and unrequited crush, as your mentor, having to hold your pieces together at least until the end of this. 

There’s no point in hiding anything. You know you need to lay it all out. So you do. 

“Even take my virginity?” 

The air is still. Stiff. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t breathe. His thumb halts. He doesn’t blink. 

You sit there, watching him, holding in the sob that threatens to wrack across your body. 

“Forget it. I’m sor–” 

“Yes.” 

“What?” 

“Yes.” 

There’s a moment where you don’t act. A moment where disbelief trickles down your body like the tears from your eyes do on your face. 

“Finn…” 

“I would do anything for you. I have wanted you since we were young, but I thought…” 

“Doesn’t matter what you thought then. Not anymore. We go from here now.” 

And there is the nagging possibility that all of this could be because of your potential fate. Maybe he’s humoring you, or letting you in on that final step of human intimacy before your life ends. You prefer not to think about it. Especially whenever Finnick’s moving closer to you and you can feel his breath on your lips. 

Your lips are almost touching, the tanned skin of his face is right in front of you, the same goes for the pink of his lips. He’s almost there, then he says, “Are you sure?” 

“‘M sure.” And Finnick is kissing you. Finnick Odair is finally kissing you. 

He kisses you softly, sweetly, with precision and a gentle nature. As if he’s afraid that he’ll do something wrong and hurt you. 

You kiss him back in a similar fashion, just with added timidness that Finnick doesn’t possess. 

Your hands raise slowly, in choppy motions that are both due to your uncertainty, and the distraction of finally having the man of your dreams kiss you like you’re made of porcelain. But you manage to get your hands to Finnicks torso, palms pressed flat against his thin shirt so that you can feel the abs along his torso. 

You’ve felt them before, in time of play fighting, or whenever he would have you replicate his breathing or form. But touching along his torso in this circumstance is different. Now, your touch ignites a fire within you. It makes Finnick grip the back of your neck and pull you closer with one hand, the other sliding the covers away and hooking his hand at the back of your thigh, pulling your left leg over your right. 

Your hands slide down to the hem of his shirt, slowly starting to slide it up until he gets the hint and pulls away just enough for you to slide the shirt between you two, up and over his head. Then he’s back on you. 

When you sigh blissfully into his mouth, he starts to kiss you like he’s desperate to have you close. Like he wants to engulf your entire being until you’re intertwined. 

The best you can do is physically move closer to him, letting the hand on the back of your thigh guide you to straddling his lap. 

It’s then that Finnick pulls away from you. Your hands trail up to cup his cheeks, moving back to play with the golden blonde locks that seemed to never be out of place. 

He stares up at you, sea-green eyes pulling you even further into a state of enchantment. Whenever he tilts his head, eyes stuck on you, and kisses into your palm, you melt. His hand lifts to gently circle around your wrist, nimble fingers rubbing little circles into the skin. 

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Finnick speaks. “I need you to remember that even if I’m doing the work, you set the pace. You tell me what you like and don’t like. You tell me when to go and when to stop. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

And then you’re back at it. His hands circle around to your lower back, pushing into the curvature to bring your chest closer to him. He uses the position to his advantage, dipping his head to kiss at the exposed bits of your skin; your neck, collarbone, the starts of your cleavage. He quickly becomes frustrated with the lack of skin, and you bite back a smile as you gently nudge his head back and begin to undo the buttons. 

He watches you in a trance-like state with a look that seems akin to awe. You can’t help but tease him just a bit, shifting in your position atop his crotch and slowing your work on the buttons. 

Finnick groans and his hands leave your lower back to push your own hands away, deciding to undo your buttons himself, grumbling something under his breath about you being a tease. 

When you giggle above him, Finnick has you pushed onto your back in what seems like the blink of an eye. Really, it did happen quick, but your eyes were already closed from giggling so hard, so reopening them to Finnick above you, your shirt opened and your barely confined tits in Finnick’s eyeline, is disorienting. 

“Jesus, look at you,” Finnick mumbles. And he is. His eyes are hungirly skirting over your figure, taking it all in. From your eyes, to the bra that you wear, all the way to the cotton panties that hug your hips. 

His gaze stops at your lower half for a while, watching your stomach rise and fall with your breaths and the way there’s definitely a little wet patch on your panties. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” He mumbles under his breath. The question is rhetorical, and meant only for him. But, in a fit of nerves, you answer anyway, needing to do something other than lay there. 

“I don’t know, Finn, there’s a lot that you can do. You can go down on me, give me your fingers, your cock.” 

His eyes lift to yours, shock evident within them. “Did you just say the word ‘cock’?” He laughs between the words, that perfectly pearly white smile greeting you. 

“Yeah,” you say, laughing through the syllables too. 

Finnick shakes his head with that smile still present. 

He swears under his breath but then his fingers are playing with the hem of your panties and you’re back under, focused on what he could possibly plan to do next. He hums, eyes on you, eyebrows raised. 

It takes you a second to realize what his intentions were, but you do soon enough. “Keep going. Please.” 

The tips of his fingers reach below the band of your panties. He begins to pull them down, just until your hip bones and the start of your mound becomes visible. At first, you disgraced the Capitols groomers' work of ridding your entire body of hair, but you can’t help but feel a little grateful that they did. You knew that Finnick wouldn’t care either way. 

You lift your hips, letting Finnick pull your panties over the curve of your ass. When they sit at the halfway point of your thighs, he lowers his head and presses his lips to the area right above the waistband. And he continues to do so, sliding your underwear down and kissing through the journey. 

The last kiss he gives you is on the arch of your foot, right before he guides the garment over the remaining part of your body, throwing them off to the side of the bed. 

Finnick sits back on his heels then, just looking at you, looking at your legs which are just almost crossed at the knee, your ankles together and one knee raised slightly above the other. You’re shielding the most vulnerable part of you, hiding it almost. But when his green eyes meet your center, briefly meeting your eyes, you slowly part your legs, allowing him to see you in all of your glory. 

Finnick sucks in a sharp breath of air, his chest rising with it. He doesn’t let it out until your legs are completely opened and bent at the knee, inviting him in. You sit halfway up on your elbows, watching him, waiting for him. 

It’s not long until he makes a move, just a few tense moments and then Finnick’s kicked into action. 

His calloused hands on your knees, sliding around to the back of your thighs as he lays on his stomach, directly facing your cunt. 

When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. “I wanna taste you, sweetheart. Just for a bit. Is that alright?” 

His eyes are visible over your mound, but they’re not focused on you just this once. They’re focused on your cunt, scanning it, taking it all in almost as if he’s committing this moment to his very strong memory. 

You’re a little starstruck, reckoning with the notion that Finnick wants to give you head. Therefore, you sit there in stunned silence, attempting to find the words to deliver your over enthusiastic agreement. But Finnick takes your silence negatively. 

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, honey. Just wanna make you feel good. That’s what I’m here for.” And there are those eyes again. They’re pleading, but also making you feel comfortable, reminding you that you’re in charge. 

You smile gently, nodding. “Yes.” 

And the first lick has your head spinning. His tongue is warm, and wet, and he licks a long stripe from your leaking entrance to your clit. It’s slow, and methodical. He licks your juices up, but they’re coming back tenfold by the time he’s pressed a kiss to your clit. 

A surprised moan pushes up your throat. The feeling has your hips pushing into his face on their own accord, your elbows slipping out from under you and your head throwing back onto the mattress. 

Finnick disconnects from you for just a second to let out a pleased groan, but the absence is too much for you already. You’re wiggling your hips, searching for him. 

Finnick laughs and the sound has heat rising through you. “‘M still here. Not leaving this pussy anytime soon.” 

He lives up to his promise immediately. His mouth’s back on you, licking and sucking on your most sensitive parts. 

It’s now that you remember how experienced Finnick is. How knowledgeable he is about the general spots of someone’s body. And he’s able to apply that knowledge to your body, with the help of your zealous responses. 

You’re moaning, your back arching, your hands gripping the sheets. Your knees bend more, your legs spread more, it’s all more and more and more. You want more from Finnick. You need more. 

You’re communicating that fact when you finally have enough courage to fist a hand into Finnick’s hair, and it’s like he’s rewarding you when he slyly begins to probe a finger at your tight entrance. 

You’re clenched, far from relaxed, but with a deep breath, you’re loose enough for him to slide in to the first knuckle, then the second, then all the way, his single digit comfortable within your walls. 

Finnick fucks you with his finger, aiding the penetration with his pretty pink lips around your pink nub. He sucks, the pressure making your head spin, your consciousness in the clouds to the point where you don’t notice another of Finnick’s deft fingers teasing your entrance. 

“Another?” he asks, voice barely able to be heard due to his proximity to your cunt. 

“Uh-huh,” is all the affirmation you can give. 

It’s a little tight and uncomfortable at first, but once his digits are evened out and curling in you, and his tongue is lapping up your juices like it’s water, you’re riding so high in a blissed out state that discomfort is the last thing on your mind. 

Your approaching orgasm becomes known to you quicker than you can anticipate. It’s like all of a sudden there’s tension in your lower abdomen, begging for your attention, begging to be released. 

“Finnick, Finn,” he hums, not stopping any of his ministrations. “‘M so close. Almost there.” 

You hadn’t thought it to be possible but Finnick gives you more. His fingers fuck you faster and harder, his cheeks hollow as he alternates between sucking along your nerves and stroking his tongue is the areas that you’re most sensitive. 

It feels so fucking good, a pleasure you’d never experienced in your life. You couldn’t imagine being in this position with anyone other than your best friend, someone you trusted with your entire being. It’s as if he knows your body better than you do, because sooner than you would’ve liked, your back is arching and your legs are lifting off the bed and your nails are digging into Finnick’s scalp, all signs that your orgasm is right there and you cum with a loud cry that melts into breathy moans. 

Finnick pulls his fingers out of your cunt but his mouth stays on you, placing gentle kisses and kitten licks along the slicked area. When your legs have lowered and your breath has evened out, he pulls his head away from you, a wince leaving his lips. 

“Darling,” he starts, receiving an affirmative hum in response. “You’re pulling my hair out.” 

“Oh, shit, sorry.” Your hand lets go of his hair, your body burning with embarrassment. But Finnick’s bright laugh and content smile soothes you. 

“‘S okay,” he mumbles as he leans up and presses a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. Your lips mold to his like they were created for each other, and the kiss is slow, methodical, loving. 

You whine when he pulls away, but his hands have already hooked under your thighs and he’s pulling you with him as he starts to sit back. 

You end up in the position you started in, sitting on Finnick’s lap, your hands on his shoulders. 

Under you, you can feel his bulge confined in his pants. You shift a little over it, your throat beating with your heart rate due to the anticipation. 

Finnick’s eyes close softly and his head throws back. Your hand rises to push back the bangs of his hair which lay on his forehead, in favor of resting your skin against his. 

“Sweetheart,” he groans. “We …. We can’t.” 

Your heart drops. 

“Huh?” 

“I wanna feel you, sweetheart, I swear.” His eyes open to stare at yours and you notice the sincerity in them. It doesn’t do much to lift your spirits, though. “But we can’t. Not yet.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, waiting for further explanation. It comes from him quickly. 

“I need you in your right mind in the Games. You need to be focused, and only thinking about survival. Nothing else.” 

“You’re so full of yourself.” 

He chuckles. “Maybe. But we have to play it safe.” A beat. “You trust me, right?” 

And you do. Wholeheartedly. 

[bl0odyh3art]

JUST LIKE HER.

warnings: incest (father/daughter), James being disgusting, james comparing you and Mary 😭, non-con to dub-con, and getting turned on by yelling.

this is dead dove/dark content. if are uncomfortable with this kind of content or don't like it, then do not interact.

a/n : this lowkey sucks to me

Being with your dad wasn't so bad. He supports you, cares for you, lets you drive his car sometimes, and decided it was okay for you to live with him still. Unless you find a nice spot. But there's one thing.

He's really, really, really, really, a serious loser. I mean come on…he's kinda pathetic. Sad to say it but it's true, your dad isn't always the best of the best. He can be lazy and dumb. Sometimes really touchy with you as well….but that's for another time. Whenever he sees you, cleaning, cooking, or whatever that reminds him of Mary in the slightest.

He'd go insane and go on long stories about her, of course he never told you what really happened…you'd hate him with all your guts and heart. He even feels pathetic for mistaking you for her once.

“Dad, it's been years. I thought you'd let go of it now.” You sighed as you grabbed the tiny towel to dry off a dish.

“I know, sweetie but it's just-....you look like her sometimes and that makes me freak out..” He looked away from you, what kind of father does that? Gets excited over almost seeing his dead wife but in reality it's just his daughter.

Honestly, when did you get so big? When you were a kid, you looked a lot more like him. Exactly like your dad, people would mistake you for a boy sometimes.

He was staring at you, long and good…just looking. ‘Would she feel just like Mary?’ He let his thoughts take over. What the fuck.

He cringed internally and put his head in his hands. He can't. He knows he shouldn't…but fuck. He saw all the bits of Mary…Mary…and himself. Mostly his genes but you were a perfect mix. The tits and ass…god he just wanted to grab them and compare them but that'd already make him more of a loser than he is.

Being miserable and wanting to fuck his own daughter? Really trying to make himself look bad at this point. But what could be the harm? Only once. He hid Mary's death for a bit…He can hide this too.

“What are you doing?” Scoffing at him as he puts his hands on your hips, Trying to swat them away.

“You look like her, y’know..?” He said in the softest and sad voice he had.

Pathetic ass loser trying to seduce his daughter. Barf.

“Okay…and?...” You tried to turn your head to look at him. He stared at you with a certain look you've seen before. The look you saw customers give you at work. “Let's fuck” look. He tried slipping his cold hands underneath your sweater, making you flinch and push him away.

“Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your brows furrow and look disgusted with him. You should be disgusted because he deserves it.

“Honey, I'm so sorry…I don't know what came over me….” He sighed. He knew exactly what came over him but sadly it didn't work.

So plan B. Fuck her while she's sleeping. Not his proudest moments but hey, he's had worse moments. So during the night, while you're all tucked in and fast asleep. He comes in like the boogeyman at night and boom.

He can't wait another minute, feeling up your tits and kissing you…Okay, so it doesn't really taste like her but it's sweeter and softer.

After minutes of kissing you and feeling up your tits, you get up and slap him quickly “God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I can't even sleep anymore? Fuck…you're so gross, I can't believe mom delt with you.” You basically yelled at him and wow, that's what got him hard.

Whiskey Dick the whole time he was touching you but the yelling is what got him turned on. Fucking freak.

You couldn't do much, he's stronger and older, you had to give in and just let it happen. He has a big dick though…a real nice pale, veiny, pink tip dick. Pushing it deeper and deeper into you as he let go of strained groans.

“I'm sorry…. I'm- fuck I'm sorry baby but…I couldn't stop…” He breathed out into your neck, he got red pretty easily. his pretty neck is all red and his dick of course just absolutely throbbing against your soft walls. Making you cry out in pleasure and pain.

“Dad!...Oh God…ahah…please rub my clit…” you whined to him and he instantly listened. It's so cute. the perfect pussy, chubby, tight, and wet. After what seemed like hours, he finally came all in you. His jaw clenching, eyes closed, and hands stuck to your hips while he tried so hard to not moan ‘Mary’. No condom or anything. He wasn't capable of waiting for something like that. He felt guilty. Looking at your tired and exhausted expression.

“Baby…My baby…I'm so sorry for that..” He sighed out, leaning his head down to your shoulder and letting it rest there as you just patted his back. “S’okay, dad…” you slurred out, cock drunk.

At least he got some pussy finally.

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Exploring Bucky’s Body

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: When Bucky feels self-conscious about his scars, you take a moment to remind him how perfect he truly is

Warnings: Nonsexual nudity, hurt/comfort, Angst and fluff, insecurities, Sad!Self-Conscious!Bucky, pet names (Sweet Boy, Sweetheart, ), no y/n used, no pronouns used beyond "you"

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!))

-------------------------------------------------------

Bucky has been off all day.

No one else seems to see it, he’s gotten good at hiding it from most people

But you know him better than that, you can see how deep in his own head he is

The distant look in his eyes, the fact he’s even quieter than usual, the way he tenses when anyone touches him, even you

He assures you that he’s fine when you ask, that nothing’s wrong, but you know him

You decide not to bring it up again until the two of you are laying down to go to bed that night

You notice he still has a t-shirt on as he gets ready to settle in, which is strange because he almost always sleeps without a shirt on, adoring the feeling of your skin against his own

So you wrap your arms around his waist from behind, pressing a little kiss to the crook of his neck

“What’s on your mind, Sweet Boy?” you whisper. Bucky didn't look at you, “you know you can talk to me, Honey. Please, what’s wrong?”

He shrugs, avoiding your gaze

You sigh, and go to reach under his shirt to rub his back when you hear a sharp inhale

“Buck? Are you okay?”

“Don’t,” he whispers, “don’t touch them. Please.”

“Don’t touch what?”

“The scars.”

Realization hits you instantly

Bucky gets in his own head, so nervous about how others see him. How you see him.

“Bucky…” you move in front of him, sitting in his lap and taking his face in both hands, “you know I love your body…”

“Don’t act like you don’t hate them,” he murmurs, eyes still refusing to meet yours, “you don’t have to lie–”

“Ssshhh…” you wrap your arms around his neck, guiding his head to your shoulder and running your fingers through his hair, “I’m not lying. I love every part of you.”

