#snark-sass writes

[bonebrokebuddy]

It’s time for a, “things I sent to my twin’s inbox but she said I should post myself because I never post my own work and she’d like if I stopped spamming her inbox with ideas but I forgot about it and just kept it in my drafts notes for months and now finally I’m posting the fucking things.”

Or for short:

DP X DC PROMPT #7:

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Danny visits metropolis and people are deadset on believing that Danny is either Clark’s little brother or his nephew from Illinois… despite that Clark can literally not be related to him. Not that the people at the Daily Planet know that, but even the ones who do know are giving him a hard time.

“I’m adopted Jimmy!” Clark threw his hands in the air in frustration. “You are very aware of that.”

“But he looks just like you Clark, you even talk the same!” Jimmy peaked around the corner, catching a glimpse of Danny talking to Lois in the employees lounge.

“He has a upper midwestern accent. I’m from Kansas, Jim. Not all midwesterners know each other!”

“So?”

“Jimmy. You know damn well why we can not be related.” Clark subtly gestured to his cheap “I believe in aliens” mug. Jimmy was Clark’s best friend and most of the time he really appreciated the kid’s keen eye but Jimmy also seemed to be constantly dead-set on figuring how to give Clark a headache.

“But he looks like a mini you! Have you asked him if he has a spare spaceship lying around anywhere?” Jimmy snarked as he glanced over to Danny and Louis who were finally heading back from their break.

“Jimmy, I will put you on the moon and leave you there.”

“Alright sheesh. I get it, I’ll drop it.”

[spacedace]

Here, have a snippet of the Jason & Steph sibling bonding portion of the DP x DC AU I wrote 10k words for since last night in a haze of post sickness/burnout creative burst, featuring some Anger Management because of course it does lol

(I call it a snippet but it’s like...3k words lol)

Trigger Warnings because most of this snippet focuses on them running around Crime Alley and shit that goes down in it: references to drugs, overdoses, domestic abuse, child endangerment (if I miss anything let me know and I’ll add it). Nothing expliciet or details but they are things mentioned as happening because, well, Crime Alley.

-

Spoiler shifts subtly from foot to foot on the rooftop, hands open and ready at her side as she split her attention from watching him and checking the street below for signs of trouble. Her gaze was sharp on the girls working the corner, tracking for any hint that the man talking them up was making any of them uncomfortable even as she made sure Jason didn’t suddenly dart across the ten feet between them to strike out at her.

“George Conrad.” He said, satisfied that his sudden breaking of the silence didn’t make her jump though did catch her attention fully, fingers twitching warningly towards her belt. He nodded his head down to the street and the large man rummaging through the bag he brought with him. More of the girls had huddled up around him. “Not a john. Not even from Gotham.” He explained, shifting to walk over to the edge of the roof, giving her his back as he did. “His son Kyle ran away from home while George was oversees and ended up working the streets. George tracked him down once he was back in the states a few years ago but by the time he made it here Kyle had been killed.”

She moved to join him at the ledge, still leaving space between them but not enough for his guns to be as effective. Smart, vigilant, but still with a soft enough heart to stop and listen to one of the many tragedies that played out in Gotham’s darkest streets.

“What happened?” She asked, eyes softening on the big man in question as he started handing out ziploc bags. Jason knew very well what they held, and wondered if Spoiler could make out the finer details from the distance they were at. Sandwiches, granola bars, water bottles, condoms, clean needles, wet-wipes, little travel sewing kits, over the counter pain meds. Anything and everything George had ever been told would be appreciated or useful by the sex workers he spoke to.

“Overdose.” Jason answered, grateful that the distorter built into his helmet disguised the tightness of his voice. Memories of a cold body on the floor, stiff and waxy with distant glassy eyes. “Got mixed up with the wrong person. Boyfriend. Not a big player but,” He shrugged and knew that Spoiler would understand. It was how a lot of people got mixed up in sex work when they wouldn’t have normally. Boyfriend that promised the world, the painful fall into being pressured to sleep with said boyfriend’s friend, then another, then another. “One of Daisy’s boys was a neighbor and figured out what was going on, Daisy helped get him out but it was too late by then.”

Below one of the girls, younger than the rest - an adult, because he wouldn’t allow anything else in his territory, but still new to the scene - surged forward to wrap her arms around the old man. George gave her a gentle pat on the back, pushing her back gentle to dig out a card from his pocket. A list of numbers for her to call, shelters and organizations that could help, his own number in case she ever needed anything. “They chipped in for a funeral for him. Gave George somewhere to go and mourn. He’s been here ever since, trying to look after them all. He works as a bouncer at Daisy’s these days but he always does the rounds when he isn’t working.”

“People never get this part.” Spoiler mused, voice going soft and distant. “They always think the Alley is just…” She waved a gloved hand, “Trash and monsters. They can’t seem to get that there’s more. Just…people. Some really good ones even.”

He smiled behind his mask. There was a reason she was the one of the whole Bat Clan he’d decided to trust with this.

“Come on.” He said, waving her after him as he began an easy run that’d let them both move easily from rooftop to rooftop. Spoiler hesitated a moment, but at length followed, quick and quiet as she darted from shadow to shadow in his wake.

They spent the following couple of hours meandering around Crime Alley at an easy clip. Squat roofs and rusted fire escapes, narrow streets and dark corners. Pausing to jump in and handle anything that popped up or at particular spots of interest where he’d point out places and people. The chop shop run by the ragged gang of teens and children some of the gangs had been angling towards that needed looking after. The homeless encampment nestled between the grimy apartment building Daisy O’Neil had taken over to run her business out of and the tiny, almost forgotten pauper’s cemetery. The usual roosting spots for the drug dealers, the gambling dens, the little family owned cafe that had the best Tantuni at midnight and even better Turkish coffee at the crack of dawn.

It was as they perched on top of this last one, tucked back in the shadows away from view as Spoiler devoured the freshly made Lokma that Mrs. Solak insisted on making fresh for them when they stopped by that the question finally came.

“So what exactly is all this?” Spoiler asked, popping another of the sugary, honey covered Lokma in her mouth. He’d shoved the container Mrs. Solak had given to him over to her after eating only a few, knowing she was going to try to steal them anyway if he didn’t. “When you said you needed my help with something in Crime Alley, I was expecting…I don’t know, drug runners or something.” She popped another golden dough ball in her mouth, cheeks round as a chipmunk and voice muffled as she said, “Not a tour of the place.”

Jason let his head fall back on the brick of the rooftop entrance behind them, eyes scanning the glittering horizon of the Gotham skyline, trying to sort out his answer. He had talked about how he was going to do this with Jazz, practicing what he was going to say, what he wanted to reveal, what outcomes he could expect from the whole thing. When he left he’d felt confident about it all, riding high on the warmth of Jazz’s kiss and the fluttering thumps of little legs kicking against his hand. Now that he was here though he felt lost as to how to begin.

“I’m hanging up the mask.” He finally said. It wasn’t quite like the first time he’d said it out loud, in the privacy of his apartment, curled in bed with Jazz, only brave enough to whisper it in the dark. There wasn’t that rush of anxiety and relief that had hit him at finally saying what had twisted over and over in his head for weeks leading up to that moment. Now there was just the settled feeling, the certainty, the surety of being on the path he wanted to be on. “I wanted to ask if you’d look after my territory me when I do.”

Spoiler gaped at him. “Wait, seriously?”

He almost laughed, he settled on giving her a lazy smile. “Seriously.”

With her masked pulled down so she could eat her treats he could see her wide eyed, disbelief on her face easily. “Why?”

He gave a shrug, aiming for nonchalant. “This used to be your territory for awhile, right? You’re from here, you know the Alley and the people and how it all works.” He felt his smile go softer, “I trust you to be able to keep it safe.”