He still won’t meet your gaze, so you decide to try something

Sliding out of his lap you softly ask, “Sweetheart, can you lay down for me?”

He cocks his head, finally looking at you, eyes full of confusion

“Just trust me, okay?”

Finally, he does as you ask and settles in bed, resting his back against the headboard

You slip off your shirt

You slip your shorts off as well, fully naked in front of him.

He’s surprised, to say the least

“Doll?”

“Would it be alright if I was on top of you?” you ask.

He nods, still confused as you straddle his hips

Your hand finds the waistband of his boxers

“Can I take these off?” you ask.

His eyes flit around, biting his lip as his body goes tense

You can see the conflict in his blue eyes, desperately wanting to be against you but also so nervous about being seen

Finally, nervously, he nods, and quietly says “yes.”

you slip them off, and his underwear is on the floor

Your hand runs along the hem of his shirt, “can I take this off?”

He pulls back, terrified to let you see him

“I promise, I won’t hurt you, Baby Boy,” you whisper, “just want to show you how perfect you are.”

He’s nervous, you can tell, but he slowly slides it off, you assisting him

Once he’s fully bare, you begin to gently run your hands along his torso

“D-Doll,” he gasps out, eyes fluttering, “don’t…”

“Shhhh, just lemme touch you,” you lean forward and kiss his cheek, “just lemme admire my Incredible boyfriend.”

Your fingertips draw shudders from his body and gasps from his lips, shocked by your gentle touch

Nothing sexual, just you dragging your fingers along every mark, every scar, every tense and taut muscle, every dip of his ribs

Exploring his body with the softest, most gentle feather-light touches

“How?” Bucky whispers, his voice full of emotion. You look up at him and see tears forming in his eyes, “how could you like touching them?”

You reach out and cup his cheek, wiping the tears with your thumb.

“Because you had to be so strong and so brave for so long, Baby,” you lean down and kiss a slash along his ribcage, causing him to gasp, “your scars reflect that. They show how hard you fought, and that you survived. You made it through, and stayed the same kind, gentle, loving man that Steve told me stories about when I first joined the team. You’re a warrior, Bucky. And these show that. They’re a part of you, and I think they’re so beautiful for that.”

He doesn’t respond, but looks up at you with eyes filled with love as you lean forward

"You're so beautiful, Bucky. Every inch of you is perfect," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, "I love you."

He holds your face with both hands, pulling you in for a soft kiss, tender and full of love.

“I love you too.”

[xeeljii]

i need some long distance! joost phone sex plss i wanna be a cam girl 😩

asfgdhjklss OKAY BUT THIS IS LETTER J on the ns/fw alphabet imma just post it here since no one asked for it but yeah i agree on the personal cam girl stuff i wanna write something longer about it in the future (,,>﹏<,,)

────୨ৎ────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

CW: 18+, f! reader, phone sex, masturbation, softest degradation lol

Joost gets back to his hotel room from the venue of the show, late into the night or early morning he isn't too sure, exhausted but still pumped full of adrenaline. He throws himself onto the bed still on his sweaty clothes, should probably shower, change and go to sleep already but he is too awake for any of that. He has been thinking about you all day, you sent him a cute little selfie in the morning just you laying on the shared bed but what caught his attention was what you were wearing, his shirt and nothing but his shirt, he could see the soft outline of your perked nipples through the worn out fabric. This was the first time he had gone away since you started living together and to see you wearing his clothes while he was gone so you could feel him close, clear proof that you missed him so badly, it took all the strength in his body to not just take the first flight right there and go back to you.

But now he is alone with his thoughts again and you are the only image on his mind repeating over and over again on a loop that has him dizzy, so he grabs his phone from the pocket of his jeans and calls you, it is still early for you so he doesn't worry about waking you up, it only takes a ring to pick up like you had been waiting on him, it makes him feel hot already.

"Hello." You voice sounds a little labored, breathy like it does after he fucks you good and it makes him start twitching in his pants as the memories of all the nights he has had you flood in.

"Hi" He says, barely manages to get it out the heat in his lower body raising already. "What are you doing?" He asks, way too quick, eager to hear more of your sweet voice.

"Working out" You reply with a little tired sigh, he can picture it in his mind so clearly it pains him, you in the living room over your yoga mat stretching as music plays in the background, it is summer so you are probably wearing the tiniest little shorts that show of your legs in a way that has him interrupting you mid routine every time.

His dick twitches happily at his vivid imagination.

"How was your day?" You ask, you wish he was back already the phone calls are not nearly enough, but you don't want to worry him with that.

"Missed you." He admits, hand already flying to his belt buckle.

"Missed you too." You say softly, he pulls his pants and boxers down enough to free his already hardening cock.

"Tell me about your day." He almost begs, just needs to hear your pretty voice to get off, wants you to talk him through it.

You start talking about work and some errands you had to run, what you had for dinner and what you were planning tomorrow and you are about to start on how there will be sale at the supermarket when you hear him groan, it is barely above a whisper and you would have missed if only you weren't so familiar with all of his sounds. A devious smiles spreads on your face as you catch him red handed.

"Is this getting you off?" You ask making your voice all sultry and deep.

He can't reply but a whine escapes his mouth as his fist clenches harder on his poor sensitive dick, you chuckle at the other side of the line.

"Oh" You say so amused. You feel heat start between your own legs at the knowlegde that your voice alone is enough to have him so worked up.

"You are a pervert Joost" He whines against the phone, his hand is moving up and down his shaft almost painfully tight but still unable to recreate the delicious tightness of your cunt.

"You are pathetic." You end the word with a giggle and it gets him even harder, his dick twitches. He keeps quiet waiting for you but you are silent.

"Keep going please." He begs so pretty it is hard to say no.

"You are such a needy dog, cannot even wait." He hears you chuckle on the other side, he should be ashamed but it feels so good even when you are borderline mean it just excites him more specially because he knows you don't mean it, you are only indulging him.

"You are getting off on my voice alone, so easy. " You giggle at the last part bitting your lip.

"Fuck." He whimpers, he feels so close his dick is about to burst, precum covering the tip glistening and if you concentrate enough you could hear the wet sounds his hand is making.

"I bet you are so wet, do you miss me or do you just miss my pussy?"

"Yes, no! Fuck liefde please~" And he doesn't even know what he is asking for, it is not like you could come out of the phone and finish him off on your pretty mouth, but he wishes so badly that you could, he swears to himself he will take you with him anywhere can't even stand the thought of not having you by his side ever again.

"Oh my poor puppy." You sound mocking but still somewhat so sweet, his heart is pumping hard and fast, he hears only the blood rushing on his ears, even when you mock him there is the lingering love, you want to help him no matter how far away he is and it soothes his heart like when you lick over the fresh love bites you leave on his neck.

"It is okay baby."

He groans deeply in response, he feels the familiar burn deep inside his stomach he just needs a little more. You bite your lip, you feel at edge too knowing you have him in the palm of your hand, the high is like no other.

"I miss you too Joost, I humped your pillow yesterday I came all over it."

"Baby fuck!" He almost screams, the phone falls from his hand and ends up resting on the bed close enough where he can hear you, his hips raise from the mattress chasing after his closed fist but the only image on his mind is of you riding him. On the brink of the precipice, your confession sends him over the edge, the thought of your sweet release on his pillow, of you wanting him so bad you couldn't wait either.

"Cum Joost." It is not a plea but an order and he follows, always so obedient only for you.

"Shit." He groans as he cums thick ropes all over his hand, his shirt and even his pants.

You can only hear his heavy breathing at the other side of the line and you don't say anything just drinking on the sounds of his post orgasm bliss.

"You okay there or should i call the ambulance?" You ask sweetly after a long minute when you finally hear him breath a little easier.

He wipes his hand on the bedding before reaching for his phone. "m'kay" He whimpers, he feels all his strength has left his body.

"Was that good for you?" You ask still a little incredulous that he could get off on you talking to him alone.

"Yes, yes, perfetct thank you." He thanks you like it was you who gave him a handjob and not his own doing, it is cute the way you own his pleasure.

"I didn't know you had that type of inclination." You say a smile very present on your tone. "I cannot wait for you to come back."

The promise in the sentence leaves him hungry for more and perhaps a little scared about what door he just opened.

[moosesarecute]

The Shadows Heal

A continuation of: “The Shadows Sing”

Previous part: The Shadows Love

Next part: The Shadows Mate

“It’s not as scary as it looks,” Azriel assured you as he led you into your room. His hand held yours.

It was technically his room, but you had been sleeping there every night since the attack and you didn’t think you’d ever go back to your old bedroom.

“Can you relax for me, love?”

“I am relaxed,” you answered.

Azriel raised his eyebrows and looked over to your shadows. They were swirling anxiously around you. You tried to calm them down, but you couldn’t.

“Hey,” Azriel spoke with his softest voice. He moved some hair away from your face. “I just want to make life better for you, but to do that, I need your help. Okay?”

You nodded. His smile warmed you.

“Let’s start.”

He led you to the bed and both of you sat down. His shadows brought him a pen and some paper.

He had explained his plans to you, but you were still very anxious. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

“Let’s start with living arrangements. Do you want to live here at the House or in your room in the library?”

You shifted uncomfortably. Of course you wanted to stay at the House of Wind, that’s where Azriel was. But they got you your own place in the library. What if they thought you didn’t appreciate that?

“Love, you shouldn’t overthink, just speak.”

His shadows had found their way to your hair and were brushing through it. Some of them were cuddling to your legs.

“Here, I would like to stay here,” your voice was shakier than you would have liked.

“Good,” Azriel wore a happy smile. “That’s where I want you too. Would you like your own room? Or would you like to stay here with me?”

You more than anything wanted to stay in Azriel’s room. You have had the best nights of your life sleeping beside your mate.

But you didn’t want to be too eager. What if he found it uncomfortable to sleep in the same bed as you? What if he needed his own space?

“Would you mind me staying here?” You asked in a whisper.

“I would love for you to stay here,” he answered, no hesitation.

He took your hand in his and gave you a small squeeze.

“What about work? Do you want to work?”

That’s what started this entire conversation. Azriel had overheard you saying to your shadows that you didn’t like working at the library. It was too quiet and slow for you. You wanted to move more and speak without being shhh’ed at.

But it was no way you were admitting that.

“I can work at the library,” you stated emotional less.

“I know you can work at the library, I’m asking if you want to.”

“I can work where I’m needed.”

“I know, but what do you want?”

“I want to work where I’m needed.”

“Liar.”

He almost knew you too well. He looked patiently at you. You knew he wasn’t going to move past this.

A small part of you appreciated it. You felt seen, you felt loved. But at the same time, you felt ungrateful. Azriel and his family had given you a second chance at life and you complained? It felt wrong.

“I want-,” you had to take a deep breath. “I want work that’s more productive, where I can move more and speak more. It’s too quiet for me.”

Azriel wrote down what you said.

“Good, that’s good. Do you have any particular work in mind?”

You shook your head. You didn’t know what existed. You knew too little to make that choice yourself.

“That’s alright. We’ll find something perfect for you.”

You didn’t think that would be possible, but you didn’t tell him that.

“What do you feel about training?”

“I really like learning new ways to use and tire out the shadows.”

“I’m happy to hear that. What about more physical training?”

You immediately felt a shiver down your spine. Did he want you to fight? You had enjoyed life so much not having to fight, you weren’t sure if you could go back to survival mode.

“Y/N,” Azriel’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “I mean training as a way to move your body. As a way to use up some of the energy you have. And as a way to clear your mind and feel relaxed. Not as in fighting or going hunting, unless you want to.”

You had never in your life thought about training as something else than surviving. You had to workout daily to be strong enough to hunt or to fight for goods.

But you had to admit, you missed moving your body.

“I could try, but I don’t want to fight,” you answered truthfully. It had become a little easier.

Azriel sat down the pen and paper after he had written down what you said.

“I’m proud of you, lovely,” he said as he moved you into his lap. His arms were around your waist and his wings hugged you too. You leaned into him and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Azzie.”

You could feel him smiling.

“So she hates working at the library?” Feyre asked after Azriel had read the list of things you wanted. “We’ve asked her multiple times and she always said she liked it!”

“She’s terrified of people thinking she’s ungrateful,” Azriel said.

He had gotten Rhys, Cassian, Feyre and Nesta to meet up with him to help him help you.

“She has only given me minimal details about what she wants, but it’s better than nothing.”

Rhys picked up the paper and read through it once more. A soft smile grew on his face.

“She’s staying at the House?” He asked.

Azriel nodded, but couldn’t hold his shadows back from dancing around him.

“Someone’s in love,” Cassian sang.

Azriel sent him a glare. He wasn’t in a joking mood.

You had lived your entire life never getting to make choices. Even in this past year in Velaris you hadn’t done things you enjoyed. You had only pretended and Azriel hated that he hadn’t realized it before now.

That why he asked his family for help. He wanted to figure something out quickly.

“So Y/N will join us for strength and endurance training and when we go over to fighting, she can train with shadows?” Nesta suggested.

“That could work. Az can take the lead on the strength training and I take the fighting, so she would be near you the entire time,” Cassian added.

Azriel nodded in agreement. He knew it would be hard for you to start training again, so if he could stay with you, that would help.

“As for work, we can probably rule out anything that has with books. And also other jobs where she would be alone.”

You had lived alone in a cabin since you were 15 years. While you met other people, you spent most of your time alone, hunting in the woods.

“I hear Madja is looking for a receptionist. It would definitely be louder and more hectic than working at the library,” Feyre explained.

It was perfect.

Azriel literally jumped out the window the second your shadows informed his that you were done at work.

You had your first day as a receptionist for Madja and while you were excited to do something else than working in the library, you were also very nervous.

Azriel had woken up several times from you twisting in bed from not being able to sleep.

He landed in front of the office and you walked out the second you saw him. There was a lightness to your steps that Azriel never had seen before.

You also smiled from ear to ear as you walked towards him and crashed into his chest.

Gods, you’re adorable.

“I’m exhausted,” you mumbled into his chest before you took his hand and you walked towards the House. “I love it! I’ve talked to so many people. And I’ve helped a few too. Most of the time it was just pointing to the toilet and announce when it was ready for the next patient. But sometimes someone wanted to talk. And I’ve heard so many life stories! And there was a small babe that would stop crying, but then Elizabeth and Tobias started swirling around him and he stopped immediately.”

Azriel loved seeing you like this. Your smile lit up his entire heart. He couldn’t stop himself as he grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him into a passionate kiss.

Butterflies spread through his stomach. He loved kissing you. But kissing you when you were blooming with happiness was even better.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Azzie. And so does my shadows,” you said with a laugh.

Azriel first now realized the shadows that were twisted into his hair.

He tried to brush them off, but they stayed. He didn’t care. They were a part of you and he loved you so he loved them, even though they annoyed him sometimes.

“I’ve got dinner ready at home. It’s your favorite,” Azriel informed. He was very proud of himself, not as proud as he was of you of course, but proud. He had rushed home from training to have dinner ready for you as a surprise.

“Really! Chicken pasta?” You asked hopefully. Azriel noticed something off in your voice as you asked him, but he ignored it as he nodded. “Thank you soo much Azriel! I can’t wait.”

Azriel halted his steps. Your words didn’t sound sincere and Azriel immediately knew what it was.

“They told you, didn’t they?” He asked signaling towards your shadows.

You nodded carefully.

Azriel shook his head with a sigh. Now he knew what all his friends felt like when they tried to surprise him.

“Does your leg hurt?” Azriel asked you the second you walked into the training ground. “Your weight is uneven.”

“Nope, just not used to the new prosthetic yet.”

Nuan had worked on a new prosthetic for you, since your old one was malfunctioning a lot after the attack.

You had only recently started using it, so it felt very unnatural. The first day you used it was like hell. Every time you moved, you would get shooting pain in your foot. So you had taken a few days break from it.

“Okay, please let me know if it starts hurting again.”

“I will,” you answered truthfully. Azriel had been extremely helpful when you were experiencing phantom pain and you really enjoyed him taking care of you.

However, you hated when he worried and you had quickly realized that the more you told him about your chronic pain, the less he worried unnecessary.

You walked over to Nesta. She was standing with two other females. Gwyn, you knew from the library, but you didn’t know who the other female was. You could only see her magnificent wings, but clipped, illyrian wings.

“Y/N! Glad you’re finally here!” Nesta spoke the second she saw you. “This is Emerie and you already know Gwyn. This is Y/N!”

You felt comfortable talking to them, it felt nice.

“Okay, we’ll start with running,” Azriel said and everyone started running.

While you enjoyed feeling the burn in your legs and sweat on your forehead, you also felt tense. You had never been running unless it was away from danger.

The pleasant burn, soon turned painful. Your controlled breath turned into panic. And at last, the sweat turned into tears.

You were about to start your second to last lap when you felt your shadows stopping you. They carefully led you away from the path.

“You’re okay, Y/N,” Azriel soft voice told you. “You did great. You’re safe.”

His voice grounded you and soon your shadows let you loose.

Azriel got closer to you, but didn’t touch you. You moved towards him and let him hold you.

“That was scary.”

His arms tightened.

“You did great, next time you’ll get further. I’m sure of it.”

The rest of the training went surprisingly well. You did almost all the exercises correctly and only needed a little help from Azriel.