Spoiler’s - Steph’s - expression softened at that. “That’s…thank you.” She glanced out the same way he had before, face caught in something bittersweet. “I…I hated this place growing up. I still do, kinda. I think everyone that lives here does. But I still missed it, it’s still…still home.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, mind turning over his childhood. The constant fear and hardship. Living rough even when he did have a roof over his head. His father’s heavy hands. His mother’s slow wasting. Crime Alley was a complete shit hole, one where the worst of the worst tended to gather. But it wasn’t all monsters. There were good people too, just trying to scrape by. Old George wandering the streets handing out necessities to working girls and boys. The Solak family and their little shop, giving out the left overs to the street kids and homeless. The Nightingales, crammed into their two bedroom apartment, just trying to get by. “I knew you’d get it.”

They sat in silence for awhile. Steph chewing over his request and her Lokma, Jason lost in memories of the past and wistful dreams of the future. At length the blond next to him bumped his shoulder with hers, head tilting at a questioning angle. “I…I really appreciate what you said, about why me.” She said, awkward and touched in equal measure. “But…I was actually wondering why you were stepping back.”

He was ready for that question, he was. He’d initially just wanted to leave it at none of your fucking business but Jazz had - wise as ever - pointed out that he was asking her a favor, and a big one at that. He might not be comfortable with the rest of his family knowing everything - or anything - but Steph at least deserved an explanation as to why he was asking her to take over his territory.

“You tell anyone this, and I will kill you.” He started and then cringed internally because that had not at any point been something that had come up in his practice conversations with Jazz. Oh well, any more ooie-gooey feelings talk and Steph probably would have thought he was replaced by a pod person or something. “I’m seeing someone.”

The faintly alarmed look the blond vigilante beside him had melted away in an instant, replaced by a sly, mischievous grin. Hellion. One whiff of gossip and that’s all it took. “Ooooh, Big Bad Red Hood has a heart after all.” She crooned, ignoring her earlier reticence to get too close and leaning dramatically against his side. “Who is it huh? Anyone I know? Ooh, is it someone in the Outlaws?”

He was reminded of before he died, suddenly. Of teasing Dick over his latest crush over a beautiful red head that could kick his ass like a proper annoying little brother. In an echo of that moment so many years ago, he shoved Spoiler off in the same way Dick had done to him, rolling his eyes at her dramatic squawking as she nearly dropped her treat to disguise the small smile that wanted to curl at his lip. He swiped at the container lazily, a feint at stealing it back that resulted in a brief scuffle that ended with him popped a few of the Lokma in his mouth as she tore the container - that he had given to her in the first place - away, holding it close to her chest like a precious treasure.

“No, no one you know.” He answered at last they finally settled down. He paused for a beat, gaze turning back to the city as he added. “She’s a civilian.”

Spoiler looked considering at that, chewing at one of the last of the Lokma thoughtfully. “So what’s going on then? You do a face reveal and she asked you to quit the vigilante business?”

“No.” He said, taking a small, steadying breath. Better to just rip off the bandaid. “She’s pregnant.”

Spoiler went still beside him, laughing eyes shuttering and face falling into a neutral mask as she stared at him. After a long, long moment she gave a small, unreadable little, “Oh.”

Jason fought the urge to fidget. Oh. It could mean so many things. Oh shit. Oh no. Oh how nice. Oh boy I can’t wait to tell Bruce about this. That last one, admittedly, was unlikely. Spoiler was on good terms with most of the Bats and Birds but she and Bruce had long had something of a rocky relationship. No where near as bad as what he and the old man had, but still enough that she was probably the very last person to willingly go hunt Bruce down to share all the details of Jason’s private life unless she thought it particularly necessary.

The silence stretched on. And Jason knows what silence does to a human brain. Four seconds of quiet during a conversation after saying something registers as rejection, caused feelings of anxiety and apprehension, even caused the same signals in the brain as physical pain. Prolonged silence and steady attention at the same time caused an urge to fill the quiet, to speak and keep speaking until the other person says something. It was something Bruce taught him, guiding him along in his Robin days on how to perform interrogation and get the person they were questioning to spill their guts.

He was taught too how to outlast that silence in situations where he was being questioned. Both by Bruce and by the League - though the interrogations that he was meant to resist under their teachings had far more than long awkward silences to contend with. He knew how to clamp down on that instinctive drive to keep talking when faced with stillness like this.

And yet, somehow he could stop himself.

“I just…I think about being a kid and my dad going to work,” He said the word with appropriate amount of vitrol, “And then never coming back. Him dying in jail and it just being me and my mom trying to scrape by. Or…or with Bruce. Knowing that I was always going to place second to the Rogues and the city. I just…” His head dropped back on the brick behind him, eyes closed and throat tight. “I can’t do that to my kid. I’m going to be there. I’m going to make sure they’re safe and happy and that they don’t ever have to worry about if their old man is coming home or not.”

It was a nightmare he’d been having, since the morning he and Jazz crowded over a couple of pregnancy tests and saw the results. Dying out in the gutter and shambling home as a ghost to see the grief he left behind. Jazz crying, a child who’s features he could never make out standing in the doorway the way he would stand at the entrance of the cave when he was too injured to go out with Batman. Waiting in painful silence and burning tears to find out that his father was dead.

“I’m not…I’m not cutting out of the life completely.” He said, trying to focus past the squeezing in his chest, trying to force the conversation back into a conversation rather than him just pouring his bleeding heart out to a blank wall. “I’m going to talk to Babs, see if she’d be alright with me helping with some of what she does, or get something similar setup solely for the Alley. I’m going to keep tabs with my guys on what’s going on and work with them that way. And if there’s anything big, obviously you guys can call me in, I’m not just going to sit back if there’s a city wide threat or worse, I just - “

There were arms around him, suddenly. Warm and strong as they wrapped around him, a face pressed into his shoulder, his nose tickled by blond hair.

He sat there, frozen for a long moment before slowly, lifting his own arms to return the hug. Steph gave him an encouraging squeeze. “I get it.” She said, voice whisper soft and almost lost as she spoke into the leather of his jacket. “I think…I think if I’d been older, if I was more able to keep her…I think I would have done the same thing.” There was a faint sniff as she finally pulled away. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were bright with tears. “I’m happy for you.” She moved to gently head butt him, “And I’m honored to take over watching over this shithole of ours.”

Jason gave a watery laugh, not even caring that he was crying as he scrubbed away some of the tears that had burned down his cheek. “Thanks Blondie. Steph.”

She rocked back on her heels, arms crossed as her expression turned suddenly serious. “I do have one condition though.” At his look the seriousness melted away into an exuberant grin. “I want to meet this mystery woman of yours. Wait!” She brightened, “Two conditions! I want to be there when you finally tell B and the rest! I am not missing the look on their faces when you tell them!”

He rolled his eyes and shoved her, sending her tumbling into the container of Lokma and sending the remaining fried dough balls rolling across the grungy roof. Steph squawked, dropping to her knees before the thoroughly ruined sweets as dramatic as if it was her one true love laying dead before her. “They were so young, so innocent!” She wailed, throwing her head back as if to howl at the sky in mourning before snapping back to him, finger pointing at him accusatory. “You! This is your fault! I will have my vengeance!”

The rest of the night was spent darting from rooftop to rooftop in an echo of the game of tag he used to play with Dick and Babs years ago. Tackling each other and fighting without actually aiming to do real damage. Only pausing to jump down to the street or through a window here and there to knock some heads together.

By the time he was heading to the Dead Man’s Hand so he could walk Jazz home - or whisk her off to his safehouse, if he was lucky and she was able to duck her siblings for the day - he felt lighter. Steph would look after the Alley, the people he protected. He’d work with her over the next few months, get her integrated with his lieutenants and make sure she was familiar with the ins and outs of his little slice of Gotham, make sure she was as ready as she could be to take over for him.

[koala2all]

Sapphic Pirate WIP: Update

Things are going amazing!! I’m so into this story. It’s been a while since I’ve been this excited about writing. I’ve been stuck in the query hellscape for almost a year now, and have been loosing heart.

But these pirates… they are giving me life!

The Prologue… is finished through a second draft!

Chapter One… so fully of snarky dialogue! The MC and her old flame have reconnected, and while 100% supportive of each other, they are not above taking a well aimed shot here and there.

Coming up on the writing schedule for today, the two of them against some bandits! Let them cut loose and have fun 😉

[bunny-jpeg]

the sun's lullaby & the moon's symphony

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, photography, snark & sass, enemies to lovers (i guess), parental issues, secret relationship, talks of marriage & children, cowgirl position, admissions of love, long fic

this bunny runs on comments, reblog & tags! do you part to feed the bunny! (this was a thrill to write, i've been writing a lot of rivals au, so feel free to suggest your own! i also still have my bakery series going on, so feel free to order up. love ya'll)

this all started when you were teens. stubborn and stupid. the two prodigies of racing of two different stories. the moon, who was raised from birth to be the god of racing. and the sun, who emerged from nothing and up towards the sky to claim her rightful spot as a champion of the track.

the sun and the moon. you and max verstappen

so when you shared your first kiss with him at sixteen over a stolen a bottle of wine from your parent's fridge. you knew that you'd be forever link to the other driver.

it was over dinner in monaco, the lighting of the place was low. and max was seated across from you. occasionally his foot would rub up against your ankle.

you looked at him over the glass of wine in your hand, "you're not going to make me say it."

he smiled as he swallowed his bite of food, "why, prefer to tell me in private?" belgium was a great weekend for him, opposed to you. max sailed into second while you dragged behind in eighth.

but even at dinner, you'd never give the red bull driver the benefit, you'd rather have your bones wrung out of you like liquid in a rag than admit that max was good at racing. that would be the final pump of his ego that he'd go sailing away.

you put your glass down and rested your chin on your interlocked fingers, "maxie." you fluttered your eyelashes at him, "maybe if you came in first, i'd actually have something to congratulate you on." you reached across the small table and touched the inside of his wrist, you looked at the part of exposed flesh then to his face once more. you pouted at him, "second is the first place of losers."

he gave you a sarcastic smile before he took his wrist away, "and what about you, i thought you were supposed to be the rabbit on the track. out racing all of us. i guess daddy's money can only buy so much talent."

"you're a fucking dick, verstappen."

he shrugged, "and yet, you can't get enough of me. a glutton for punishment you are." his eyebrows knitted together as he frowned for a moment, "i think you're just trying to find daddy's approval, except that fucker won't give it to you. just like you won't give me what i want." he reached for you and cupped the side of your face. it was moments like these you remembered how big his hands were, "break the cycle, rabbit. be a good girl."

you pulled away from him, you heard the shutter of a camera and you both looked over. you grimaced, perfect. another photo to the collection of you and max in compromising positions. without context you looked like a pair on a date. you could already read out the statement you'd have to make if this all got a little too big.

you kicked max under the table, "good job, dickhead." your voice was painfully low.

he kicked you back, but not as hard, "you started it."

this night would end the same. the photo would go semi-viral. you'd have to lay low on social media for a few days. wash, rinse, repeat when you two eventually fuck up again. and like every other dinner together, it ended up with you two in his bed. those broad hands all over your back as you rode him. you held his face and looked down at him as you bounced your hips.

photographic evidence of you two together were vast, spanning close to ten years at that point. you both met in your carting days, with promises to make it to formula one. the photos only got more intense once you both entered the league.

they ranged from the two of you at a party together, or sneaking out a club holding hands. there was one of you on his boat, handing him a drink and what looked like him kissing you on the cheek. there were tons of his arm around you and your face buried in his broad chest. over the years the "evidence" had been piling up to suggest that you two were a couple.

if that was true, then why did you want to strangle max verstappen?

you stalked towards his driver's room after the dutch grand prix and opened the door without knocking. you felt fury in your bones as he looked at you. you put your hands on his throat and got close up into his face.

"you fucking asshole, you really are the devil aren't you, max?" you snapped. you weren't choking him, but rather holding him as a sign of dominance.

he grabbed your wrists and said, "and you're going to kill me now? i didn't think choking was your style." then pulled your hands away from his throat, "people might get the wrong idea if you start leaving marks."

"you ran me off the track. you knew what you were doing when you cut me off like that. you think you're so slick there, verstappen. is it because you're old man was there? wanted to show off to the pathetic excuse of a driver! fuck you, max. i didn't need the dnf because you needed to be a show off to daddy dearest, you piece of shit!" you knew you were just ranting, you sounded like a rambling mess but you wanted to win this.

through your rambling, he leaned in and kissed you on the lips, he didn't move when you tried to hit him in the chest. when he pulled away he held you by the back of the head, "it's all part of the game. you told me you'd rather be flayed than have me go easy on you. i'm treating you like every other driver. don't get mad."

you took a heavy breath before you pulled him in and kissed him on the mouth once more. he smirked against the kiss and wrapped his arms around you tightly. he held you close to him as you passionately made out with him.

when you pulled away, he said, "feel better now?"

you gripped onto the front of his shirt and deeply exhaled, "i could kill you and get away with it." then looked at him. his blue eyes always seemed to stare right into your soul. because maybe you two were bound by your souls, meant to exist in each other's orbit until the day you die.

he loosely kept his arms around you waist and pressed his forehead up against you, "i know. and i'd happily die by your hand." when he was tender like this, you wanted to bite his head off. but instead you simply let him hold you.

"you're an ass, verstappen." you muttered as you clung to the front of his uniform, "i hate that you know me so well and can get under my skin so easily."

he chuckled and held you closer, "i'm pretty sure you can map out every scar on my body and where i got it."

"like that time i accidentally stabbed you in the rib with a corkscrew." you said.

he nodded, "yeah and that time i fell down your stairs at your old home and you, me and charles had to figure out if my foot was broken."

you looked up at him and pressed your chin against his chest to look up at his face, "you really should've gone to the doctor for that. like two of your toes were purple."

"i lived." he then held you face for a brief moment before there was a knock on the door and you two stepped back from one another. he patted you on the arm before he shuffled you to the couch to act more casual than what you were just doing.

at least no one took any photos of you moment of romantic intimacy. in all fairness, what photos the press had of the two of you. was nothing compared to the photos max personally had of the two of you. everything from you in his driver's suit with nothing underneath (and the zipper open), to videos of you giving him head. he even had a video you took of him eating you out.

max had mapped every inch of skin with his lips and tongue over the years. from the plane of your back to behind your ear, the back of your knee and in between your legs. he could probably trace your body from memory with his lips. there was a likely chance you could do the same about him.

it continued on into the last night in the netherlands. the room max was staying in was lovely. you assumed only the best for the country's golden boy. you had come over after dinner and max was more than happy to see you.

you were seated by the big window with your feet propped up against the window ledge. in your hand was a glass of wine and you felt content watching the city go by as night hung in the sky. max was in the shower, so you were keeping yourself company.

you heard the shower turn off and you put the glass of wine down on the window ledge before he came out. even now, seeing max's cock made you look away to preserve some modesty.

you hoped that your expression didn't give it away. as he walked out naked with him rubbing the towel in his hair. to see him so exposed made your heart jump.

"like what you see?" he asked. he went over to the bed and got onto it, "i'm sorry for keeping you waiting."

you shot him a look, "i can't believe you convinced me to do this. is this a way for you to inflate your ego even more? you won this race and now you want to stick your cock in the one you drove off the track! and you didn't even get punished for it!" you wanted to stop your foot like a child out of sheer anger.

he chuckled, "well, you're free to come and go. i'm not forcing you to do anything... i certainly didn't force you to wear that dress either." his gaze on you was hot and it made you more flustered.