You felt very light and relaxed as you walked together with Azriel to the other side of the training ground. It was shadow time.

“You’re going to defend yourself against my shadows,” Azriel explained. “I’ll try to cover you in darkness and your shadow should try to keep your sight clear.”

“You actually think they’ll do that?”

“I know they can do it, my shadows have done it for yours. You just have to command them and commit to it.”

It annoyed you how easy he made it seem.

You stood ready and tried to calm your mind enough to concentrate properly on your shadows.

“I’ll close my eyes, so that you’ll be the only one that has control over the situation. Just ask me to stop if it gets too much.”

You nodded sharply in agreement and not even a second later, you were covered in darkness.

There was a time in your life when this would have terrified you. For example the first time your shadows covered you and you had panicked for over an hour afterwards.

But now, it only felt comforting.

The shadows danced around, they enjoyed taking a lot of space. And even though they were alert, they still sometimes hugged you as they swirled past.

And the smell. The smell was the best part. You were covered in night chilled mist and cedar. You realized you were right where you were supposed to be.

“You okay?” Azriel asked.

“Yeah, just need a little more time.”

You sent your shadows to Azriel’s shadows that were the closest to you. You made them push against them. And suddenly, even though you still felt Azriel’s shadows around you, you could see through the darkness.

You sent your shadows further, and soon you realized that it was no longer Azriel’s shadows that laid the training ground in darkness. It was yours.

So you did the most logical thing.

You shadow-walked directly in front of your mate, laid your hand at his chest and caught his lips in the softest kiss you could.

You then pulled back your shadows. They immediately began twisting into Azriel’s, asking for reassurance that they did a good job.

You were however completely lost in the sparkling hazel eyes that looked deeply into your own.

You were the luckiest fae alive. You were sure of it.

“That was awesome!” Cassian’s voice drew your attention away from Azriel.

“Yes, Y/N, it was really cool,” Emerie told you.

You felt so proud.

“What are you thinking about?” Azriel asked you as the two of you laid down in bed.

You had laid on his chest, half asleep, for the past hour as he read his book. That had become a part of your nighttime routine. His arm was resting on your waist, his shadows were playing with your hair and your shadows helped him turn the pages.

“You’ve been distracted since training earlier. Is everything okay?”

You had been thinking about the shadow training the entire day.

Even though you were proud of your achievement, you still had one question that was burning in your chest.

“Can I ask you something?”

Azriel immediately put away the book and shifted all his attention towards you.

“Of course, lovely. Anything.”

“Did you let me win over your shadows that easily?”

“You really found it that easy huh?”

“To be honest, yeah I did.”

He took some time just looking at you. By the feelings he sent down the bond you knew it was both admiration and respect, but also a little lustfulness that made you laugh.

“I didn’t make it easy for you. The opposite actually. I tried to fight back, but I couldn’t.”

You were almost speechless. He had tried to hold back, and you still managed to take control with minimal effort.

“You don’t need to look so surprised, lovely,” he said and gave your forehead a small kiss. “I have always known you were extraordinary, you just need to believe it yourself.”

From that day forward, you understood that you actually already had the courage to do exactly that.

@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch @rcarbo1 @mrsjna @kitsunetori @thecraziestcrayon @blessthepizzaman @mybestfriendmademe @scatteredstardustt @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @topaz125 @miadialila @ivy-34 @goldenmagnolias @bwormie @animalistic0

Deviders by @cafekitsune

[flowerxbunnie]

will you please write chris being a softie but also fucking you in the shower people don’t write about chris being soft enough!!!!

Steam

Chris x Fem reader

Warnings: fluff to smut, shower sex

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

The flannel sheets are tangled around us and I can feel the body heat emanating off of Chris. His hand strokes my hair as we lay facing each other, lazy smiles shared as we blink slowly and breathe in this moment.

Slow mornings with him are my favorite, he makes it feel like the weight of the world is gone. Like every breath is deep and satisfying. Everything is right.

“Your eyes are so beautiful,” he speaks in a low raspy voice still ridden with sleep.

I smile and press my lips against his as an unspoken thank you. He has morning breath, but I don’t even care.

His brown waves are messy and sticking out in every direction. His eyes are still puffy from waking and his cheeks are rosy. The sunlight coming in through the window illuminates every dip and crevice of his neck and collarbones. I can see his steady heartbeat pulsing in his neck.

His arm falls across my shoulder and he brushes my hair out of the way, his fingers tickling my back through the fabric of my sleep shirt. His eyes scan every inch of me, his pupils expanding as they roam from my face to my chest, and all the way to my arms to see the goosebumps that erupt under his touch.

“I wish we lived in the renaissance or whatever. I would learn to sculpt so I could carve you into marble.” He says while bringing his hand to brush up and down my arm.

“You.. learning to sculpt? I don’t think your attention span would allow that,” I giggle, turning over and pressing my back into his warm chest.

His arms wrap around me and his lips press a kiss into my hair before hovering over my ear. “I think I’d manage. Have you seen yourself?”

I blush and close my eyes, feeling comfort under his embrace with his breath fanning over my neck.

We spend what feels like an eternity tossing and turning in his bed. Hands roaming our bodies with a touch so light like we were made of glass, scared to shatter each other. Lips kissing whatever exposed skin we could find. Our love is tangible when we’re alone together.

Chris is always so gentle with me when nobody else is around. He has a way of making my heart swell with his words, something he keeps a secret from the world. With other people he makes himself out to be this silly boyfriend, poking fun at me, goofing off and posting ridiculous pictures of me on my birthday, telling everyone he still thinks “girls have cooties.”

But when we’re alone, he melts into the softest man I’ve ever known. He loves to be babied and cuddled, his head usually in my lap and my fingers in his hair. He whispers sweet nothings to me every morning, never letting me go a second without feeling the weight of his love. He would never tell anyone, but he bought his own camera to record snippets of our days on the beach, our hikes, our picnics at his favorite places.

We wake up a second time together after hearing footsteps shuffling on the top floor. Chris turns over to look at the clock on his nightstand, huffing as he stretches and plops his head back down onto his pillow.

“Guess it’s time to get ready for the day. Got tons of meetings later.” He says as he throws the blanket off of himself, sitting up and throwing his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Nooo, I need more of you before I have to go home,” I whine, reaching my arms out and opening and closing my hands.

“Nick and Matt are probably mad at me already, I bet they’re plotting to leave me here. As much as I’d love to rot in bed with you I really need to take a shower,” he says while digging through his drawers for boxers and socks.

I huff and pull the blanket up to my chin, watching as he moves to his closet and picks an outfit for the day. He opens the door to the bathroom and puts his stuff on the counter before walking back to my side of the bed. He leans down and grabs both of my cheeks in his hands before placing a kiss on my forehead.

“If you want to, you can shower with me?” he smiles with bright eyes and extends his hand to me.

“Hmm, fine. Fair enough.” I concede and grab his hand.

He pulls me to my feet and leads me to the bathroom, both of us squinting as I flip the bright light on. He takes his pajama pants and boxers off, tossing them in the hamper behind the door. I start to undo the buttons on my sleep shirt but his hands grasp mine and pull them away.

“Let me do it,” he whispers.

His slender fingers go slowly, carefully undoing each button as he goes lower. His eyes flick up to meet mine and I can’t help but blush. He returns his focus to his task and eventually finishes, standing back up and pushing the fabric off my shoulders. He slides my shorts down to the floor and picks both of them up to toss them in the hamper.

“I’ll wash them and get them back to you in tip top shape,” he smiles, “you can wear some of clothes home.”

I give him a nod and a smile and he opens the glass shower door, turning the knobs and checking the temperature of the water with his hand. He motions for me to step in first, so I scoot by him and gasp as the freezing water pelts against my skin.

“Oh shit baby, I’m so sorry!” He pushes me out of the way and lets the water hit him instead, turning the hot water knob to the right some more. “It felt warmer on my hands.”

“It’s okay Chrissy, just a little cold.” I say as my teeth begin to chatter softly.

He pulls me into his arms and rubs his hands up and down on my skin to warm me back up, letting the hot water fall onto the both of us. He places three soft kisses to the top of my head before pulling back and looking into my eyes.

“Can I wash your hair?” he asks sweetly.

“Mmm please,” I hum, "I love when you play with my hair.”

He reaches to the ledge on the wall and grabs my shampoo. He always makes sure to keep doubles of my favorite self care items at his house. I move my head under the water, letting it get soaked through as he pumps some of the apple scented shampoo into his hand.

He rubs his hands together to create a lather before motioning his head to tell me to turn around. I follow his instruction and face away from him, sighing as his fingertips begin to knead into my scalp. He massages the shampoo into my roots and scratches my head gently, leaving no spot untouched. I feel his hands gather the lengths of my hair and drag the shampoo down. He’s so attentive and knows I never put straight shampoo on my ends, only the leftover bubbles.

He tilts my head back so I’m looking up, making sure the water isn’t going into my face or eyes. He rinses my hair carefully, massaging my scalp again and wringing out the ends.

“Isn’t it hair mask day?” He asks while already grabbing the container.

I give a light chuckle and nod, appreciating how closely he pays attention to the little details that could so easily be forgotten. He unscrews the lid and dips his fingers into the product before replacing it and putting it back on the shelf. He rubs his hands together again and coats the ends of my hair in the deep conditioner, finger combing it to make sure it’s all coated before twisting my hair and putting it in the claw clip I leave in his shower.

“That good?” He asks as I turn around to face him again.

“Perfect, baby. My turn now.”

I reach around him and grab his sandalwood shampoo as he wets his own locks, hair sticking to his forehead before he shakes it out of his face. I stand on my tiptoes and reach up to rub the shampoo in. His hands ghost at my waist and move to grip my sides, holding me up and leaning his head down so it’s easier to reach.

“Let me rinse it so you can rest your legs,” he smiles as he releases his grip on me and brings his own hands up to his hair and washes it clean.

I grab the loofah that’s hanging on one of the knobs and coat it in body wash, lathering it and bringing it to Chris’s chest. I rub in circular motions and watch the soap glide down his stomach, parting ways as it travels down his v line. He throws his head back as I slide the loofah across his shoulders, allowing me access to his neck. He turns around and I scrub his back, appreciating the muscles in his shoulder blades that flex and stretch as he moves his arms around for me. He spins back around to grab the loofah from me and wash his own legs and feet before rinsing and hanging it back up.

“What, I don’t get lathered down?” I pout, wanting to feel the soft exfoliation of the loofah.

“Yeah, just wanna use my hands.” He shoots a small smirk my way and pumps some of the body wash into his right hand.

“Filthy boy!” I fake a gasp and can’t help but let a small giggle escape my mouth.

He doesn’t say a word, he just rubs his hands together and brings them to my shoulders, rubbing slow circles and lathering the soap onto my skin. His hands glide down my arms, following the trails of the hot water as it flows down to my fingers. He interlocks his fingers into mine, bringing them up and placing an individual kiss to the back of each hand as his blue eyes lock onto mine. His skin is pink from the water beating down on us, and I watch as droplets fall down from his hair onto his cheeks. The look in his eyes is dark but observant, as if he’s studying every pore on my skin.

His hands glide up and rub across my sternum, his gaze following every move he makes. He slips them down over my breasts and I suck in a breath, his rough palms making my nipples harden. He bites his lip as he kneads them, the soap lubricating his hands and making everything slippery.

He removes one hand and grabs the bottle of body wash, hovering it over my chest and pumping some out to land on my breasts.

“Mmm, I feel like I’ve seen this before,” he smirks at his own dirty words and rubs it in paying extra close attention to my nipples, pinching them between his fingers repeatedly.

“Chris..” I sigh out, grabbing onto his arms and squeezing, my body reacting to him just the way he likes.

“I know, I know. Shh..” he whispers, sliding his hands up to my neck and gliding them over both sides.

He brings his hands to the nape of my neck and uses his thumbs against my jaw to tilt my head back. His face inches closer and closer before he presses his forehead into mine, his small breaths heating my face up as his mouth hangs open slightly.

“I can’t help myself, Nick and Matt are gonna have to wait a little bit longer.” He says lowly before hovering his lips over mine, not touching them together yet.

Our lips are begging to collide, both of us sitting there panting into eachother’s mouths beneath the steam of the water. I wish that I could imprint this into my brain, two lovers aching for touch but having the willpower to savor the moment.

“Let them wait, then.” I say.

As soon as the last word leaves my mouth, I feel his hands pull me closer to him and his warm lips against my own. It’s a slow but hungry kiss, the sound of smacking lips and deep breaths echoing off the shower walls. His tongue swipes against my bottom lip and I open my mouth in return. He wastes no time plunging his tongue into my mouth to explore.

His big hands glide down my back and settle on my ass, squeezing it roughly before pulling me against his body. I feel his erection pressing against my stomach, a steady pulse flowing through it and beating into my skin. My core throbs and heats up in desperate need of this beautiful man in front of me.

His kisses trail from my mouth to my jaw, and each one feels like it’s branding me and burning to the bone. He goes lower, first softly kissing down my neck before sucking the tender skin on my collarbones. I let out a sigh, my body falling further into his as my muscle start to go weak.

“Such beautiful sounds, my favorite kind of music,” he whispers against my skin.

The soap now long gone, he licks at the water droplets on my chest, collecting them and slurping them into his mouth. He brings his face back up to mine, staring into my eyes and biting his lip.

“Suck me off, baby. Need to see my pretty girl on her knees.”

I drop down while gliding my hands down his wet body. His dick is at my eye level, and I lick a stripe from bottom to top with my hands on his thighs. He shudders his breath and throws his head back before looking back down at me again, reaching behind my head to take out my clip. My hair is cold as it falls down my back after being kept out of the water for so long. He notices and scoots us into a position where the water falls onto me.

I look up through my eyelashes as I place a slow kiss onto his tip, tasting the precum that had beaded up and licking it off my lips. I can’t help but let out a hum at the taste of him, perfectly salty and sweet. I take his head into my mouth and suck lightly, a groan escaping his lips as he finally gets to feel the warmth he’s been longing for.

“You look so beautiful with a cock in your mouth.” He says as he runs his thumb along my cheek. “Take it all baby.”

I grab onto his base and slowly take his length all the way in, my mouth filling with saliva as his head touches the back of my throat. His eyes flutter as he looks down at me, the most lustful but loving look on his face. I bob my head back and forth, taking him all the out and all the way back in, focusing on sucking extra hard on his sensitive tip.

He runs his fingers through my hair before wrapping the ends around his hands, holding my head still and slowly starts rocking his hips back and forth. A low moan sounds through the shower and he bites his lip harshly. I wrap a hand around his base, twisting my hand around him as he fucks into my mouth.

Seeing his face contort in pleasure and hearing the sounds as they fall past his lips has made me soaked, my pussy throbbing with need. I bring my hand down to my core and start rubbing small circles onto my clit, humming around his cock as pleasure starts coursing through my bloodstream. Chris looks down, his eyes widening and his thrusts getting sloppy at the sight.

“Look at that. My gorgeous girl touching herself with my dick in her throat. Fuck..”

I smile around him and continue pleasing myself as he pumps in and out of my mouth, his eyes flickering from my mouth to my hand. His dick starts throbbing and his hips start to betray him, his thrusts becoming uneven and sloppy before he pulls himself out of my mouth. He sighs loudly and rubs his tip against my lips a few times before grabbing my hands and helping me off my knees. He squats down and places a kiss onto each one, rubbing them to ease the ache of being on the hard shower floor.

He stands back up and immediately flips me to face the shower door, placing one hand on my upper back and one at the bottom, pushing my chest against the cold glass. He places a few kisses down my spine and I feel his hard length run back and forth across my ass. I let out a breath and put my hands against the glass, arching up as best as I can so he has better access to me.

“Can’t believe this pussy is all mine,” he whispers as he spreads me open and reveals my dripping core.

His head rubs against my clit before teasing at my entrance, and I instinctively push myself back, desperate to feel him inside of me. Without warning he shoves his hips forward and they slap against me as he bottoms out. We both moan out in pleasure as he fills me up perfectly, not a spot inside of me going untouched. He grips my hips so tightly I can feel his fingers wrapping around my hipbones.

“You like that, pretty girl? The way my cock fits in your pussy like we’re made for each other?” he questions between groans.

“F-fuck, I love it Chris.” I moan out, pressing the side of my face against the shower door.

I’m so turned on that I feel like I could cum just from him talking. He’s doing such filthy things to my body and speaking so dirty but somehow makes it feel so sweet.

His thrusts are deep and fast, hitting every sensitive spot like he’s committed them to memory. My mouth hangs open and I take deep breaths, my lungs filling up with the steam swirling in the air around us. I feel his left hand travel from my hip to my core, gliding across my skin effortlessly over the water. He uses his index and ring finger to search for my clit, pushing the pads of them down with delicious pressure as he continues fucking into me at an ungodly pace. I can’t help but cry out his name, my body becoming weak and my head swimming.

“Keep saying my name, mama. Fuck.. sounds so sweet coming from your mouth.”

“Chris… p-please Chris.. rub me. I need to cum.” I draw out in a whine.

He does just that, his fingers rubbing across my swollen clit as my stomach tightens and my body is begging to give in to my release. He brings his right hand to my breast to grope and massage it while his lips press sweet kisses onto the back of my neck. I feel his dick throbbing and his breath turns into pants and hushed curses.