"i wanted something i could replace if you tore it." never forget when you had to replace your driving suit because someone got a good hold of it and ripped it at the seams around your pussy and ass.

call max impatient, it wasn't like your team couldn't afford it. if they couldn't he could always make room for you at red bull. he had to look after you.

"then i suggest you take it off before i start getting my hands on you." he spread his legs a little wider on the bed. the towel was on the floor to be hung up later, "last chance, my treasure. i want to hear you say it... you want me."

you reached behind you to get the zipper down. you'd rather die, but his heated gaze was enticing. you instead replied, "i want to ride you max, i want you under me as i fuck the daylights out of you. it is not a want, it is a need."

max barked out a laughter, "always so poetic." then licked his lips when you stepped out of the dress you wore. letting it grow wrinkled on the floor. it was followed by the expensive matching pair of bra and panties.

"did i buy that for you?" he asked curiously. he prone to sending you gifts in the off-season. while the rest of the drivers got joke gifts between each other. max always handed you something with a price tag that would make most gawk at.

you looked down at the matching set. you shrugged, "i honestly couldn't tell you. the brand it italian so, maybe it was a gift from charles." you made a face as you thought about it. it was all a lie, it was obviously from max.

the idea of charles even knowing your bra size felt weird, but with max it felt normal.

something crossed max's face as he leaned a little forward, his arms crossed along his toned chest, "funny. you're quite the comedian.' he raised his eyebrows at you, "so tell me, does leclerc fuck better than i do? is there other men i should know about? i heard you went on a boat trip with zak brown, is he getting action too? whore."

you made a face, "you're a possessive fuck, verstappen." you swallowed, "and if it strokes your ego, no. i'm not fucking anyone else because if i tried to fuck someone else i think you'd make their death look like an accident." you stepped forward, "if i told you that i was getting action from anyone, could be a random man. you'd kill them!"

max puffed out his chest for a moment in defiance, "really? what about that lovely girl, that reporter during our first year in formula one. you saw one picture and got the wrong idea. you left you crying. so don't act like i am so mean man." he uncrossed his arms as you got closer.

"she was going to use you, max. i knew it. you were so eager to be loved by someone, she would've taken advantage of you."

max sighed and braced his arms behind him. the two of you were naked and you were bickering. he said, "then name someone who won't take advantage of me."

you got onto the bed, your hand on his chest. you could feel the quickened pace of his heart. you said softly, lips close to his, "me." before you pulled him flat onto the bed and started to make out with him.

he loved the sound of that. when the kiss was broken, he watched you straddle his waist. if max verstappen was going to pick any lover, it was going to be the woman who drove him crazy on and off the track. someone he pushed him to be the best.

but in glimmers of tenderness, a soft underbelly. max knew that you loved him. and he loved you. it was just the words got all mixed up from the brain to the tongue.

i love you often became i'm going to beat you.

you sank onto his cock and hissed a little bit from the stretch. you held onto his shoulders for leverage while he guided you with his hands on your hips. your stomach flipped as you got fully seated on him.

"beautiful."

"shut up, max."

"never. not for you."

it was mushy, emotional in a way that made you core throb. a vulnerability that made you run hot. you rolled your hips against him, his cock nudged against the softest parts of you and it made your back arched.

max eventually got himself up against the headboard to feel closer to you. his hands left your hips and started to palm at your breasts. he soon leaned in for kissed along the soft skin. even his tongue dragged across your nipples, which only made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"you always feel beautiful." he said, "no one else has been like you." he had changed so much since you met, ten years of this. the back and forth.

it made you chest clenched. you could only imagine what would happen if all this came out. but, in fairness you couldn't keep it behind the doors of hotel rooms forever. the minor controversies of the two of you in each other's grasp.

you hated to admit it. but you loved max verstappen. he was as much a part of you as you were of him. racing was in your blood, but the draw towards each other. a twin flame.

he'd almost run you off the track, you'd get into his face. he'd buy you dinner and you'd slink off to his room. away from prying eyes, the two of you would make love. or at the very least a primal kind of sex that left your head spinning.

it was a game, one to shield feelings. but as you moved your hips against him. it became more obvious that you were both under a delusion. you thought he didn't know that you loved him and he though you didn't know that he loved you.

but was obvious. as you moved and he touched you. you two knew each other too well. it was an obsession and you had long since pushed past the line of enemies.

enemies didn't look at each other like they wanted to devour one another. max verstappen didn't think of lewis hamilton or charles leclerc when he saw engagment rings in shop windows. you didn't think of george russell or oscar paistri when saw expensive wrist watches. you didn't have dreams in your early adult years of you dressed in wedding white and alex albon beaming at you, and max didn't jerk off to a vast collection of nude photos of lando norris. you two were in your own little orbit.

you panted heavily as you continued to move. the feeling were growing as you felt the throb in your chest. you ranked your fingers down his chest.

"max." you panted.

"yes."

you pulled him by his face up for another kiss as you continued to move against him. you moaned into the kiss, and he in turn whimpered against you. the feeling was prodding at just the right parts of his brain.

you were beautiful and it drove him wild.

"i'm glad no one else can have you." max said softly, tinged with tenderness, "they wouldn't know how to handle a woman like you."

you held his face for a moment and looked into his eyes, "oh yeah and you're an easy ride too." then pulled him in for another searing kiss.

he held onto your hips and guided you quickly against him. both of you working for a common goal (for one).

you braced your hands on his bare chest to give yourself support and continued your movements. a few more heavy thrusts of your hips before you leaned down and kissed him on the lips. your cunt tight around him as the wash of lust came over you. you came, then he came. and it both left you exhausted and breathless.

you yelped a little when max grabbed you by the middle and pulled you on the beside beside him. he peppered your face with kisses and you felt hot all over. your heart leapt at the feeling of him holding you. his softening cock up against you.

"you're beautiful."

"max." you said softly, the heat still in your cheeks.

he held you, your head against his chest. one of his hands was on the back of your head while the other was interlocking his fingers with yours. you were gravitated towards the sounds of his heartbeat.

you sighed, "i fear i have to admit something to you, verstappen."

he perked up a little, "oh?"

you sighed and raised your head. your hair was a mess and you looked tired from the long day on the track and the longer night together. you said, "this isn't me showing weakness. if you mistake what i am going to say as weakness, then you have another thing coming."

he looked at you with raised eyebrows and asked, "what is it?"

you rubbed his broad chest and said in quiet voice, "max. i'm in love with you. and i have been for some time." you swallowed, diverting your eyes from him, "i think we suck as rivals. i think we need to become lovers, for real. even if we don't tell the press and give them that satisfaction. to be able to call you mine is all i would want."

he took you by the chin and pressed a kiss against your lips. your heart jumped and when he pulled away, he said quietly in return as if it were a secret, "i'd want nothing more. i think we're about to save the whole grid anymore headaches."

-

driving felt like a lifetime ago, as did the rivalry you and max shared. the day after max retired, he posted two pictures online. the first one had basically been scrubbed from the internet, except on max's phone. it was you two in your first year of formula one. your legs draped over his lap while he took a selfie of you two kissing. the second was a similar pose, years later. when the charade was over and you two finally admitted your feelings to one another.

in the caption he made a cheeky comment about how the two of you probably weren't as careful as you thought. but, that was being young and dumb. when you retired two years later, with two championships under your belt. you posted a photo of the small wedding you had a year prior.

your caption read, "call me mrs. verstappen and we're going to have a problem." you had simply hyphened your last names. which was then passed onto your son that you had a year after your retirement.

"niko." max was as he tried to wrangle his son, he eventually hoisted the little boy up, "you have to put on a life jacket, remember?" he smiled at his son, "you have to listen to mama, nicholas." he reminded his son.

the little boy nodded rapidly as max carried him onto the boat. you had lunch packed in a bag while max carried the rest of the stuff needed as well. the three of you were going for a little boat ride for the afternoon.

max made sure that his son was secure in a life jacket while you put the bag you were carrying down. you took a seat and picked up your son. you felt max's eyes lingering on you.

"what?" you asked half-jokingly.

max smiled, "i love you." he seemed lighter now, he had all the trophies he could ever need.

"i love you too." you responded, a phrase you had said a thousand times at least. to think that there was a period of time that the idea of loving him would've made you pull your hair out. you then kissed youe son on the cheek, "but i love you more, nico."

the little boy laughed and max winked at you before he went to get the boat started. while you busied yourself getting sunscreen on your son, you held your smile.

the media circus around you two eventually died now. there was no draw to mystery of your relationship, it also didn't help that the two of you kept nicholas out of the public eye. it left you both retired with your son. you'd sometimes think about how you were all those years earlier, when max was still your 'rival'. but, in all fairness, even if you two did stand toe-to-toe with one another and pushed one another into racing greatness. he was a better husband and father than he ever was a rival.

the sun, the moon and their little star.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

That's right, as soon as I saw you receiving questions again I came flying.

As always and should never be missed first, I hope you are well and I love your writing as much as you love Geo.

Ehem, could you please write (if you have time) how you think the cast would confess their love to the MC/reader?

💙Thank you for your attention and this probably has errors due to the translator.

Devoted (All x MC/Reader - Confession HCs)

I'm feeding you all well tonight. >:]

This is 3000 fucking words.

T.W.: Some of these (especially Sol) have more mentions of sexual activity than others.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Devoted: being devoted to something means being focused on that particular thing almost exclusively.

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

When it comes to you, Sol’s got no other feelings other than pure veneration and an obsessive, all-consuming love (and lust). 

He does plan to confess, but he wants to be certain you’re showing signs — definite signs — that you’re into him. Even if it’s just physical attraction, even if all you want from him is his body; he’ll take it, you can use him however you want, he won’t mind.

Sol’s going to be extremely cautious when it comes to ensuring you remain as his, he wants you to have eyes only on him, even you looking at someone else with adoration, especially a very certain Jericho-fucking-Ichabod, he’s going to lose his shit. Only maybe Hyugo will survive being annihilated, solely due to Sol tolerating him enough (and the fact they both have an iron-clad grip over each other when it comes to blackmail <3).

Sol, after befriending you, will probably have to forcefully clamp his mouth shut every time he says anything to you, this man is so perverted when it comes to you that he can never let his guard down.

When you start hanging out with him (and Hyugo), he’s going to try and get you to like him through his more teasing side, one with snark and sass galore. He also never hesitates to get into fist fights for you, so that’s an awesome bonus.

As he hoped, you became quite fond of the facade he’d upkept for you, anytime you blushed he’d have to tug his shirt down and clench his thighs together just to hide his raging boner. 

May or may not vanish at least thrice each time just to jack off to you. Even Hyugo is a bit concerned with how frequently he vanishes to the restroom. 

Anyway, Sol’s going to try and get you to become solely dependent on him, he can’t afford you having other people, other insignificant people interfering with his master bation plan to get you to be his.

He’ll definitely take advantage of the fact people are going missing to ‘take care of’ Crowe'; then he’ll stalk back into your bedroom and fuck himself into your sheets. Again. And Again. He’d then look over your sleeping form, resist the carnal urge to take you right then and there, and decide he’s gonna do it.

By the stage he confesses, he’s become your main source of comfort after ‘poor’ Crowe vanished, and he will 110% abuse that power. 

Will confess ‘by accident’, and he’ll immediately try to gauge your reaction, making sure to casually play it off as best as possible, his face beet red like his cock, considering how often it’s hard because of you.

If, no, when you blush, you’ll look down (either from shyness or astonishment) and you will notice.

Someone. Is. Very. Painfully. Disturbingly. Hard. 

You’re also fairly certain it's not you.

You’ll probably just blankly stare at the outline, with Sol trying to hide it.

Then you bite his cock off <333

You also better reciprocate, because he’s just gonna lunge at you.

Will basically asphyxiate you with how much he kisses you. <3

Like mans doesn’t care he’s too overjoyed with how his fantasy, his dream of being with you is finally, painstakingly, becoming reality.

Hyugo would probably not even know he had a thing for you until he was taking a shower one night. Then it hits him like an anvil and he’s a mix of embarrassment and panic.

Embarrassment because…oh no…he’s gonna have to evade you like the plague to not become a hot stuttering mess. And panic? Well; he has people from all social classes, all corners of the earth after his head (no not that head, smh y’all are vile).

Will then proceed to do the opposite of evading you, mans wants your attention too much.

He’s usually very good with controlling his facial expressions, but if he likes you, he's just going to be red-faced 24/7.

Ends up wearing a face mask just to hopefully cover the furious blush that usurps his face whenever you wave to him.

Like Sol, wants to be absolutely certain that you like him back before he confesses, mans is gonna be preparing the shit out of everything.

Will probably try to steal more of your attention and often ensures he’s gone more often; for absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?

Hyugo is definitely more touchy if he likes someone, maybe he’ll try to make one of those funky over-the-top handshakes with you.

Anyway, if, in the span of however much time you’ve both got left until graduation, Hyugo will probably become a pestilence in your mind. All logic and reason, all cognition and wit is slowly being eaten away by thoughts of cyan tresses and firmament eyes.

When he confesses, it’ll be purposeful, at least, he hopes it will be. He’ll invite you to either a park or beach, and his aim to to confess under the shroud of darkness.

He’ll probably be too afraid to face you and state his feelings, he’s paranoid he’ll look stupid. 

When the words leave his pretty lips, you just sit. Half of you is convinced this is a trick of the mind, until you ask…“What?”

He’s terribly ashamed at this point, literally any response will freak him out.

You’ll have to yank his arm and either squeeze him and his dick or smash your lips onto his, gripping the nape of his neck like your life depends on it.

It may or may not end up in more.

His eyes might even become waterfalls from the relief and sheer peace he feels to be here. For once in his life he doesn’t feel uneasy or trepidant. 

Which means you’ll have to make him cry from pleasure instead. <333

Brit will probably figure out she likes you after she realises she’s been stalking your socials for the past few months. She’ll then be appalled at how she even got this attached to anyone at all.

She’s going to be quite bold at the start, especially if she thinks what she has is a small crush, to which you’ll probably have her bluntly telling you you’re hot or something. (You’ll be spending the days deciphering whether that was sarcasm or not).

She’ll be dragging you shopping and for coffee dates as time goes by and if you’re up for it, you both go out to get mani-pedis and facials. This girl (and Geo) know the best cosmetic places in the city, they used to share locations with each other for better haircare and eyeliner products.

She also defends you from bullies. If you’re the shy type, she will be throwing metal trays and food at all the shitbiscuits who dare to speak a crude word against you.

Will eventually realise, after genuinely getting to know you, that she does in fact hold genuine emotional attachment to you. She then proceeds to panic. (mood)

This girl, while confident, is extremely worried about the opinions of people whom she cares for. She doesn’t want to be on eggshells when around you, so she may end up avoiding you.

Overtime, you too had become attached to Brit, and gained a lot of respect for all the shit she gets put through all the time; so her doing this affects you a lot.

She’ll snap if you get another girl best friend (that’s not Jess), and will become more annoyed in general if you ignore her.

This girl is terrified of rejection, but she’ll end up so riled up that she’ll blatantly admit she likes you and not elaborate.

You both eventually decide to deal with this like the wise adults you are, and talk it out. She’ll definitely be extremely embarrassed about sharing her feelings, and will hide her face in her manicured hands to conceal the blush on her face.