“Come on baby, let go for me. Let me feel it.” He says in a strained voice as his thrusts become sloppy.

All the pressure that has built up in my core snaps as his words send me into my orgasm. I clench around his cock and ride through the waves of pleasure, repeating his name over and over like a record stuck on repeat. He continues his movements until he knows I’m done, and then he auickly pulls out and flips me around.

“Let me paint that pretty face.”

I drop to my knees and watch as he jerks himself with a tight grip, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at me. The muscles in his stomach contract as he starts pumping faster. He looks like a work of art, water gliding down his skin and hair as he inches himself closer to his climax.

I bat my eyes at him and open my mouth to let my tongue hang out, and he sucks in a breath before groaning and releasing his warm cum onto me. I feel the white strings falling onto my tongue, dripping down my neck and over my breasts, and splashing onto my forehead. He jerks until he’s too sensitive to keep going, and his body relaxes as he leans against the tile wall. His eyes run up and down my body and a smile breaks out across his face.

“Goddamn, I wish I had my camera. You look so fucking gorgeous covered in my cum.”

His words make my cheeks burn and I look away from him, but he hooks a finger under my chin and guides my face back up to meet his gaze.

“Let’s finish this shower before I get left at home and get in trouble,” he laughs and helps me stand.

I nod in agreement and we soap our own bodies down so we can finish quicker. Once we’re all rinsed and clean we hop out and dry off with our towels, stealing kisses every now and again as we get dressed. We quickly grab what we need before we have to go. We race up the stairs to the kitchen where we find Matt and Nick sitting at the table.

“God, about damn time. We’re gonna be so fucking late.” Nick sighs as he stands up from his seat.

“Sorry, slept in. The bed was too comfortable this morning.” Chris partially lies, we actually did sleep in a bit.

He shoots me a smug grin and places a kiss on my forehead as he pulls me into his warm embrace.

“Drive safe, princess. I’ll let you know when we’re done for the day and we can plan a movie night, sound good?” He asks, his voice rumbling in my ear that’s placed against his chest.

“Sounds perfect.”

[toxicanonymity]

canopy

1.5k / joel miller x fem!reader / master list

One shot (update: sequel)

Anons: he sneaks into her room at night to do it and her dad comes in to check on her at some point cause he thought he heard her "crying" so joel has to hide (under the covers with his cock still inside her or his mouth on her???) and she has to try and stay cool and collected til he leaves. WARNINGS: I8+ MDNI. Non outbreak AU, girthy age gap (reader >18), grinding, Unsafe P in V sex. Creampie. Swaddling / cockwarming.

“I dunno if you can take it, baby,” he whispers as he presses his ample hardness into the back of your silky nightgown. Joel is spooning you in your childhood bedroom, and he’s being a tease.

“What?? You know I can,” you protest quietly. You've taken it before. You're squirming with desire as your canopy flutters in the breeze of your open window.  

“Not without makin’ a fuss you can’t,” he murmurs into your hair as he slides his hand downward and presses himself into you again with a grunt.  Growing up, having a canopy on your bed made you feel like a princess. Now Joel does. Tonight, you brought down the side curtains and snuck him in.

“I’ll be quiet,” you whine, "promise."

Your hips rock into his massive hand, his flattened fingers already dripping with your desire. He rhythmically thrusts against you, big and hard. You're throbbing, aching to be filled. Your body is electric with need for him. You’d give anything to have him inside you.

“Not quiet.  Silent,” he mutters gruffly.  You get butterflies at the sound of his promising words.

You nod and don’t say a word. 

“Good girl.” 

He slips his cock between your thighs and your breath hitches.  He thrusts into the pocket of your thighs against your wet cunt, his cock sliding up to your clit and hitting his hand on the other side.  You're overwhelmed with arousal and barely able to stay quiet.  You want to beg, but he won’t hesitate to freeze if you even make a peep.  He thrusts slowly with the softest grunts muffled by your hair. Each time his cock reaches your clit you throb worse for him. 

Desperate to earn penetration, you focus and manage to be silent.  The only sound is his heavy breathing and the squish of his hard cock between your thighs, grinding wetly against your cunt, driving you crazy with desire.  

“Doin’ great, baby,” he whispers.  “Nice ‘n quiet.  Hear your pussy beggin’ for me.” 

You nod and release a breath you were holding.  

“You can take it quiet?” 

You nod. 

“Want this cock inside you?”

You nod. 

“With your parents down the hall?” 

You nod again. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. 

-

Joel slides his stiff length against your wet heat again and when he pulls back, he stops with the tip at your wet little hole.  You tilt your hips and he nestles the weeping head of his cock in line with your entrance, his hand nudging his shaft until he’s lined up just right. He slowly pushes half into you and you sharply inhale as his girth parts your core. He retreats an inch or two and slides his free hand under your neck, then clamps it over your mouth as he plunges into you full force and you moan into his hand. Even with his hand to stifle you, it's audible.

He freezes with his cock all the way inside you and growls, “What’d I say, princess?”

-

There are footsteps in the hall, approaching your door. Then your father’s voice.  “You okay, sweetie?”

Joel’s cock twitches inside you as he slowly removes his fingers from your mouth.  His heart pounds against your back.  “Yeah, Dad.”

“You sure? Thought I heard you cry.”  He pushes the door handle and cracks the door. 

“No, I’m fine, just a cough."

"it didn't sound like-"

"Please, I'm trying to sleep.”

“Sorry sweetie. Lemme know if you need anything, okay? It’s nice havin’ you home.” 

“Okay, dad.” 

“Good night.” 

-

“Night,” you say and Joel’s hand covers your mouth again as his cock slowly begins to withdraw.  

He grants you one more thrust, filling you to the brim with his girth, then he slowly pulls out and your temples feel weak. The hand on your clit slides up to cup your breast over your nightgown and the hand on your mouth loosens.  

You whine, “Joel, please,” still muffled slightly by his hand, which he then takes away.

Joel sighs.  “Not if you can’t handle it, princess.” 

You whisper,  “So you’re gonna lie here doing nothing until it’s safe to leave?”

“You know the rules.” 

You turn around and face him with angry eyes.  He looks bemused.  You reach down and grab his wet, hard cock. “I don’t like the rules,” you whisper. 

-

You crawl down the bed and he rolls onto his back, watching you.  You straddle his knees, dip your head down, and hover your mouth over his cock, looking up at him. You wrap your hand around the base and he raises his eyebrows.  You take the tip into your mouth and taste your own juices.  You lazily tongue the shaft.  You hold it loosely in your hand and even looser with your mouth, barely grazing it with your lips and tongue. He inhales a chest full of air and softly grunts at the top before letting it out. “Tryin’ to make me sorry, this ain’t the way,” he chuckles in a whisper, lifting his hips into your mouth.  

You crawl up his body with your knees straddling his thighs, then his hips, with your little nightgown skimming his cock on the way.  Then you stop with your wet cunt lightly grazing his cock.  He looks at you sternly, but when you make eye contact, his face softens to curiosity.  His chest rises and falls as you press your front against his shaft, wedging his hard dick between your bodies.  He slightly raises his knees behind your back.  You roll your slippery seam against his cock and slip a hand into your nightgown to massage your breast.  You watch a dark hunger overtake his face as your clit twitches against him. 

Joel shoots upright and wraps one arm around you, bracing the other hand behind him on the bed.  He leans back to hoist you onto his cock and covers your mouth with his own as he impales you, come what may.   You whimper quietly at the force and girth of the intrusion. He stuffs your mouth with his tongue then his lips suck firmly against yours, swallowing your moan.   You begin to regain your composure and he breaks the kiss to breathe heavily against your cheek. He tilts his pelvis down, pulling out half way, then lifts his hips into you, bottoming out again with a sigh. His strong arm holds you steady as he fucks you from the bottom. 

Joel leans back, resting his head on a stack of pillows, and brings you with him.  Your nipples harden against his soft t-shirt. He holds you still and thrusts into you, bouncing you on his cock as you’re both laid on your bed, you on top of him. Your head bobs up next to his with every thrust and you bite your lip to not make a sound. The springs of the mattress creak rhythmically.

He tightens his arm around you, holding you close to his chest, then lifts himself up with one forearm and flips you onto your back, still packed full of his cock. The silhouette of his face is gorgeous at this angle. With more control on top, his thrusts are smoother and deeper. He kisses you again as he accelerates his pace but still holds back to avoid rocking the bed.  You moan ever so quietly into his mouth as you feel yourself about to come on his cock.  “I’m-” you whisper.  

“Quiet for me. You can do it, baby.” You pinch your eyes shut and try your hardest.  

“Take a deep breath,” he says. "Hold it when you're there." Once you’re holding your breath, he grinds his pelvis into your clit as your hips lift into his and the head of his cock prods your g-spot.  You exhale as you unravel. Your clit pulses and your walls choke his cock.  "Breathe," he says between heavy breaths of his own. "Keep breathin', baby'." You take deep breaths and manage not to vocalize as your cunt flutters around him.  

“Good girl,” he says, still fucking you through it.  “You did so good, baby,” he whispers earnestly as he smoothly thrusts into you. He slowly, silently fucks you as you recover, then his breath becomes shaky and he says,  “Feel it comin'?" His brow furrows and a drop of sweat falls onto your neck.

You nod.

"Want it bad, don't ya?"

You nod again. You always want him to come inside.

"Can't get enough of it, can ya?"

You shake your head.

"Good, 'cause it's a lot, baby.”  He plunges to the hilt and pulses massively.  You breathe and sigh quietly as he empties his balls into you. You close your eyes and writhe under him with aftershocks. "God damn, baby," he breathes. "You love it when I fill ya up."

He starts to pull out and you whisper, "Don't."

"Okay, princess." He rolls onto his back again and takes you with him still joined by his cock.

You rest on top of him and he strokes your shoulder softly until you drift off.  You only wake up when his softening cock slips out of you and he gently rolls you onto your back again.  He tucks you in and says, “Night, princess.” He plants a kiss on your forehead then on your lips before he sneaks back out your window.  

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging 💗💗💗

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[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x f!reader.

part two to this fic.

after inviting blitzø to stay the night in your bed, the two of you (and the rest of i.m.p.) deal with the sudden change in the dynamic between the two of you.

features blitzø typical language, pure fluff, and sexual innuendo. the man really has a thing for your boobs, okay? 1.4k

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You wake up before your alarm, eyes opening reluctantly against the red light of a hellish morning. It takes you a moment to remember the events of the night before, but the shifting of the sheets over you as another body in the bed moves brings it all flooding back.

Both you and Blitzø had moved in the night and his hand is no longer wrapped around yours. You vaguely remember falling asleep after him, your hand still enclosed in his as his breathing had slowly evened out into a soothing, steady rhythm. His back is to you now, his body curled in on itself almost protectively. You take a moment to study him, the curve of his horns and the slim line of his back as it peeks out from under the blankets. Eventually you make a move to leave the bed, switching off your alarm and intent on a steaming shower.

You stop as something tightens reflexively around your leg as soon as you try to move, and you lift the sheets with a brow raised in curiosity. Blitzø’s tail is wrapped firmly around your calf, and as you watch, the spade of his tail twitches slowly back in forth against the underside of your knee. It’s oddly soothing, and you press your lips together against the smile that threatens to bloom on your lips. With a soft exhale you let yourself fall back against the mattress, turning your head to look at him again.

“Blitzø?” you say his name softly, almost unwilling to wake him up. You weren’t sure of the last time he’d seemed so… peaceful. You reach out to touch a gentle hand to his shoulder. “B? We’ve gotta go to work.”

The imp groans, rolling onto his back. He squints up at the unfamiliar ceiling, apparently confused. “The fuck…?”

His eyes snap fully open as the night before suddenly comes back to him, and he grimaces, slowly turning his head to meet your eye.

“Christ on a stick, I really spent the fuckin’ night here, didn’t I?”

You nod, amused by the almost bashful glint in his eyes. “You did.”

“Please tell me I at least got to bury my face in those sweet—”

“No, you didn’t.” you say bluntly, rolling your eyes before he can finish. Still, you feel a tingle of warmth through you at the suggestion. “How’d you sleep?”

He shrugs a shoulder, rubbing a hand over his face and groaning. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

“That’s what happens when you drink your weight in booze two nights in a row.”

“Bitch.”

You smirk at the lack of venom in his voice. “You wanna shower first? I don’t know if I’ve got anything you could wear, but I guess you could borrow a shirt or something if you need it…”

Blitzø groans again, more dramatically than before, rolling into your side and burying his face in your neck. You freeze as you feel the warmth of him press up against you, his face almost nuzzling into the curve of your collarbone. The sensation makes that warmth reappear inside you. The softest of cat-like purrs sounds from him for a moment before he stiffens, suddenly aware of the position he’s in.

He jerks away from you, falling off the side of the bed with a loud thump and a string of curses. The move tugs your leg across the bed, and his swearing continues as he realizes he’s effectively tied himself to you in his sleep. “Fuckin’ – ASS!”

His tail detangles itself from your leg as you sit up, and you swear you can see a pinkish hue to the scarred side of his face.

“…You good?”

“Shut up.”

“Nope,” you reply childishly, smirking when he flips you off. “Now, did you want to shower?”

Blitzø tries for seductive, raising an eyebrow at you from where he still sits on the floor. “You joining me? ‘Cause I gotta say the idea of you all soaped up and gag—”

“Blitzø.” you deadpan, climbing out of bed. His eyes drop over your figure as he realizes what you had been wearing in bed with him – just an oversized tee shirt and your underwear – and you swear his pupils dilate. “Are you sober yet?”

He blinks up at you, swallowing heavily before clearing his throat. “Judgin’ by the titty-fuckin’ brass band shovin’ its collective dick up my brain’s unlubed ass right now, I’d say yeah.”

You wrinkle your nose at the metaphor but squat down in front of him, studying his face for a moment. You nod as you make a decision, reaching out to wipe a spot of dried drool away from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. “Okay.”

Ignoring the part of you that reminded you that this was a bad idea, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his in a chaste kiss, his cheek still cupped in your hand. Blitzø freezes for a moment before kissing you back, his hand finding your knee and sliding up to curl around the bare flesh of your thigh as he leans up into it. You feel his breath catch against your mouth, his tongue touching your bottom lip for a second. The kiss is soft and it’s brief and when you pull away Blitzø still looks surprised.

Giving him a small smile you stand, fingers curling in the hem of your shirt. “I’ve gotta shower. The coffee machine should start brewing in a few minutes if you want some.”

“I… what?!”

***

Loona doesn’t say anything when she climbs up into the van beside you, trapping you between the hellhound and the imp driving, but her raised eyebrow speaks volumes.

“Nothing happened.” you tell her defensively.

“Uh-huh.” Loona replies dryly, already focused on her phone, and you can basically feel Blitzø’s smirk on the other side of you. By the time you were showered and dressed he’d managed to summon up much of his usual bravado, and the fact that he was currently wearing your favorite 666 Wrath Radio tee shirt was serving as basically a spotlight broadcasting the idea that the two of you had fucked.

You suspect that that was the whole reason he picked it.

You jump as you feel Blitzø’s hand slide over your thigh as he reaches between your knees to shift gears. He touches you again as he withdraws, claws grazing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Goosebumps follow after them. You shiver and he snickers, and suddenly you’re regretting the fact that you’d chosen to wear shorts.

Loona eyes you as she notices the touch, and you roll your eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“Sure.”

***

“Is Blitzø wearing your shirt?” Moxxie asked as you entered the I.M.P. office, drawing Millie’s attention too. “Why is he wearing your shirt?”

A smile forms on Millie’s lips, her eyes shining with possibility. “Did you two…?”

“No!” you reply, dropping onto the couch with a sigh. “For Satan’s sake, no!”

Moxxie seems to be still stuck on the obvious. “But he’s wearing your shirt.”

“Aw, come on, Moxx.” Blitzø says, wrapping an arm obnoxiously around the other imp and pulling him unwillingly into his side. He ruffles Moxxie’s hair with his fist, grinning as he tries to shove him away. “You know if we’d fucked Y/N here would need the day off just to get those sexy little legs of hers workin’ again after all the shakin’ they’d been doin’!”

“Shut the fuck up, B,” you tell him as Moxxie finally manages to wrest himself Blitzø’s grasp, and the taller imp grins at you. “Or I’ll tell ‘em what actually happened last night. Okay, boss?”

“Ooh, ‘boss’? Tits, you’re gonna go and make me all tingly.”

You roll your eyes, but his smile widens from teasing to more pleased as he notices you trying not to smile yourself. “Can we just… go kill someone? Please?”

Blitzø claps his hand together, turning on his heel to face Loona. “Now you’re talking! Looney, what have we got on the books for today?”

Millie takes a seat beside you, leaning into your side to speak quietly enough that only you would hear. “What did happen last night?”

You shake your head, avoiding her eye. Blitzø catches your eye again as Loona goes through the day’s agenda in a detached tone of voice. He winks and you feel yourself flush. Millie’s eyebrows shoot up as she notices.

You clear your throat. “I… honestly, I've got no fucking idea.”