It’s okay you both end up holding hands and (almost) kissing.

I say almost because Brittney went to order more coffee (totally not from anything to do with you noo).

Y’all have monthly shopping sprees and spa sessions now; and hang out at one-another’s places to do each others’ hair and gossip.

Jess is going to be one of the less obvious when it comes to being into you.

Girlypop essentially will do whatever you want, she’s much more shy when it comes to actually speaking her mind, you’ll have to coax her into feeling comfortable enough with you to speak her mind.

Will blush if you compliment her.

She will definitely ramble about you to her online friends (she’s got a blog so she’s gonna have some friends lmfao).

Is going to be slightly more outspoken around you, as in, will actually have a conversation with you. Not to say she’s incapable, she just often needs to mentally sift through everyone she meets to determine whether they’re assholes or not.

She will definitely ask for external advice on how to court you, but ends up being too afraid to actually attempt it (mood).

Is 110% going to ask the others for any signs that you like her, especially Brittney.

Will be the type to just text online all the time, she feels more free behind a screen.

Will probably buy you a gift out of nowhere, will be smiling with pure adoration if you like it (you do).

Girl is too shy to ask you out, so she’ll probably just have to end up being asked directly if she likes you, or if you confess first. Either way the answer will be yes, albeit if you do the former she’ll be way more hesitant.

When you hug her (and with consent kiss her forehead), she’ll faint.

You’ll be worried if you killed her.

It’s okay she saw heaven right beforehand.

When y’all both get over the initial shock, she’s going to hug you again. Probably won’t let go for a while, until the post-confession clarity kicks in and she panics.

You’ll have to cup her face and tell her you’re not upset at all.

And you both end up just warmly embracing for the next hour or so.

Geo’s absolutely abominable when it comes to feelings; especially romantic ones.

He would be the type to suspect something was up, but he’d dismiss anything that even remotely resembles emotional attachment.

He knows how cold he may come off as, and he’s content with you avoiding him like the plague. 

Alas, you don’t; in fact, you try to talk to him more frequently.

He’s the type to be silently judging everyone you talk to now, he’s nitpicking at them, mentally elevating himself as a better match, a better variant for you.

He doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, and neither do you. His face is as blank as Hyugo’s attendance roll.

He isn’t a fan of nicknames, but he’ll reluctantly like- *cough* allow you to call him ‘Geode’. The glee on your face made his heart seize up.

He’s definitely going to use his status to remove people from your life whom he deems as pests; whether that be bullies (if he doesn’t get them hospitalised first), toxic friends or other people who like you.

Geo’d be quite possessive, not to the extent where he thinks he owns you, but he’d definitely be eyemurdering anyone who can’t keep their hands off you. Worst part is he can’t stop them (unless you ask for help, then he 110% will), without looking a tad suspish.

Will be the type to hope you ask to hang out, and/or bribe a teacher of any class that you’re both in to make you guys a duo in whatever assignment is up next. Any excuse to be near you is a good one.

Will just ‘happen upon’ a snack you like and buys it for you.

Will be subconsciously trying to deny he likes you, but after a while, after being near you for as long as he has. Hell, the fact he chose to override his logic to be near you is enough reason for him to silently decide that, yes, he did like you.

Was he going to admit it? Absolutely not.

He cannot afford to get rejected, after all. He wants to be sure you like him back. He’ll even allow Brittney to find out if it means a higher chance of being with you.

But his method would be slow, subtle courting; buying you either food or cosmetics or whatever makes you happy. 

The joy in your eyes makes him softly smile each time (when you’re not looking).

Brittney will probably hint at it on his behalf tbh, and after a while, you notice he isn’t cracking. 

Which means you’re gonna have to do it.

Thankfully you possess a basic amount of common sense to ask him out in private, to which he does a double take, purely confused; which is fucking hilarious, because he never makes any genuine expressions other than annoyance or disdain (and the rare smile).

So you tell him you have a thing for him, and he’s just staring into your soul, before he briefly winces (he pinched himself y’all), and quietly stares.

When he softly affirms how he feels the same way, it’s as if all the hostility had been drained from his stoicism, left only with a calm, disciplined contentedness.

You’ve given Geo’s grey, monotonous life a stroke of colour, one that left his bland, monotonous existence behind, because now, he had a purpose. A genuine, heartfelt purpose.

And you’d never know just how grateful he was to have you.

Crowe will probably realise he likes you a while before he confesses.

I feel like he’d be similar to Sol in the secretly-obsessive category, but he’s much better at hiding it.

He’d focus on trying to make you as comfortable as possible with him, offering you study notes, tutoring sessions, free coffee…just trying to treat you as much as possible without making it too obvious what his goal is.

Basically just tries to be a backbone that you can fall back on when you need it. And let me tell you, he’s a fucking good one.

He is probably going to try and maintain normalcy between you two, slowly alternating between loving and politeness, he wants to determine whether he can even be with you.

Definitely will be giving romantic innuendos the longer his feelings for you fester, they don’t seem to be weakening at all for him. In fact, they’re getting stronger with time, like a good wine.

He’ll probably lightly flirt with you as well, and if you blush or, even better, flirt back? Man is gonna be thinking about that for the next month.

Crowe is going to be more protective over you with time, especially when you both hang out. He wants to ensure you’re safe and comfortable, no matter the circumstances.

You’re gonna feel very secure around him.

Will probably test the waters after a while and ask for your hand –in marriage– because it’s ‘cold’.

You (I’m assuming) oblige, and overtime it becomes a normal thing for you both (teehee).

Will confess to you while holding your hand as well. You stop feeling cold for a while from how warm you feel.

If the mood strikes, y’all may even partake in the act known as ‘kissing’.

You both will be struggling to not smile for a long time after that.

Deryl will be oblivious that he likes you for a while. Until he isn’t. Which will be a few months at least.

When he does though, he’ll treat you the same as when he did before, extremely friendly, massive foodie and great support system.

Although with you he feels a more soulful bond, he wants to be seen as a source of shelter and safety for you; more so than for the others.

He’ll be keeping his feelings in for a long time though, he doesn’t want to make things awkward with you.

Will want to share snacks with you, food is his love language. Y’all are gonna be going places and consuming everything.

You both are so going to arcades to gamble on who pays for snacks-

He’s a sporty guy, so he’d invite you to his sports shows (all of them, even the ones that are private af). If you went he’d actually cry tears of joy.

His way of expressing his love would mostly be through affirmation and physical touch. He’d be hugging you 24/7 if he could (and was given consent ofc).

Also uses his reputation and overall build to essentially threaten potential bullies to fuck off. He’s strong af and is very capable of coming out of a fight much less hurt than whoever chose to screw with him. He’ll be much more unmerciful if said people were hurting you.

Over time, he’d accept he has feelings for you and that they may not be reciprocated, but if he gets a feeling — either from you or from a snide comment of Brittney’s — that you like him? He’ll just man up and tell himself that he’s gonna confess.

So he does, as he’s walking you home one night (cause…we’re literally hot shit; people wanna steal us all the time), and when you both get to your residence, he gently takes your wrist and awkwardly asks if you can allow him a moment.

When he states his feelings, red-faced and all, he’s completely accepted they might not be reciprocated. 

So when you grin and tell him you feel the same? And you’re not kidding?

My guy just stands there, monotone, for about a moment, before his face becomes as radiant as the sun.

He’s literally so happy he could die.

Will bounce in his skin.

Anyway y’all end up on your couch eating Sour Patch Kids while watching a shitty movie and commenting on how dumb it is.

Truly the experience of all time.

It gets even better when you both end up falling asleep on each other (after Deryl tires himself out…I’ll leave that to your imaginations <3).