[yrbladie]

♡ ﾟ˖ ॱ ▎THE WAY THEY HOLD YOU IN THEIR HEART PT1ㅤ𝅄 🌿 ꒱

˖ ࣪ kaeya, neuvillette, childe, albedo, diluc

warnings ：established relationship, fluff, implied marriage, gn! reader, reader is called pretty tho (kaeya) so if this word carries feminine feelings for u be warned, just a tad bit suggestive at the end with neuvillette, mentions of aging (neuvi), implied long hair (albedo) and reader is also called a 'muse', I'm not fluent in english so I don't know if this word carries any feminine connotations, but it's warned anyway, implied reader wanting kids in the future kinda (diluc), if they're ooc I'm sorry, non fluent writer

ㅤWhen people look at Kaeya, they see his charming smile and the misleading way he conducts himself, like a well played play no one has the guts to call him out of.

ㅤWhat you see, instead, is a gentle man with the softest of hearts. The one who stays up just a little bit later after you sleep, so that he can look at you, admire you. The one who caresses your face with such tenderness that makes you wonder if he thinks you'll disappear if he were to touch you in the slightest wrong way.

ㅤYou see the way his smile drops the second he walks into your house after a tiring day. The way he sighs deeply. Sights that are only reserved to you, because he trusts you more than anything.

ㅤThe Kaeya you see outside of your shared home, his provoking grin and convinced looks, is also the same one who lays in bed with you in a night without stars, his head on your chest while he quietly listens to your heartbeat. His hand in yours like he wants to make sure you're still there with him. That you're not leaving.

ㅤAnd you tell him, "I love you" and you'll see the way his eye softens while he kisses your forehead. He doesn't say back, but you know he also loves you, for no words are needed for it.

ㅤYou know, from the way he talks about you and your achievements in the bar, when he had a little bit too much to drink. Who looks back at you when you come to get him home, and smiles like he's just seen the sun for the first time after a long while.

ㅤThe same Kaeya that tells you "How lucky I am to have snatched someone as pretty as you.", and also who blushes so hard when you tell him the same.

ㅤThe Kaeya that follows you during your dances and singing, even though he says he doesn't like the songs. This Kaeya, and the one that he shows to everyone else are the same. And you love all of him.

ㅤHis nightmares pierce your heart painfully and his dreams are also yours. His touch that lingers in your skin even after he's already left for work and you're far away from each other. His voice and laugh stays in your ears, making you think of him for the entire day.

ㅤAnd you know that for him it is also the same, from the way he always hugs you so tight after he finishes his work or when he has a break and finds you on the street.

ㅤYou're not scared of the shadows of his secrets, and you'll never be. You don't want him to be perfect, you just want him.

ㅤAnd Kaeya also wants you too. He wants you to be the one that everyday he'll come home to, the one he can share all his pain, happiness, sadness, his success and also his frustrations. He doesn't want only the good, he wants everything that comes with it, with you.

ㅤYou love him, and he loves you too.

ㅤNeuvillette loves you so deeply he starts to wonder if it truly is okay with that. If you are truly okay with it, with the intensity of his love for you. Because not even he knows to which lengths he'll go just to have you by his side for a second longer.

ㅤHe wants you to show him all there is about love, and about this life. Share your pain and laughter with him and he'll share his with you. He wants you to know that it's okay, that things get better with time and care.

ㅤEvery day he learns something new about feelings and humanity, but mostly about love. Seeing you smile over silly things, crying over having to leave a cute little bunny go back to the wilderness. Watching your back while you guide him through the streets while rambling about your favorite book or about a new play you heard about. And caressing your hands while you both drink tea in his office and listening to your giggle when he says he still prefers water.

ㅤNeuvillette never knew you could fall in love with the same person multiple times a day, but he does. No matter how much time passes, his heart still beats out of his chest whenever he catches wind of your perfume and the idea of having you by his side still makes his hands sweat.

ㅤYou gave him a purpose, taught him what loving meant under the surface. And Neuvillette felt like he would never learn enough. The judge knew you would change slowly by the years, but he hoped you would never fret over the lines of your smile, he loves it all the same. It just shows how much happiness he has brought you.

ㅤNo matter how long time goes by, how much your face changes, he'll always know your soul. And he could love it anyways, anywhere, anytime.

ㅤHe will always recognize you and will never forget about how it feels to be loved by you.

ㅤSo if you'll have him, allow him to love you for the rest of your life. Allow him to love you until even after all the stars in the night sky die, until eternity doesn't taste the same anymore, and all he can sense in the water are the memories of you.

ㅤAllow him to love you until all his dreams and fondest memories are of you. Until the only touch that'll matter are the ones that comes from your fingers.

ㅤUntil the time he has finally traced every little part of your body and has kissed every single freckle you have. Until he has kissed your lips more than a million times and knows he would do it a million times more.

ㅤFor all the eternity he could have, the forever he saw in your eyes was his favorite.

ㅤHis hands shake when he thinks about you. He'll sit and wonder if you're well and healthy, if you already had dinner or if you're still waiting for him back home.

ㅤHis heart races when he remembers each of your smiles. All the specific upturns of your lips that makes him want to kiss your breath away.

ㅤAnd he gets impatient to go back to your arms when he remembers the way you tried to hold onto his sleeve and asked him for one more minute in bed. He wished— he should've— have stayed.

ㅤBut he knows he can't always be glued to your side. Maybe you'll even hate him if he does.

ㅤSo he makes sure to spend every hour of his day to keep you safe, it doesn't matter if it keeps him from his work. He may love his job, but he loves you much more.

ㅤHis lackeys are so tired everyday to have to sit through his ramblings about you and they dread the moment he chooses some of them to guard you. Don't get them wrong, they agree that you're definitely a lovely person and that you're always gentle with them despite the reputation the Fatui have, but the one they can't stand is Tartaglia.

ㅤHe's an absolute menace if he gets even a whisper of you getting hurt under the watch of one of them. It may have been only a scratch on the knee, it doesn't matter.

ㅤChilde can be a bit... overbearing when he can have you back in his arms again, but bear with him just a bit longer, just until he makes sure you're actually safe and that nothing happened.

ㅤAnd of course, he loves to see you fight and he'll be your biggest cheerleader, not mattering if you're actually a good fighter or not, but most of all, he wants you to be safe. Due to the nature of his job, and all he has already seen in this world, he's scared.

ㅤScared that if he takes his eyes from you for one second you may be taken away to somewhere he won't be able to follow. Somewhere that not even with all his fighting skills and abilities he'll be able to reach.

ㅤChilde had no idea of how hard he was going to fall for you when he met you and sometimes he wonders what would be of him if he never had found you and you never found him. But he prefers to not linger on these thoughts, having you right now is all that matters. Loving you right now is what matters most. And if he loses you... he'll have nothing but his family to hold his slipping rationality before losing himself.

ㅤSo even if you can really, really fight and protect yourself well, please, just at least allow him to watch over your back for you. He's the best partner you could have in an adventure, so have a little faith in him.

ㅤAnd if you fall, don't worry, Childe will catch you before you hit the ground. He'll always be right by your side at your arms length.

ㅤHe wants to be there for you, no matter what. To hold your hand while treading new paths and exploring the world.

ㅤIf you were to ever ask for the moon, or for the stars, Childe will do everything he can to get them for you. He'll search around the entire world for ways to get you even a piece of the unreachable sky.

ㅤHe'll make Celestia burn and the Abyss freeze if you so ask for it.

ㅤHe wants to be there with you when you open your eyes in the morning, and when you close them at night. For the rest of his and yours lives. He'll love you until there's nothing of him anymore. And if this world burns, then so be it, as long as he can have you and his family safe by his side.

ㅤ"Love is such a beautiful concept, is it not?" he says while showing you drawings he made of you. And he couldn't help but smile at the amazed look you had and the way your eyes sparkled with curiosity.

ㅤAlbedo is not someone who will usually voice out everything he thinks. But you still know he loves you.

ㅤBy the way he gently tucks your hair back when you're immersed doing something you like, and you can see his tender eyes before he turns around to go about with his own activities.

ㅤAnd by the way he doesn't try to hide his notebook from you, for all there is are images of you. You have seen it all a thousand times already, but you'll always find joy seeing how he envisions you in his heart and mind. It looks so intricate that you wonder if you truly look like this, and he tells you that, yes, you're the closest to perfection a human could be.

ㅤHis drawings show you something that no mirror could. Something not even your eyes notice. But Albedo does, he notices every single little detail about what makes you, you. All your small imperfections and flaws, the things you hate and find ugly are the ones he'll hold most dearly in his hands.

ㅤYou're the ruler in the kingdom of his mind, the muse to his artist heart, the soothing melody to his unresting soul.

ㅤYou know all there is to know about him, about his woes and dreams, his aspirations, his shadows that clutch at his ankles like paint, staining his being.

ㅤAnd you'll tell him, "I don't mind it." even if it stains your hands, as long as you can carefully hold his heart in them, with all the love he has for you, you truly don't mind it. In fact, you love him more for it.

ㅤYou'll kiss at his golden locks and let him admire you with his sky painted eyes. He admires you like one would a butterfly, so within his reach but he'll much rather have you fly freely, showing to the entire world your beauty.

ㅤFor he knows, you love him just as much as he loves you. In that, he'll never have a doubt.

ㅤThat is how he loves you, completely, totally, calmly and wholeheartedly. Like a peaceful stream unperturbed by the exterior.

ㅤHe may not completely understand yet what love is, but he thinks he kind of gets it a tad bit more every moment he spends with you.

ㅤWhen you're hurting under the surface, Albedo will kiss at every single one of your fingertips, taking his time to show you how much he loves you. He won't say anything until you're ready to talk with him. And he'll always know, you don't even need to tell him directly. He'll know by the way the tension on your shoulders finally eases and the way you gently close your eyes, one, two seconds and then he'll talk.

ㅤHe'll tell you how important you are to him and that there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. That if you want, you can share your burdens with him and he'll hold it for as long as you need while you rest. For you, he would hold the entire world on his shoulders for eternity and he wouldn't mind it if that gave you peace of mind.

ㅤAnd you know he's being sincere.

ㅤEven if you know that he could destroy everything around him one day, it doesn't matter. Now, you feel safer than ever in his embrace and you have faith in his love for you.

ㅤDiluc's love is like the rays of the sun during the earliest hours of the morning. It never burns but also never leaves you cold. It warms up your skin and blooms in your chest like wildflowers.

ㅤHis love is the type that lingers on you and on the surroundings even when he's gone for a long time. In the clothes you wear that he gave to you as a gift on your last birthday, in the bed sheets that smell like the perfume you bought for him for his birthday and that he says it's his favorite.

ㅤOne day you realize how everywhere in his once cold and lonely manor is now filled by the warmth shared between you. Filled with the gifts bought with love, and the pictures on the walls of the both of you. And it makes you fall in love with him all over again.

ㅤIn the kitchen there's the tea set from Liyue you had bought together from Marjorie. In the living room there's the blankets in the couch you both share during the coldest of nights in winter, while sitting by the fireplace, warming each other. In the bathroom there's yours and his toothbrushes that even though he always complains about hygiene and that each should use their own, even he sometimes confuses the two similar toothbrushes and uses yours.

ㅤIn your room there's the shared cabinets and shelves, with things from far away and pictures from everywhere, even the books you read together before bed by the desk.

ㅤYou fall in love with him again, with his smile, and his contained laughter when in public, with the way he looks at you every time you visit him in the tavern or when he sees you from afar. You hung the stars and the moon in his sky, you brought the sunlight to his dawn.

ㅤYou knew you would love Diluc for forever on the day he brought you along to visit his father's grave, and instead of silently staring at it, he spoke about you. Spoke about his love for you, and about everything you did for his life. He knew his father would be proud of him for finding you, for giving love a chance again.

ㅤYou both mourned together on that day, embracing each other under the blessing of the whispers in the wind, that softly carried the scent of memories from childhood.

ㅤAnd you still remember the day where you met Kaeya. The way he silently thanked you for being by his brother's side when he couldn't anymore. To receive not only the Cavalry Captain, but your lover's brother's blessing meant a lot for you. You knew they both still held each other in high regards. And most of all, you knew Kaeya would do anything to see Diluc happy, just as you would too.

ㅤYou look through the window of your home, to the garden and the vineyard, reminiscing about shared days, of laughter, of slightly younger times. When you used to hide behind the grapes to play a prank on Diluc. When the both of you held hands while taking a walk through the garden, discussing about one day making a playground somewhere there. For the kids that'll visit you during Thanksgiving, or one day...

ㅤThen, you feel arms around you and you smile, recognizing so easily the warmth that spreads around your body. While laying back your head on his chest, there's no need to exchange words as you both already know each other's hearts so well.

ㅤEverything will be okay, his heart mutters to you, I know, yours whispers back.

ㅤYou're happy, and you're content. And you couldn't have wished for more nor less than that.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ(★)

all the edits belong to me, so pls don't use them <3

ty for reading 💗

tagging : @yuellii

[zolass]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗞𝗶𝘀𝗺𝗲𝘁

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ···─KISMET with ACHILLES

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFeaturing; Ares and Ajax

ㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacters by @yanderefarm

Summary: The day you brought Achilles home, was the day where you end up as the fiancé. wc: 1k

tags; fluff ig, some dark stuff maybe idk, blood :) and Ares attacking reader, +

KISMET destiny; fate.

Note: I'm gonna be honest I brain farted this one so bad because I wanted to make a fluffy one which was really cute but I end up w this.

Anyways Achilles will get his redemption with other scenerios etc.

Hope y'all enjoy.

When did it come to this? You were awkwardly sitting in the living room, while Achilles sat beside you happily chatting away with his family, while you simply held his hand. There were a lot of rather hostile glances thrown at you, even though Achilles was supposed to be the leader, he was still obviously the most softest mentally wise and so more seen as the innocent child.

Not that they made it known as it definitely would upset Achilles.

So it was no surprise that they were rather shocked that Achilles brought someone home to a rare family dinner, thinking you corrupted the other’s mind. They weren’t so far off, but you didn’t plan for things to go like that. 

All you could do now was simply wait for the day to end, as you simply wanted to bring him back to his family. Favorable it would be, if you didn’t exactly die after you step out of their house. That means all you  could do was pray.

“How did the two of you meet? I mean you got kidnapped and suddenly you’re coming home with a stranger,” Ares stared you down, his eyes were cold and calculating. As if he knew exactly who you are and what you did.

You continued to stare back at Ares, as if the first one to look away would get struck by lightning. Well you did have guilt in your gut and it made it harder and harder to continue, Achilles slightly tapped your shoulder, making your attention waver back to him. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern. Your throat felt dry, so you simply nodded at him with a small smile.

Suddenly there was a pain in your shoulder, and a gasp left Achilles throat as he stared in shock and panic. You quickly turned your head to see a knife plunged into your shoulder. The erratic voice from Achilles got slightly high pitched, as his hands hovered above your shoulder while he was clearly panicking. 

The pain in your shoulder was rather immense and the blood sweeping into your shirt was like a small blur, as you simply watched as Ares stood just a bit away from you with clear hate in his eyes. Achilles' other brother, Ajax also didn’t do anything. He simply watched as and sipped on his wine, a smirk playing on his lips, “Now that’s going to be interesting,” you heard, before you were grabbed by your arm. You looked to the side and saw Achilles with tears in his eyes, his brows were pulled into a frown as he led you away.

Ares simply scoffed as he watched the two of you. 

Maneuvering you to his bedroom, Achilles had the help of a elderly lady as they treated your new wound. It wasn’t long until you were simply sitting there on the large bed, while Achilles was clinging to you. 

“I asked Lindsey if she should call one of our private doctors to check on you, he’ll be here soon, but don’t worry just rest,” you heard Achilles say, before your vision turned dark.

While you were sleeping, at least that’s what Achilles hoped, he waited for the doctor while keeping a close eye on you. The door was pushed open and his three family members waltzed in, and as he saw the nonchalant in Ares' eyes making the anger and disappointment in his gut flare up again.

Before the doctor came there was an argument that broke out between the brothers, which soon ended up with the silent treatment that they gave each other. Of course Achilles loved his brother, and Ares loved him just as much. This is also why he did what he did, simply to protect his brother.

When you woke up you found Achilles cuddled up to your form, your arm was treated better now. Through your stirring did Achilles wake up, and before you could say anything he littered your face with kisses. You gently held his shoulders, hoping for him to get the message.

You didn’t hate the kisses, in fact it gave you a funny feeling in your stomach. But as you saw the sad look in his eyes, you couldn’t help but give him a kiss on his forehead. “Did something happen while I was out?” you asked, Achilles simply gave you a shy smile, making you unsure of what to expect.

It could’ve been a lot, but not you seated yet again on the couch in the living room, the older man, their father, was sitting rather relaxed on the couch with a cup of tea, Ajax was playing on the console some questionable game, and then there was Ares seated right across from you with a blank face. “So fuckface,” were the words from Ares which started the ‘conversation’ “My brother told us how the two of you met– to say the least I would rather gut you and let your corpse disappear in a ditch, but I don’t want my brother to hate me. So I sadly have to say; welcome to the family– dear brother-in-law.”

Ares' words surprised you, especially the last part, but you simply had to ask Achilles afterwards, “Well you’re also not the nicest pair of shoes I would pick,” you said and Ares just raised his eyebrow at your words, “What does shoes have to do with it? Are you perhaps–” he did a motion with his hand that you didn’t quite understand, making the red head across from you roll his eyes, “Are you gay?” he asked.