[robolvrr]

I hope you’re having a good day/night! Can we have tfa starscream and tfp starscream with a female cybertronian that’s taller than them and got the hips?😼

Also just wanted to say I love your writing!! Happy to request my brainrot here and not feel embarrassed 😖💜

she's a brick house! ◜⁠✧*ﾟ⁠+

and if i said this freak helped cultivate my voice kink, then what?

warnings: nsfw under cut. i LOVE me a skinny twig x powerhouse ship real bad.

"don't be preposterous. i don't fear you, no matter what you hear otherwise."

tfp! starscream

him and that sass of his is often too frustrating for his associates to develop anything further than a common goal oriented relationship.

the closest? knockout. and that's simply because their snark and combined chaos doesn't edge to flat hatred or harm as his other dynamics tend to.

he's not interested in your arrival at first, until megatron mentions in passing that you were a personally selected recruit. now, his pace is measured as he mutters to himself — the last thing he needs is to be fighting for a spot at the table.

not with all the aft-kissing and manipulating he's done to establish his reputation.

your introduction is short. starscream pretends not to care.

however... you don't make it easy.

starscream had always found his frame perfection. he's slender, lithe and regardless of the many repercussions with his boss, it's no surprise his metal armor is just as opulent as the nemesis itself.

there is rarely a creature or mech he has to crane his neck for.

though when he does drink you in, his intake opens, then closes, then opens once more. those razor-sharp brows are as expressive as they are obvious.

not only do you tower over him, closer to megatron's shoulder, your paint is a deep maude and your general frame is.. well. he's not complaining.

you're not as polished.. though he can tell you take hot oil baths and your curves are well-melded. his frown blooms even more. he doesn't need to be thinking about that.

wide hips. wide legs. there's an arch of ruby metal nestled at your hips that crest similar to one of these planet's filthy paradise birds.

his sneer as he realizes of course you can't fly either is enough to prevent any concerning thoughts flooding his processor.

"i see. and just what can you do?"

"what is asked of me, starscream. i do hope there won't be issues with my presence on the bridge. we are to be working close from now on, after all."

"ah, yes, o— what?! b-but lord megatron!"

turns out that megatron has had enough of his scrap. you are within the same rank but as he quickly and scornfully realizes, perform as an overqualified sparkling-sitter.

it doesn't help that you're so painfully professional. he wants to despise you, but you firmly push him from his schemes and don't have a bucket of bolts in your helm.

he's clever. you read him and his lies. he tries and fails several assassination attempts that always end with him feeling foolish and riled.

his respect, as well as his attraction, is mournfully earned. sometimes he ponders if you know this, which makes the torture of his spark crackling in your wake worse.

"oho? but of course, my sweet!"

tfa! starscream

unlike prime starscream, he is overtly flashy and unabashed with his interest. after all, what good is rule if not with competition?

he does not fear you — he did manage with sabotaging his boss and avoiding execution while doing so. the decepitcon ranks were truly mech eat mech mentality.

let's hope you're not a gentle giant, because he's got a silver glossa and isn't afraid to use it to woo.

"is it just me, or is that chrome sparkling, darling? and here i thought you were just a brute."

alright. he's just as much of a brat.

he takes pride in reaction. not only is he a skilled strategist and fighter but he knows how to ruffle feathers.

and like the boastful seeker he is, he's going to find what makes you tick.

needles for your attention just short of pushy.

walks behind you with that crooked grin of his, even though he usually likes to glide in front of his subordinates associates. hmm, wonder why?

expect him on patrols to fly above you, flaunting off in his element. what was just a simple recon turns into a full on flight show.

no personal space. he enjoys almost, just almost, pressing up against your chassis. aren't you lucky? he's wrapped around your digit.

finds excuses to touch you. never lecherously, but in the sort of a manner a feline rubs between legs.

speaking of which... he adores yours. so strong. so shapely. just how were you forged? he wants to thank primus.

nsfw headcanons.

tfp! starscream

he desires to be in control. with how much he's realistically gotten knocked around he isn't interested in getting on his knees in the berthroom.

at least... not for now. it'll take time.

imagine his surprise when you lay on your back anyways, lips curved and valve throbbing.

it ends up with him nestled and secured deep, spike bursting with transfluid between messy, sharp thrusts.

his claws dig at your frame and leave jagged marks behind, which he doesn't apologize for because you keen so approvingly he wonders just how much you'd let him get away with.

"look at you. mewling like pleasureware. pathetic."

the praise you give is music he doesn't care to admit about. suddenly he's jackhammering and his fans and vents are blasting, metal and arousal schlicking through the darkness of your habsuite.

"and here.. the mighty.. fall."

garnet optics glare down at the slope of your neck, before he's caressing up and down and nipping near your audials.

he takes you like a conquest. his, all his. and no one is taking that from him.

"for you, lord starscream. i would fall a thousand times."

interfacing is fast, uncouth but tender. you are his prized possession.

tfa! starscream

slut. that's all i have to say.

he wants you to be rough, to break him, to make him see stars. he wants you to lose your cool and force him into submission. this within itself is a sign of his obsession, for he would rather die than ever admit defeat.

his e.m. field is constantly thrumming with want. half the time you have to wear him out so he doesn't project to the entire ship that he wants to be treated like shareware.

seductive, impish mech from pit. you question if he's been sent down to drive you to insanity.

which is why he's currently hoisted over your desk, knocking over datapads and slamming into panels with a shriek that borders pain and pleasure.

your spike is bigger than his. that doesn't mean he can't keep up with you.

he will have you work for it. even when his valve squeezes and you swear he's the tightest you've ever speared, he still manages to take it.

meanwhile, he's whispering the dirtiest commands, demanding you flip him over so he can feel you.

"ha haaaa.. so easy to wind you up, commander! d-do you always have to be so cruel?"

then he's yanking you down by the hips and feeling all over, dermas stretched to an wicked smile.

"harder. don't you want to make me overload?"

you can tell he's just finding excuses to grope you, especially as he uses the grip on your aft to speed up the pace. even with dimmed optics you can feel his gaze, appreciative.

thoughts and prayers to the poor vehicon that has to wipe down after you're through.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 6

Rex “Splode” Sloan + Dry humping and/or Frottage

This based off of season 2 Rex, since he’s nicer, and I feel like he would have to nearly die to come out the closet. This takes place after hes been shot in the head and is in the hospital. Reminder to self that he only has one hand at this point.

I wanted to write about viltrumite reader, but that will have to be saved for another day.

kinktober 2024 masterlist

“Dude, I’m fine, go save the world or whatever they want you to do” Rex snarked, his voice raspy and almost nasally, like his nose was stuffy or his tongue was too dry. He may act so prickly and standoffish, but ever since he woke up, Rex had been almost desperately clinging to your hand, with the one hand he still had left. He may have told you to piss off, but he was still leaning against you as you sat beside him on the hospital bed.

Seeing him like this made your stomach turn. What were your powers good for, if the guy that mattered the most to you ended up like this. You had accepted a while ago that you liked Rex, even if he was a huge dick sometimes. He may treat his girlfriends like shit, and pick fights that he can’t win, but you have always known he was a hero. And putting himself in danger like he did, ending up like this? It only proved it to you.

Rex had never been cuddly like this before, even if you had imagined it many times before. The closest you ever got were bro hugs or when you would carry him in your arms when flying to a different location. This felt like more, or maybe that was just your stupid brain thinking it meant more. Anyone having gone through what he did would want human contact, it made you feel ashamed of how your entire arm tingled, just from his hand holding yours.

“They don’t need me right now” you mumble, carefully leaning your head against his, without really touching, just hovering it there. His expression was a little pinched as he pulled away to look at you, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He was thinking that much was clear, but about what you weren’t sure, instead you couldn’t help staring at his bloodshot eye.