“Who’s gay? Me? But I never-” suddenly Ajax started to speak up in a panic, staring with wide eyes at the four of you. Ares simply rolled his eyes annoyed, “Just continue playing your game Aja.” 

At the end of the day, you asked what Ares meant with brother in law, which was when Achilles told you that they wouldn’t kill you, if you married him. Which in this case, Achilles agreed to.

“It seems to be kismet, Y/n.”

[vorfreudevortex]

4. breathe

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic // redline masterlist

warnings // 6.3k words - swearing, alcohol, smoking, reckless driving (duh), all characters in college or recently graduated, mount hakone's details are not accurate for the sake of the story so pls don't try to clown me for it, descriptions of blood (cut from glass) mdni - small smut scene in a car (towards the end), fingering, handjob, clit stimulation, nipple stimulation, praise, nipple play, dry humping, multiple orgasms, petnames, whiny ino who's kinda obsessed with you lmao

if you can spot the ford vs. ferrari reference, i'll marry you rn

the vibes for chapter four

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

the next morning you’re pouncing on suguru’s bed, anxious to get him awake and back to the mountain. “go back to sleep,” he groans, burying himself deeper beneath the blankets. his face is barely visible beneath his bedhead, and his morning voice is deep and hoarse.

“please, sugu?” you pull out his childhood nickname in your softest, sweetest voice. he just huffs.

“call toru or ken. i’ll meet you out there later.”

“how much later?”

“dunno…” he’s already drifting back to sleep.

fine, then. after breakfast with your papa, you group facetime the boys. ken answers right away and immediately asks if everything is alright, already awake and dressed. toru answers on the last ring from bed, obviously woken up by his blaring phone. his white hair lays flat against his forehead and eye boogers hang from his long lashes.

“what do you want…” he hisses with a pouty frown. unlike suguru, satoru’s morning voice is light and whiny.

“ew, toru! your eye boogies are huge!” you laugh. you see the corners of kento’s lips twitch up as well.

“i’ve got something even bigger,” satoru’s mind works in mysterious ways.

“oh my god, you pervert—”

“—truly disgusting behavior,” kento adds.

“i was calling to tell you to meet me at mount hakone right away, but i’m rethinking it since i don’t wanna catch chlamydia from potential contact with you.”

“wow— okay, first of all, i don’t have any diseases,” satoru rolls his eyes. “and it’s not like suguru would let me anywhere near you in the first place—”

“—as he should,” kento frowns.

“get out of bed or i’m telling him you said that!”

“tell him what? i didn’t say anything,” satoru scoffs.

“i’ll tell him what you insinuated—”

“—okay, relax,” he interrupts with a huff. “i’m getting dressed right now.”

✰✰✰✰✰

you end up spending the entire day tearing through the pass, anxious to keep shaving down your time and memorize each remaining detail of the roads. it’s completely empty when you first arrive, except for kento leaning against the back fender of his car waiting for you. he very thoroughly checks your motor and brakes for you before agreeing to ride along during your first turn.

“would you like me to keep an eye on the handbrake for you?”

“nah, i got it,” you respond, pulling the helmet over your head. you don’t want to wear it but you know that kento will say something if you don’t. “just time me, please.”

he gives you gentle advice and reminders during the 8.5 miles, you make sure to soak up every word. kento might not race anymore, but he can read a road and engine better than anyone else, aside from your brother. he can still keep up with suguru and satoru if he chooses to.

8:40:22 — just one second slower than inumaki.

satoru rolls in by the time you’re ready for your second turn. he lazily slouches in the passenger seat but reaches up to grip the door handle when you shoot off the starting line.

“where’d you learn to drive so aggressively?” he asks. “there’s no way you picked this up from me.”

“maybe i did,” your voice is slightly muffled beneath the roaring motor and the cushioned helmet. “i’m trying to concentrate, please stop talking.”

you tear your helmet off and kento pulls you out of the car — 8:40:52.

“how did i manage to go slower that time?!” you whine.

“don’t worry too much about it,” kento reassures. he notices your trembling frame, adrenaline pumping viciously through your veins from the drives. “take a break now.”

by the time suguru arrives with gas and lunch, you’re itching to go again. he makes satoru race beside you so you can get more comfortable with another car on the road. on your 5th time back, a few others including okkotsu, inumaki, takuma and his team are parked on the shoulder. he wears his rough demeanor now, shoulders hunched and missing a smile. it’s completely different from the giddy attitude he had with you at the skate park. but his back straightens when he spots you, unable to hide the lively look in his eyes.

“what’s all this?” takuma’s playful voice rings out as he approaches the phantoms with his friends in tow.

“clutch got a new ride,” satoru sings, placing a hand on each of your shoulders as you sheepishly smile. “and it’s twice as fast as yours.”

“i don’t doubt it,” he smiles, and lets his eyes fall on you. you can feel both kento and suguru’s sharp glares in the back of your head.

“damn, these are some nice wheels,” choso comments as he crouches down to get a better look at them.

“this wide body kit was installed well,” todo nods. megumi just stands silently with his hands in his pockets beside takuma, letting his eyes rake over your silvia. he doesn’t have to say anything for you to know he approves.

“what do you need, ino?” your brother asks.

“just came to talk with gojo and run a few before the race tonight,” takuma shrugs.

“then go somewhere else and do it,” suguru waves him off. “my sister runs first.”

“are you’re racing tonight?” takuma’s eyes widen as they land back on you. “who?”

“toge inumaki,” your brother answers you before you can. in suguru’s mind, takuma does not need to be talking to his sister directly. “the one who just pulled up in the s13.”

“ah, he’s not too bad. i’ve seen him around,” he glances across the way at him and okkotsu, who watch your conversation and wait for you from afar. takuma turns back to you with another sweet smile. “good luck tonight, clutch! i know you’ll do—”

“—get the fuck out of here, ino.”

your face is bright red when takuma walks away. suguru angrily mutters something about the the inappropriate use of your nickname before lighting a cigarette, and kento looks away when you meet his gaze. you don’t dare say a word. for an unknown reason, in the depths of your brain, you like when takuma's cheekiness riles up your brother.

“fucking prick,” suguru mumbles through puffs of smoke, before putting the helmet back in your hands. “put this on and go before he comes over here again.”

✰✰✰✰✰

takuma ino: i see why u been busy this past week 

you: i’m so sorry, i’ve barely been on my phone

takuma ino: don’t even worry bout it :) it was worth the wait ur silvia looks sick af takuma ino: ur gonna kick ass tonight too i just know it!!

you: i’m sososososo nervous you: do you think you’ll beat toru tonight?

takuma ino: no doubt about it takuma ino: are u still down to go out tonight after? for ur bday?

you: yes!! i already have my outfit picked out!!

takuma ino: i can’t wait.. i know ur gonna look so pretty takuma ino: u better not bail if u don’t win ur race

you: i won’t!

takuma ino: good i’ve missed u :) good luck tonight pretty

you: good luck kuma!!

✰✰✰✰✰

you sit back on your hands with your knees bent up, letting the cool road attempt to ease the boiling blood in your veins. your toes wiggle in your white converse, and your nails pick at ashphalt. shoko sits beside you, puffing on a cigarette, letting you sneak a hit or two when suguru isn’t looking to help calm your nerves. the chattering crowd and booming subwoofers on the shoulders are nothing more than a murmur in your ears, you’re too anxious to focus on anything except your upcoming race.

“you’ll do great,” shoko smiles. “i heard that people are betting for you.”

“really? betting on me?”

“uh huh. the streets say that there’s no way you’re slower.” even if shoko’s just making it up to make you feel better, it’s working.

you’ve spotted takuma and the shadows a couple times. his face is stern, he doesn’t even look at anyone else. the phantoms are bent over your engine, feet on top of the starting line. kento checks, double checks, triple checks everything while suguru nosily watches over his shoulder, ensuring he doesn’t miss anything. he knows he won’t. satoru yaps about everything and nothing at all. he’s not nervous for his race with ino, he’s raced him a handful of times before. he’s both won and lost, and tonight there’s money on the line. 

suguru helps you to your feet when inumaki’s headlights come over the hill, but you don’t hear any of the words coming out of his mouth. your mind is far away. inumaki parks beside you, the nose of the car placed just before the starting line. he’s right on time.

inumaki doesn’t wear his mask tonight. the floodlights reveal his flushed, tattooed cheeks as he steps out of his car. the boys start talking with okkotsu, and inumaki points to you before holding his palms face down in front of him with a gentle shake.

“am i… nervous?” you question, and he nods.

“uh, yeah… i’m pretty nervous,” your voice shakes. he points to himself, then holds up two fingers. me too. his slender fingers fly gracefully in the air through his dumbed-down version of sign language for you. you will do great!

“you, too!” you smile, and your stomach starts to flip in on itself as the boys finish helping okkotsu check over inumaki’s engine. you’ll be off any minute now. kento closes inumaki’s hood with a loud wham and the boys close in around you.

suguru looks nice tonight, with the top half his hair pulled up in a neat bun, black jeans, and a deep purple oversized hoodie over a plain white shirt. he comes over and picks a piece of lint from the fabric of your top before brushing his fingers through your hair, silently calming your tension with ease.

“ready?” suguru asks.

“ready,” you smile, holding your hand out for inumaki to shake. he graciously accepts it with a wide grin and a polite bow. you settle in the silvia, all four of the group hanging their heads in through the windows.

“we talked to okkotsu,” satoru chirps. “they won’t do anything stupid.”

“relax, girl. you’re gonna do great,” shoko says.

“remember to breathe,” kento reminds. “drive safely.”

“put this on and do not take it off,” suguru pushes the helmet into the car as the others leave. he pecks your cheek before you pull it over your hair. “as long as you do the same thing you’ve been doing, you’ll win.”

“i’m nervous, nii-chan.”

“you have nothing to be nervous about,” he fastens the chin strap, pulling twice to check. “listen to what your gut is telling you, don’t try to fight it.”

“which marker will you be at again?” your shaky fingers fumble with the seatbelt.

“mile 4,” suguru’s voice is smooth and light, the solidity you need right now. your mind whirs as he helps you with the harness, tugging another two times. “ken’s at 2 and toru’s at 3 so we can be here when you get back, don’t worry.”

“what if something goes wrong?” every possible concern you've had is now bubbling out, you can’t quiet it.

“sshhh,” suguru hushes. “that’s what your radio is for. keep it tuned to what ken set it on and use the walkie-talkie in your console if you need help. your phone won’t work well out there. you’re gonna be just fine.”

you nod under the helmet and turn the ignition. you shift uncomfortably in your seat as it comes to life, humming and purring under the hood.

“listen to me,” he turns your head to face him. “you’re gonna do great. you’re faster than inumaki. you’ll win, no doubt about it. drive just like i taught you, okay?”

“okay.”

“i’m proud of you, clutch. drive safe. i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

with a handsome grin, he taps the side of the door and leaves. you look to your left, inumaki smiles at you through his window and holds up a sign. good luck. you return the gesture with a trembling hand. the flag girl takes her place between the cars. your heart pounds relentlessly. you spot takuma and his team, they made sure to park close. takuma waves with a warm smile, and you return it since the boys have disappeared into the mountain, unable to see the forbidden interaction.

the flag girl raises her arms. your sweating hands grip and release around the wheel, over and over again. just feel it. your feet press into the pedals. your tires spin. she throws her arms down. without a hesitation, the brake is released. the silvia lurches forward, finally free to run. your cloudy mind completely clears as you tear through the straight. inumaki is right by your side as your approach the first turn.

downshift. brake. you slow down first. inumaki starts to lead. damn it. breathe. the rear tires lose traction, you feel it.

turn, turn, turn— feather, feather, feather— not too much, not too little.

you both shoot out of the corner, the nose of the car practically touching inumaki’s back fender. breathe. focus. 

“mile 1, inumaki in the lead,” okkotsu’s voice barely registers in your ears. do it again, better this time. you veer beside him.

downshift. brake. inumaki slows first. do you take him over? do you wait? kento’s warning echoes through your hazy thoughts… you’ll wait this time, you’ll be safe.

you slow as well, he’s still ahead. downshift. brake. feel. breathe. both cars’ tires scream into the night, their sounds almost harmonizing.

turn. feather. the gauge violently redlines, trembling on the dash. it’s exactly where it should be. it’s better than last time. breathe.

your roaring silvia and inumaki’s s13 enter a small patch of straight highway. this is your chance. throwing it back into gear, you attempt to push your way ahead of inumaki. he tries to chase you. the third turn, the hairpin, flies towards you. it’s too fast, you feel it. slow it down. brake. breathe.

“mile 2, inumaki in the lead,” kento’s voice calls out through your radio, you barely notice his blurry silhouette as you fly by him.

icy air blasts from the vents. your hair is crammed and damp under the helmet, but your bare arms have a shield of goosebumps. your trembling hand grips the shifter, the leather wet from your sweaty palms. breathe.

hard brake. downshift. brake. it’s coming. it’s coming. not quite… it doesn’t feel right… almost—

now.

you clamp your fist around the handbrake, yanking it towards you in one swift, smooth motion. the familiar feeling of the rear tires locking up surges through the car and into your bones. rubber screeches and the motor sings as it redlines. the back end swings around, almost farther ahead than the nose, but not quite.

just like your contorting body on takuma’s skateboard, the car teeters on the edge of losing control. unlike that balmy evening with your hands clamped to his soft shirt, tonight your hands are clammy around the stiff steering wheel.

and unlike the skateboard, letting the car slip away from your control is simply not an option.

you’re practically weightless, floating through the air like a haunting ghost, and you’re once again addicted to the feeling. breathe, just one more split second of bliss to savor—

“clutch leads into mile 3!” satoru’s giddy voice fills your ears. focus— you didn’t even notice how you had squeezed between the guardrails and inumaki’s wide drift to slip in front.

turn, feather. handbrake down, upshift. breathe.

you glance down at the dashboard and gauges. everything kento and papa taught you about them looks exactly how they should. the silvia craves more, you feel it. you do, too. inumaki is only a few feet behind you, but you’re gradually gaining more and more on him. you're winning, it sends another rush of thrill through your bones.

with one hand, you flip open the center console and snatch the walkie-talkie. a finger fumbles around on the side of your helmet until it finds the button. the visor pops up, letting cool air hit your burning face. your palm is back on the gear shifter with your thumb and pointer holding the ‘talk’ button against it, a beep rings out— everyone will hear your next words.

“suguru!” you call.

“clutch?! what’s wrong?” his voice crackles back to you over the radio.

“nothing’s wrong,” you can’t help but belly laugh, your mind dizzy with adrenaline and happiness.

“what?!”

“watch me, sugu!” you smile. “watch this steeze!”

you know takuma heard you, copying his goofy slang from that blissful night at the skate park, and you can imagine his smooth laugh ringing out around the other listeners so clearly in your mind.

you throw the radio to the floor of the passenger seat and fly into the next hairpin, mimicking your previous actions exactly. you let each rumble and veer of the car lead your timing and intuition. inumaki is a whole car length behind you now, both cars smoking past your brother and out of the drift.

“mile 4, clutch in the lead,” suguru says. “you stress me out, little shithead.”

and for some reason unknown to you, the world suddenly grows quiet. 

your muscles relax, your mind empties. inumaki’s threatening headlights in your rearview mirror no longer lingers in your thoughts. the uncomfortable touch of the sweaty hair stuck to your forehead disappears. the echo of your uneven breaths under the thick helmet turn steady. 

you take a deep breath, tasting the burning rubber and wafts of exhaust as you inhale. the machine around you becomes weightless.

you feel it. 

you are simply just driving now, a body moving through time and space—

it feels so good.

✰✰✰✰✰

you’re not really sure what happened after that. but at the same time, you somehow remember every detail so vividly. since the moment everything clicked after that last hairpin, you’ve been in a drugless, dreaming daze.

you know that you won— 8:29:41— an incredible 11 seconds faster than your most recent pass through hakone. you were 2 full car lengths ahead of inumaki as you passed over the finish line.

you know that suguru was at your door as soon as you yanked the silvia in park, pulling you out and ripping off the helmet, smiling and laughing with utter pride. inumaki’s hands had waved excitedly in front of him before he hugged you with a smile that made his tattoo tightly stretch over his red cheeks.

you know that kento had shown you another rare grin with teeth, and satoru had once again thrown you over his shoulder. you had seen takuma’s huge smile between the faces of the excited crowd around you.

you failed to notice the brooding onlookers that stayed on the shoulder.

you were still catching your breath when satoru and takuma took off into the mountains, and you remember that takuma had won by just a few feet. it left satoru pissed and pouting, and about ¥30,000 poorer than he came. there was no fight this time.

suguru didn’t seem to mind when you told him you were going out again this weekend, he was going to the bar with the boys anyways. so when you got home, you pulled a black, off-the-shoulder mini dress over your buzzing body before fixing your hair and makeup. you knew you’d regret wearing thigh-high stockings and uncomfortable, black platform heels when you took off in your mustang, deciding to leave the silvia to rest in the garage.

the underground felt like it was empty with every bit of your attention focused on takuma. he had literally melted when he saw you, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off you all night. megumi, yuji, choso, and aoi were nowhere to be seen as you danced with takuma, shot after shot and song after song, still reeling from both your victories.

there was never a moment takuma let your body sway against his without a searing touch on your skin— the glaring red eyes from across the room needed to know you were with him and him only.

you know at one point, you were back in the shadows’ booth, utterly drunk and sat between takuma’s thighs. you remember his hand around your waist and a finger just under the hem of your thin black stockings. you remember the way his intoxicated breathe felt in your ear and the way it sent chills down your spine when he had mumbled, “we should go, it’s too loud in here.”

“go where?” you had asked.

“anywhere but here.”

✰✰✰✰✰

the daze is suddenly over as you find yourself underneath takuma ino in the backseat of his car.

you can barely see a thing around you in the dark, empty corner of the parking garage, but you can feel everything as his calloused hands roam your body and thighs, which hook around his waist, as he grasps at the soft fabric of your dress.

you hold his face in your hands, teeth and noses clicking and bumping as you attack each other’s lips. your fingers travel to his soft, brown hair and lightly tug when he meets his tongue with yours. the taste of vodka, tobacco, and your own sweet lip gloss mix between your mouths.

takuma’s hips come down to meet yours, the cool metal of his belt and the rough, black material of his jeans grind against your core so deliciously that you can’t help but let out a small gasp. he grips your thigh as the other hand gently cradles your nape upwards, exposing your neck and jaw for him to plant hot, wet kisses on as your eyes close with a flutter. it’s really not fair how the hard length beneath his jeans continues to roll into you, the pressure of it shooting desperate need through your bones.

"you're so fucking beautiful," takuma pants against your skin. "you know that, right?"

the rising temperature of the car and your melding bodies leaves you both breathless as takuma sits up to tear off his shirt. every coherent thought he has left in his brain vanishes when he finally registers the scene below him— your messy hair and lidded eyes staring at his toned figure, your swollen lips and heaving chest. 

"oh," takuma damn near chokes on his own spit when he sees that your dress has bunched up just above your hips from his groping, legs spread around him to reveal cherry red panties against the straining tent below his belt. he’s completely losing it—

“my shoes…” you finally manage to say.

“what?” he thickly swallows. “o-oh, yeah. your shoes.” he lifts your legs and does his best, tipsy job to fumble open the buckles of your heels. your dress lifts higher, and takuma prays you don’t notice the pink tinge on his cheeks as your shoes fall to the floor of the car. 

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he breathes, returning his lips to yours. he just can’t stop himself from grinding into you repeatedly as he grows more desperate to ease the ache in his jeans. “is this okay?” one hand finds your breast, the other slides beneath the hem of your dress to the bare skin of your waist.

as soon as you nod he’s back to your mouth while your fingertips roam his shoulders and back. a thumb rolls over your covered nipple right as he rolls into your core, the angle and pressure just right enough to make you gasp again.

“m-more, please?” you ask so sweetly, takuma knows he could never deny you.

“more?” he begins to pull the top of your dress down. “like this?”

“yeah… please?”

takuma squeezes your hardened nipple and the fat of your hip at the same time, earning another sharp gasp from you. he smiles at that, eager as hell to learn every sign and signal of your body. he plants another wet kiss on your collarbone before hovering his lips over your other breast, letting the heat of his breath tease it for just a moment.

“can i—”

“—yes.” you pant, and his tongue is wrapped around your bud immediately. the insistence of his hips against yours combined with pulling tugs and sucking lips on your tits has your fingers tightening in his hair and back arching up, and the first candied moan finally escapes from your throat.

god help him— takuma swears he could cum in his pants just from the sound of it alone. he can’t believe he’s managed to get you here, splayed out so erotically underneath him in the backseat of his car, lucky enough to be the one to make you produce such a beautiful noise. he doesn’t dare stop his movements, savoring the privilege of having his own tongue swirling over your nipples just to hear you sing again.

it only takes a few minutes until takuma is drunk off your gasps and moans, drunker than he was before, and you’re starting to writhe under him. he plays with the band of your panties as your thighs squeeze around his waist.

“kuma, if you keep going,” you pant. “i’ll… oh, i’m gonna…”

“you want me to stop?”

“no, more.”

“more where?” a hand comes to rest on top of your pelvis, a finger dangerously close to where you need it most as he asks for permission. you nod frantically. takuma rests a thumb over your panties at the peak of your aching clit, “here?”

“y-yes, please,” you moan. your back arches and all muscles tense as he presses gentle circles into your bud. he groans around the nipple under his tongue when he finally feels for himself just how wet he’s made your lingerie. 

takuma still can’t control his desperate grinds as he’s hunched over you, the only thing separating his twitching length and your burning cunt being your clothing and his thumb. his teeth softly clamp around the peak of your breast and you call out his name, sending him spiraling.

“oh— kuma!”

“cum for me,” he pleads, dark and needy brown eyes boring straight into yours. “please, pretty? i want to see you cum for me.”

you clench around nothing at his words, making takuma groan as you pull harshly on his hair and clamp your eyes shut. "please please please, just for me," he prattles helplessly.

you suck in a sharp breathe and let your head fall back into the soft seat. it’s silent for a moment as your entire body tightens into the peak of your orgasm. it has to be the most beautiful thing takuma’s ever seen. you start to fall over the edge, crying out in pure pleasure as your legs shake at the lightning that courses through you.

“fuuuck, baby,” takuma moans at the sight of you, not daring to stop his ministrations for a single moment to extend your orgasm as long as he can. he’s utterly addicted, he wants to see it over and over and over again. you wish you could say something, anything, but the burning fire rooting from your clit takes over all your senses. “so pretty, so so so fucking pretty.”

your chest heaves beneath his as you choke and gasp. “breathe, baby,” takuma softly reminds you, moving his lips to your tingling neck. you whimper and pant as you come down, takuma’s slamming his mouth back onto yours. “so beautiful,” he mindlessly mumbles against your lips. “thank you, baby. so good, so pretty.”

a playful giggle is the first thing to leave your mouth when your body settles. “what are you laughing at?” takuma smiles, he can’t help but chuckle along with you. you both feel light and airy, bright red blushes smear across your cheeks.

“i just…” you blink repeatedly with a sheepish smile, clearing through the lustful haze in your eyes to try and look at the boy above you. “i’m not very experienced, and that was, um, kind of… my best?”

“your best?” takuma looks at you with wide eyes. “i can do better.”

“…show me?”

takuma’s face flickers with an unrecognizable look. you playfully shriek when he pulls you up by the waist to straddle over his lap. his muscular thighs are spread apart across the backseat and your sensitive core meets his jeans once again.

“much better,” he grins, kneading the fat of your thighs. he looks down at your stockings with parted lips and darting eyes— his touch feels heavenly. “these are… dangerous.”

“you can take them off, if you want,” you mumble shyly, hooking your arms around his neck and pulling yourself closer into his bare chest. 

“no, no, no. they stay on.” he prefers to be buried with the image of you over him like this, cheeks flushed and enticing eyes.

“okay, kuma,” you laugh. “whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?” his middle finger finds the path back to your soaking clit, gently pressing for permission. “what about what you want?”

“i want…” your eyes dart down his sculpted chest and abs, and over the soft chestnut happy trail that disappears beneath his jeans. you thought you had reined your head back in place, but the thought of that path of hair leading straight to takuma’s throbbing length suddenly has you fumbling mindlessly with his belt buckle. “fingers,” you blurt, remembering he had asked you a question. “i want your fingers.”

takuma doesn’t waste any time attaching his lips to yours, circling your soaking heat once again. you tear open takuma’s button and zipper, revealing just a peek of the angry red tip that hides beneath the waistband of his boxers. he lets out a beautiful, deep groan that reverberates down your throat when you palm him over the fabric.

“i need to,” he tugs at the edge of your underwear, pleading for entrance. "i need it, please?" the second you nod he’s pulling them to the side, both of you whining at the touch of his long fingers spreading the slick up your drooling cunt. you shudder against his chest, the pleasure being tenfold what it was over your lingerie. the sensitivity of your clit leaving you clenching and tense.

“f-fuck,” takuma whines when you reach past his boxers and squeeze your soft fist around his raging cockhead. you’re grinding desperately against the palm of his hand, he pushes a finger past that first ring of resistance and into your gummy walls. you moan and pant as he pumps steadily, relishing how your pussy squeezes and clenches around him.

“kuma!” you squeal as he easily pushes a second finger in your squelching cunt, curling into a spot that has your vision blurring. his head drops to plant wet, open-mouth kisses to your throat. you cradle his head against your chest as you swipe over the slit of his head, making him jerk with a whimper as his gushing precum coats your digits.

you’d be embarrassed that your second peak was already approaching after just minutes of his obsessive attack on your pussy if it didn’t feel so fucking good. the inhibition of your brother finding out about your whereabouts has completely vanished. any hesitation you had of takuma’s rumored wrongdoings is completely forgotten as you fist his long, pretty cock… 

“shit,” he pants, atrociously enamored by a thin streak of your slick that appears from under your dress and trickles down your thigh until it soaks into the material of your stockings. “you’re so so good to me, too good for me, baby.”

the grip around his dick has him going ballistic, he knows he could cum immediately as long as it’s your voice asking him to. if angels are real, he thinks they’d sound like your sloshing cunt around his fingers and your saccharine moans in his ear.

“i’m gonna—” you gasp, snapping takuma out of his trance. “k-kumaaa…”

“you gonna cum again for me, pretty?” his cock twitches in your palm at the thought of it, this time around his nimble fingers. you subconsciously start pumping him faster, your numbed body so desperate for more of him.

“yes, i’m sorry!” you whimper, almost ashamed. takuma clenches his jaw with a sharp groan when you swipe against a particularly sensitive area near his leaking head, his own peak rapidly nearing. the perfume on your bare chest makes him even dizzier, he’s nipping at your breasts without thought. 

“you’re gonna make c-cum, too.” good god, he’s obsessed with you. takuma can’t be bothered to care about how his pathetic whining and stuttering sounds to you. “cum for me. p-please, pretty?”

you’re a fucking mess straddled over takuma, a fistful of his shaggy hair in one hand as you’re veins start to run hot. you tremble as you start to peak once more, messily rolling your hips harder into the palm that he’s been grinding so delectably into your clit. takuma isn’t any better, jutting and jerking his cock farther into your hand. words pour out of his throat, babbling and groaning your name.

“oh, fuck— fuck, you’re so good to me, baby. cum with me, please? please… sh-shit, i—” takuma throws his head back and digs his nails into the fat of your hip as his pretty length spews hot ribbons of white over his clenching stomach. the sounds of his hoarse moans repeating your name, thanking you, and his fingers curled tight against your squelching walls is enough to send you over the edge right after.

you cum with a sharp cry, eyes rolling back into your head as takuma’s whining, drunk voice praises you through your orgasm. “breathe, pretty girl,” he reminds as you’re once again gasping for air. “good girl, that’s it. god, you look so pretty cumming on my fingers like this…”

takuma gifts you with gentle, slow circles over your nub to come down with, holding you close against him as he presses loving kisses over your jaw and neck. completely pussydrunk, he can’t get himself to shut up as he continues to stream out a steady flow of compliments and praises for you. 

it’s when the car is quiet, except for both your panting, when you realize your phone is vibrating incessantly. abandoned at some point on the floor of takuma’s car along with your shoes, suguru’s name lights up the screen.

“shit…” you breathe.

sugu: lmk when you’re otw home please sugu: everything ok? sugu: 1 missed call sugu: text me back soon ok? wanna make sure you’re safe

toru: text ur brother back dumbass. he’s tweaking out in the bar rn lmao

sugu: clutch sugu: 1 missed call

ken: your brother is worried about you, it’s very late. you should give him a call when you see this.

sugu: i’m getting worried, did something happen?? sugu: call me back asap please sugu: 1 missed call

your heart drops. suguru texting or calling you a few times to make sure you’re okay is nothing new, but satoru and kento reaching out worries you.

“kuma, i’m sorry. i need to get home,” you apologize.

“can you stay just a few more minutes, please?” those big brown eyes of his are so hard to say no to.

“i’m so sorry, suguru’s freaking out. i… don’t want him coming to find me,” takuma must see the stress in your expression, because his pleading eyes disappear as his thumbs rub comforting circles around your waist.

“don’t feel bad, i get it,” he smiles. “we’ll get you home safe and sound for him.”

✰✰✰✰✰

you keep the shop lights off as you park your mustang. you’ve already probably woken up the entire neighborhood with your car, you don’t need to blind them as well. the cold linoleum floor of the garage feels nice on your socked feet as you walk with your heels in your hand to the door that leads to the kitchen, barely visible. 

suguru will be waiting for you in your room, but you know he’ll simply help you into bed and tell you to get some sleep instead of reprimanding you, despite his concerning texts. that’s what he always does.

your cheeks still feel hot and your knees weak from your time in takuma’s backseat, but your mind is disoriented and giddy. his handsome smile and sweet moans are still fresh in your mind, you can still feel his warm touch over the skin of your waist and hips. you know you’re a mess right now; eye bags, tousled hair, smeared makeup, and your socks falling halfway down your legs… but you can’t seem to care.

there’s a small crunch, and the sole of your foot screams out in pain. you stumble backwards in the dark as you bite your lip against the searing feeling until you can turn on the flashlight of your phone. the bottom of your foot drips bright red blood onto the clean, ashy grey tiles.

you’re nothing except confused at the smalls shards of glass lodged in your foot. the light of your phone pans to the floor before you, covered in more glittering glass, and up to the driver’s door of the car in front of you.

it’s your silvia. you stare in disbelief as you realize the driver’s side window is completely gone, blue and green shining fragments covering the seat you raced in just hours ago. the passenger window is shattered but intact, with a singular bullet hole through the center. you scramble to the kitchen door, heart beating out of your chest and blood smearing your path. as soon as you grab hold of the knob, it flies open on its own.

“where the hell have you been? it’s 4 in the fucking morning!”

it’s suguru, shirtless and barefoot from being in bed. he looks disheveled with fretful and bloodshot eyes, his ebony hair frizzy and flat. he had obviously just been woken up from the sound of the garage door creaking open through the house.

“what’s going on, clutch?” he demands, grabbing your arm to pull you inside. but you’re unable to form words, tears streaming down your cheeks as you resist him. you fumble desperately at the wall for the shop lights, the fluorescent blinding you both when they snap on. the horrifying sight of your car makes you gasp, clutching onto suguru as you take in the scene.

“oh my fucking god,” suguru has never woken up faster. “get in the house. now.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

ongoing tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena @magiamad0ka @mawhoreagaa

© vorfreudevortex // all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost my work.

[elysiaheaven]

Killer Chat main cast in the bedroom? 🫣

This was so fun to write thank you for the request!

RONIN - The DEVIL'S BUTCHER

Ronin may act nonchalant, but the moment you’re in bed, he drapes himself over you like a heavy blanket. Whether it’s his arm slung lazily across your waist or his whole body practically pinning you down, he needs the contact. If you try to move? Forget it—he’ll grumble, “Where d’you think you’re going?” and pull you back tighter.

No matter the situation, Ronin is a sucker for forehead kisses. If you're curled up against him, he’ll drop lazy kisses on the top of your head without even thinking about it. He finds it hilarious how quickly they make you blush and always teases you, whispering, ���Blushy already, huh? How cute.”

Ronin sleeps like a tangled mess. His legs are always draped over yours, and sometimes you wake up to find his arm tucked under your neck or his head buried in your shoulder. Even if it gets too warm, he’ll stubbornly cling to you like a koala, mumbling, "You’re not escaping me."

Running his fingers through your hair is one of his favorite things—whether you're awake or asleep. He claims it’s "just to keep his hands busy," but really, it's soothing for him. Sometimes, he’ll absentmindedly braid tiny sections or twirl strands around his finger while lost in thought.

As much as Ronin plays up his confident, devil-may-care persona, he’s occasionally struck by waves of doubt, especially when dysphoria hits. He might hold you a little tighter on those nights, wordlessly seeking reassurance.

If you run your hands down his chest and kiss him gently where his scars are, it’s the kind of tenderness that undoes him. He’ll try to cover it with a half-sarcastic, “Don’t get all sappy on me,” but the slight tremor in his voice betrays him.

Sometimes, he’ll ask if you’re sure you’re okay with the way he looks, in a voice that’s so quiet it breaks your heart. Your answer always matters to him—more than he’d admit.

Ronin’s not much of a spooner in the traditional sense—he likes to wrap himself around you, snake-like, or tangle his legs with yours in the messiest, most chaotic way possible. He has a habit of lazily tossing an arm or leg over you, murmuring, “You’re not leaving, right?” as he buries his face in your neck. If you try to move, he’ll just pull you closer with an annoying little grin.

Ronin’s intimacy is all about control, not in an aggressive way, but in how he carefully chooses when and how he gives himself to you. Knowing that you love him as he is—without expectations—eases his fears, but it’s still a process.

On nights where he lets you touch the parts of him he’s most insecure about, it feels like he’s handing you a piece of his soul. He needs the reassurance that you see him fully and still love every bit.

He likes playing mind games even in the bedroom, leaning into teasing and tension just to make things more interesting. He’ll smirk against your lips, murmuring, “Think you can handle me?” knowing full well you’ve already won.

Ronin isn’t big on over-the-top dominance, but there’s always an edge to the way he kisses you—like he’s trying to claim you, even in the softest moments. It’s not about control; it’s about wanting you to feel how much you matter to him, in every breathless second.

After everything—after the teasing, kisses, and playful jabs—he’ll lie there in the quiet, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounde

He’ll never say it outright, but you can hear the unspoken words in the way he presses his lips to your hair: I love you. I love you. I love you.

Ronin wakes up before you sometimes, and instead of getting up like a normal person, he decides to mess with you. He’ll tickle your nose with his hair or blow gently on your face, waiting for you to groggily swat at him. When you finally wake up annoyed, he’ll grin, kiss your forehead, and say, “Rise and shine, sweetheart. Couldn’t sleep without annoying you first.”

While Ronin enjoys having control, he gets a thrill out of moments when you try to take charge. He’ll let you straddle him or pin his hands—just to see how far you’ll take it before he flips you over, smirking, “Cute. Now it’s my turn.”

He’ll pull things like lightly slapping your thigh or teasing you when you try to resist, smirking the whole time. If you ask him to stop being such a tease, he’ll drag it out even more, murmuring, “What’s the rush? I want to enjoy every second of this.”

In his twisted way, everything he does is an expression of love. Ronin is about pushing boundaries, breaking down walls, and molding you into someone who matches his chaotic, unhinged energy. “You’re mine,” he’ll whisper, not just as a promise but a warning—he won’t ever let you go, not truly.

After everything, he’ll drape an arm over you, pull you close, and nuzzle his face into your neck. But don’t expect sweet pillow talk—he’ll mutter something like, “Can’t believe you’re stuck with me,” or “How’d I get so lucky to ruin you, huh?” He shows affection in the strangest, most chaotic ways—sometimes by stealing kisses, sometimes by pinching your nose just to annoy you.

Ronin isn’t clingy, but he’s possessive in subtle ways. He loves when you wear his clothes after, especially when they’re oversized on you. Seeing you wrapped in something of his, especially after being tangled in bed, scratches an itch deep inside him. “That’s mine now,” he’ll joke, tugging at the collar.

He enjoys pushing your limits—whether it’s with teasing or something more intense. But the moment you hit your threshold, he’ll stop instantly. He doesn’t just listen to your boundaries; he respects them, taking pride in knowing exactly how far to push without breaking you.

V- For Vigilante- Batman

V isn’t someone who’s big on words or grand romantic gestures, especially in the bedroom. He shows care in the subtleties—like making sure you’re comfortable, leaving space for you to adjust, and observing how you react to him.

He’s slow to pick up on flirting, so if you make playful remarks or compliments, you might be met with a blank stare or a simple, “What are you trying to say?” But when he does catch on, he’ll become flustered, a rare softness peeking through his cool demeanor.

Touch isn’t second nature to V—he treats it like an unspoken contract, something intimate and earned. It takes time for him to initiate contact, but once he’s comfortable, you’ll notice small, deliberate gestures.

He has a habit of resting his hand on your back, just below your shoulder blades, or brushing his fingers along your arm. When you reach for him first, there’s always a flicker of hesitation before he lets himself lean into it.

In the bedroom, V’s energy is steady and composed—he isn’t someone who rushes into things. Every touch feels purposeful, as if he’s assessing your reaction and adjusting his actions accordingly. He might not say much, but his intensity speaks louder than words.

Though he’s naturally aloof, he likes when you take charge at times, especially if you lean into your nurturing but domineering side. When you pin him down playfully or grab his chin to make him look at you, a subtle smirk plays on his lips, amused by your boldness.

If you have pets, V will subtly encourage them to join you two on the bed—whether it's a cat curling up at your feet or a dog lying across the covers. He finds their presence grounding, though he’ll never admit it aloud.

You catch him more than once stroking an animal absentmindedly during conversations, and there’s a tenderness to the way he interacts with them—soft and careful, like they’re the only beings who understand him.

V may seem detached, but he’s hyper-aware of your moods. If you’re having a bad day, he won’t say much; instead, he’ll just pull you into bed and let you rest against him in silence, fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

If someone has hurt you or crossed your boundaries, V shifts into a dangerous kind of calm. “Do you want me to handle it?” he’ll ask in a neutral tone, fully prepared to make that person regret ever breathing near you.

On nights when sleep feels distant, V doesn’t mind spending time with you tending to plants in your room—watering them, pruning leaves, or simply sitting in comfortable silence while the scent of soil fills the air.

He loves the way you care for living things. When he watches you tend to plants with gentle hands but turns around and sees that same kindness transform into brutal protectiveness for those you love, it intrigues him deeply.

V’s way of being intimate is subtle but commanding—he won’t rush things, preferring to explore you at his own pace. He takes time to memorize every part of you, his cool fingers trailing across your skin like a silent promise.

When things get heated, he’s not one to vocalize much. Instead, you’ll catch the way his breathing hitches or how his fingers tighten on your hips ever so slightly. If you tease him for being quiet, you might get a deadpan, “Is this supposed to be a conversation?”—but the rare flash of amusement in his eyes gives him away.

V might not be outwardly affectionate, but when he does express it, it’s in ways that feel uniquely him—like pulling you into his side while reading a book together or casually draping an arm across your waist as you sleep.

If you ever catch him in a rare moment of vulnerability—like if he’s half-asleep and mumbles something soft about how much you mean to him—it’ll be a fleeting moment, and he’ll act like it never happened. But you’ll know.

He admires how you can be nurturing to animals and plants but unforgiving toward people who cross the line. When he sees you switch from soft to sharp in a heartbeat, it stirs something in him—a quiet respect and attraction.

He knows you could easily handle yourself, but there’s still a part of him that feels responsible for your safety. If things ever go wrong, V’s loyalty is absolute, and anyone who threatens you becomes a problem he’s more than willing to solve.

In the stillness of the night, when it’s just the two of you curled up together, V’s voice becomes a little softer. He might murmur simple things—how the stars looked that night, or a quiet compliment like, “You smell nice.”

And when he’s finally on the edge of sleep, with his head resting against yours and his hand resting lazily on your hip, he’ll let slip the rarest kind of confession: “You’re the only one I trust.”

Misaki- Chaos gremlin

The bedroom isn’t just for sleeping—it’s for chaos. Misaki loves randomly initiating pillow fights or wrestling you onto the mattress with no warning. “Bet you can’t take me down!” they’ll challenge, even when they’re the one getting pinned two seconds later.If you play along and banter with them during these moments, they’ll grin like you’ve just made their day. Bonus points if you act dramatic when they win—“Noooo, I’ve been defeated!”—because it feeds their need for praise.

Misaki lives for your compliments, especially in casual moments. “Look at you, my little badass,” you say offhandedly, and they melt. You’ll catch them trying to hide a smile, only to respond with something like, “Heh, I know I’m amazing—but say it again.”They also adore teasing praise—“Wow, you really managed not to break anything today, proud of you”—but if you really hype them up when they’re struggling emotionally, it grounds them more than they’ll ever admit.

Misaki hates being alone and will cling to you like Velcro the moment you’re available. They’ll drag you into bed and sprawl out across you, often grumbling things like, “You’re not going anywhere, right"

They’re the type to demand cuddles but wiggle around so much it turns into a playful wrestling match. Eventually, they’ll flop dramatically on top of you, sigh, and say, “I’m staying right here. Deal with it.”

Misaki loves calling you during missions or jobs, not just because they’re bored but because it makes them feel connected. “You’re my lifeline,” they’ll joke, even though they’re dead serious about how much those calls mean to them.

Misaki is the master of cracking jokes during vulnerable moments. They’ll deflect emotional conversations with humor, brushing off their feelings like, “Eh, emotions are overrated, right?” But deep down, they’re craving someone who can see past that.

If you gently call them out—

“You’re deflecting, babe”—they’ll groan dramatically and act like you’ve caught them red-handed, but the fact that you noticed? It means the world to them.

If you’re a good cook, Misaki adores you—praising you like a culinary god and demanding home-cooked meals at every opportunity. But fair warning: they love joining you in the kitchen, often causing delightful chaos.

Picture them trying to flip pancakes a little too high or sneaking bites from every pot while yelling, “Quality control!” They might make a mess, but they’ll be having the time of their life doing it with you.

One minute you’re cuddling in bed, and the next, Misaki’s throwing blankets and pillows everywhere to build a fort. “C’mon, no fort is complete without snacks—grab some!” they’ll say as they bury themself in the pillows like a gremlin.

The two of you end up snuggled inside, eating snacks and watching movies—until they inevitably fall asleep on you, snoring softly with their head on your chest.

Intimacy with Misaki is playful but deeply affectionate. They’ll joke mid-kiss—“Wow, are you trying to knock me out with that kiss?”—but the way they look at you, like you’re their whole world, is no joke.

Even when things get spicy, they mix teasing with genuine tenderness, making you feel cherished in their own chaotic way. And afterward? They’re all about aftercare

If anyone messes with you, Misaki’s inner chaos gremlins activate. They’ll laugh it off in the moment, but rest assured—they’ll come back with just enough payback to leave the offender wondering what hit them. “Nobody messes with my partner,” they’ll say, grinning.

And if you joke about them being your personal protector, they’ll puff their chest dramatically and declare, “You better believe it. I’ll traumatize them right back.”

At the end of the day, Misaki is a ride-or-die partner. They’ll love you to the ends of the earth, sticking by your side through every mess and adventure. Whether you’re making pancakes at midnight or just lying in bed watching TV,

they’re happiest when they’re with you.And every night, just as you’re drifting off to sleep, they’ll murmur something sweet, like, “I’m really glad you’re here, y’know?” It’s their way of saying, in their chaotic but sincere way, that they wouldn’t trade this—or you—for anything.

Angel- Heartsick Angel

Angel’s optimism often comes with a tinge of self-doubt, and you’ve learned to recognize when her mind starts to spiral. She might smile through it, masking the anxiety, saying, "Everything’s fine!"—but the way she grips your hand a little too tight tells you otherwise.

You ground her gently, pulling her into your arms and resting your chin on her head. “It’s okay to not be fine, y’know,” you murmur, brushing your thumb along her back. Her shoulders relax slightly as she sighs against you, grateful that she doesn’t have to pretend.

When Angel’s having a manic episode or feeling overwhelmed, she needs time to herself. You’ve learned to respect those boundaries without taking it personally. Instead of pushing, you leave her a glass of water and a small snack nearby—a quiet reminder that you’re always there, even if she needs space.

On tough days, she’ll eventually crawl into bed with you after hours of isolation, curling up against your side. You say nothing, just pull the blanket over both of you, and let her rest with her head on your chest. "Thanks for waiting," she whispers into the darkness.

Being a model and YouTuber, Angel’s life can be exhausting—early photoshoots, constant editing, and keeping up with trends. But on her rare days off, she craves nothing more than lazy mornings in bed with you.

She’ll snuggle close under the covers, still half-asleep, and mumble, “Stay five more minutes,” even though she’s been saying that for the past hour. You stroke her hair, brushing stray strands away from her face, and she hums happily. “Okay…maybe ten more.”

Angel is big on little kisses—forehead pecks, kisses on the nose, or brushing her lips against your shoulder just because she feels like it. She thrives on those small moments of affection, each one grounding her a little more.

If you surprise her with a kiss mid-conversation, her face lights up with the sweetest smile. “Hey! No fair!” she laughs, though she’s already leaning in for another one.

Angel hides her sadness behind smiles, but in the quiet of night, when her mind finally slows, she feels safe enough to let the tears come. She won’t say much—just clings to you like a lifeline, shaking slightly as she lets out quiet sobs.

You hold her close, fingers running soothing patterns along her back, whispering soft reassurances. “You’re not alone, Angel. I’ve got you.” And for the first time in a while, she believes it.

When she spirals, her mind becomes a tangle of doubts and insecurities. She might lash out—not in anger but in frustration at herself. “Why do you even stay?” she asks in a voice that’s too quiet, too broken.

Your answer is simple and steady: “Because I love you. And I’m not going anywhere.” That reminder, spoken without hesitation, pulls her back from the edge every time.

Angel’s approach to intimacy is both playful and passionate. She likes to tease—trailing soft kisses along your skin, then giggling at your reactions. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little teasing?” she’ll say with a mischievous grin.

But underneath the playfulness is a need for closeness. When things get more intense, her giggles turn to breathless whispers, and she clings to you as if letting go would shatter her. In those moments, it’s not just about the physical connection—it’s about the emotional safety she finds in your arms.

Angel isn’t afraid to reach out when she needs you—whether she’s having a rough night or just wants to hear your voice. “I know it’s late, but… can we talk for a bit?” she’ll ask softly, voice tinged with vulnerability.

You stay on the line as long as she needs, reassuring her with every word. “I’m always here, Angel. No matter what.” And that promise means the world to her.

Even mundane moments with you feel intimate to her—like brushing your teeth together in the morning, or lying in bed scrolling through your phones, feet tangled under the blankets.

Sometimes, she’ll sit in your lap while editing her videos, needing the comfort of your presence even as she works. “You’re my good luck charm,” she says, kissing your cheek before diving back into her tasks.

Cooking with you is one of Angel’s favorite ways to unwind. She loves standing side-by-side in the kitchen, playfully stealing bites of food from your hands and swaying to the music playing in the background.

“If you burn the toast, I’ll still love you,” she jokes, though you both know she’s the one who always forgets the timer. When the meal is finally done, she’ll cuddle into you on the couch, whispering, “This is perfect.” And in that moment, it really is.

Angel sometimes struggles with sleep, her mind racing with a hundred thoughts at once. On those restless nights, she’ll crawl into your lap, nestling close, and murmur, “Can’t sleep… can you talk to me?”

You wrap your arms around her, holding her until the rhythm of your heartbeat starts to calm her down. Sometimes, you talk about anything—nonsense stories, funny memories, or what you’ll have for breakfast. Other times, you just hum softly, running your fingers through her hair.

“Stay like this forever,” she whispers drowsily, and though she falls asleep soon after, you keep holding her, content in the quiet intimacy.

After long filming days or stressful shoots, Angel tends to collapse into bed, drained and emotionally spent. She craves your touch most during these moments, melting into your embrace like she belongs there.

“Mmm… you’re my reward for surviving today,” she mumbles, cheek pressed to your chest. Her exhaustion shows in the way she clings to you, a silent request for comfort.

You stroke her back, pressing soft kisses into her hair, and promise, “I’m always here, Angel. No matter how tough it gets.” Her contented sigh tells you that’s exactly what she needed to hear.

Angel isn’t the jealous type—she trusts you completely—but that doesn’t mean the little pangs don’t sneak in sometimes, especially when work takes you away from her for too long.

“You know… you’ve been spending a lot of time with other people lately,” she’ll say with a teasing smile, though the underlying insecurity is evident.

You pull her close, kissing her forehead. “They’re not you. They could never be you.” Her smile turns real, and she presses herself tighter against you, content with the reassurance.

Mornings with Angel can be quiet and raw, especially after a rough night. She wakes up groggy, with her guard lowered, snuggling closer to you with a sleepy whimper.

On mornings like this, she doesn’t say much—just holds you as if anchoring herself. “Stay with me a little longer,” she whispers, her breath warm against your neck. You’re happy to oblige, brushing lazy kisses against her hair as the world outside waits.

Intimacy with Angel is equal parts playful and passionate. She likes to tease and challenge you, enjoying the push and pull. “Oh, think you’ve got me figured out?” she taunts, lips brushing against yours.

But there’s always tenderness beneath her teasing—a desire to be close, to connect on a level that feels safe. In those quieter moments, she melts against you, breath hitching as your touches become slower, more deliberate. “You feel so good,” she whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

She loves when things slow down, when it’s not just about the physical but the emotional closeness. You can tell from the way her fingers linger on your skin, like she’s savoring every second.

Angel tries to mask her sadness with jokes, but in the sanctuary of the bedroom, she knows she doesn’t have to pretend. Some nights, she’ll vent about the pressures of her work, her insecurities, or how overwhelming life feels.

“Sometimes I just… don’t feel good enough,” she admits softly, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. It’s not easy for her to be this open, but with you, she feels safe enough to try.

You cup her face gently, brushing away the stray tears. “You’re more than enough, Angel. I see you, and I love you for exactly who you are.” The look she gives you—full of gratitude and love—makes every tough moment worth it.

Angel doesn’t always need grand gestures—what she values most is your time and presence. Even just lying in bed with you, scrolling on your phones or watching random videos, feels special to her.

“You being here means everything,” she’ll say quietly, her hand resting on your chest as if to anchor herself. The way she smiles when you squeeze her hand makes it clear she means it.

During her worst splits, Angel sometimes pushes you away—not because she wants to but because she’s afraid of being a burden.

“You don’t have to stay,” she mumbles, curling into herself. But you do stay. You sit with her in the silence, gently running your fingers along her arm until she relaxes.

“I told you I’m not going anywhere,” you remind her softly. And when she finally looks up, her eyes are full of gratitude—and maybe a little hope.

Pillow talk with Angel is full of random, sleepy conversations—she’ll talk about her dream YouTube ideas, the weirdest trends she’s seen, or the cutest animal videos she found.

But sometimes, in the dead of night, her words turn softer, more vulnerable. “Do you think I’ll be okay?” she asks quietly, her fingers laced with yours.

“You’re already okay, Angel,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way.”

For Angel, love is found in the quiet moments—the way you hold her when words aren’t enough, the way your fingers brush hers absentmindedly, the way you stay even when things get hard.

And as she drifts off to sleep in your arms, she knows she’s exactly where she belongs.