“What if I want you to leave so I can jerk off, huh? What if I need to get my rocks off” he huffed. There wasn’t his usual fire behind it, none of his usual sass, he seemed so much… softer right now. You glanced down at his lower body, still covered by his hospital blankets, and then his missing hand, and then the one clasping your own.

“Well… I don’t mind if you need to… ill… ill even help you, just bros helping bros right?” you peeped out, the words leaving you without you truly registering them. You could feel your own eyes widening at your words, just like Rex’s were. Had… had you really just said that? You had probably just fucked everything up, no way Rex would want you around. He had literally just been shot in the head, lost his hand, and you offer to get him off?

“Fuck, ill-ill leave” you hurry out, letting go of his hand to turn yourself, ready to climb out the bed and speed out of there so you could go drown yourself or fly into the sun. instead, Rex’s hand grabbed your wrist. He couldn’t have pulled you back if he wanted too, especially now that he was so weak from what happened. But it still made you stop, glancing back at him as you bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste blood.

His cheeks were flushed, and his pupils blown. At least, the one that hadn’t been blown this entire time because of the whole, bullet through the head situation. Rex was chewing at his lip again, contemplating his words carefully, before they left him, much softer and more hesitant than you had ever heard him. “What if… what if I want you, to do that. Help me, that is” he mumbled, ducking his head to not look you in the eyes.

Your gulp was loud in the quiet room, your hands shaking softly as you slowly turn around. Licking at your lips you carefully crawl up onto the bed and straddle him, just barely hovering above Rex so at to not to crush him. Rex seemed so embarrassed to look you in the eyes, and yet, he didn’t look away, instead sliding his one remaining hand down to intertwine your fingers again.

Your foreheads pressed together as you made quick work of fishing you both out. It was much easier on Rex, you just had to carefully pull his hospital gown up. For you there were a few buckles and zippers, and then the struggle of getting your boxers and the cup you wore down enough to get free.

The different kinds of pain medication and whatever else they had Rex on made it hard for him to get fully hard, but his shaky breathing and soft gasps were all you needed to know he enjoyed it just as much as you did. Even half hard it still felt better than anything Rex had ever done before, any girl he had ever done before.

Rex hadn’t noticed how he had clenched his eyes shut, lips pursed in concentration before you brushed yours against his, just the barest of whispers. Your hand was slick wrapped around you both, just slicking you both up with shared pre before you placed it on the bed to support your weight, making it possible to rock your hips together.

He felt his heart flutter like he never had before, maybe it was the brain damage, but this felt heavenly. Where past experiences had felt good, yes, this? This felt right, especially because it was you. You almost passed out when Rex kissed you back, fully pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and hesitant, as if Rex wasn’t used to kissing anybody, but it was so perfect.

Your hips rocked together, hard lengths rubbing together and making the front of Rex’s hospital down slick with your shared fluids. Kisses kept passing between you, but it never became more than soft wet kisses, tongues carefully exploring the others mouth, like exploring never before seen territory.

Rex was the first to cum, his hips shakily jolting up against your own. His eyes fluttered and his grows furrowed, a shudder running through his tired still aching body, but the pleasure washed it away, if only for a moment.

Seeing him finish like that, because of you and only you, was all you needed to tumble over the edge too, your own fluids joining his own, creating even more of a kiss. Your mouths were pressed together, but it more like you were just panting into the others mouth, trying to gather yourself again.

When Rex let go of your hand, you almost feared you regret it. That was until he hooked it around you, his handless arm joining the first and pulling you down beside him, the explosion hero at least smart enough not to pull you on top of him. “That… that was good. I wouldn’t mind, if you… want to do that again” he finally panted out, voice raspier and shy, his face red as Rex glanced off to the side in fear of rejection.

A soft chuckle left you, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his neck before settling down beside him, your own arms coiling around you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.” You whisper out, heart growing hotter as that smile you loved bloomed on his face. You loved Rex at all times, but seeing him being vulnerable, the times where he felt like he didn’t need to hide behind a cocky exterior, was the most beautiful of all.

[forgeofthenine]

Ok but picture this - tiefling tails are ridged, right? Just imagine grinding against their tail, maybe holding horns for stability~ maaaaaaybe we could get some hcs on how the tiefs would cope with this? :3

Tiefling tails are absolutely ridged and more people need to include tail play in their fanfiction! I loved writing this one anon, and I hope you don't mind but I added on some headcanons for Rolan as well :)

NSFW under the cut, all gender neutral and nothing that needs warnings

Tiefling bachelor NSFW tail headcanons

Dammon

This man would cope incredibly well with tail play

Dammon is a slut for any attention you pay to his tail and grinding against it is absolutely going to get him going

It doesn't matter if you guys are clothed or naked, in his bedroom or just in his forge storage room, you only need to ask and he's ready

He's so loud every time you do it, press yourself down on his tail while holding the base of his horns and you will hear the prettiest moans from him

Hands roam over your whole body, Dammon can't keep still

Speaking of not staying still, he will absolutely be hard as a rock and bucking his hips when you guys really get into it

You can make him cum untouched by riding his tail

He praises you so nicely too

"Just like that, making me feel so good baby."

Zevlor

Zevlor is scandalised and horny

"My tail-? You're actually suggesting... Well... I'm not opposed, as such."

He might take a bit more warming up, maybe a bit of making out and heavy petting, but he will also do tail play

You'll find he also gets very into it after a while

It's always done in the utmost privacy (or as close as you can get while on the road)

Your hold is on his horns but his are always on your hips, Zevlor is a gentleman and helps you grind yourself down on him

This man groans, and tips his head back, and looks so pretty-

Keep your hands on his horns, help pull his head back, kiss and suck on his neck

Zevlor just melts under your affections in bed

He won't cum untouched, but this is a definite way to work him up into a bit of a frenzy

Rolan

Put this man in his place

Sit him the hell down and grind on his tail until he's a whimpering little mess underneath you

No one can tell me Rolans horns aren't the perfect shape to hold

He's built for this

It doesn't matter where you are, the grove or Ramaziths tower, pull him off to relative privacy and he's all yours

Like I said, he whimpers

Rolan will whine too

Never quite loses his sass though, if he can't tease with words then he'll nip at your collarbones and shoulders instead

Trust him to tense up his tail randomly so you'll feel it shift against you and falter in your pace

Rolan can cum untouched like this too but he'll never admit it

Instead he prefers to just snark you

"Can't seem to get enough of me, can you darling? Don't be greedy now."

[gamblersdoll]

Could you do one on pro hero Izuku? Like the same why for katsuki. Because I literally don't see anyone writing for Izuku. 🙏🏾🦋

cw: semi nsfw, pro!hero izuku.

an: you actually just caused me to go into brainrot for izuku again… ugh hes so fine.

after your yuuei years, you and izuku did eventually move in together. of course, the press didnt necessarily like it since of the whole issue that izuku and ochaco hadnt dated. izuku said oh well to that, making it known it wasnt their problem.

but if it was one thing that you realize, izuku was a sass ass too. just like his childhood friend, katsuki.

which could be a pain in the ass. like now, while you stir up some cabbage soup— which was a favorite of izukus. “you just cook it so well!” he cheered, hugging you from behind and kissing your cheek.

“well, you cant really fuck up a cabbage soup unless you just ignore directions and recipe calls.” you chuckle, almost laced with snark. almost.

he sucks his teeth, pulling himself off of your body. “well, excuse the fuck outta’ me then.”

you chuckled, passing him a bowl and kissing his cheek. “hush up, zuk.”

another instance? showers. hes tenderheaded, and loves when you do his hair.. yet complains in the process.

“ah— you fuckin’ bitch.” he groans, eyes squeezed shut and breathing through his nose. you snort, patting his shoulder.

“you asked me to do this.” you say, water running through your hair and his.

he pinches your nipple, a yelp coming from you. “shut your ass.”

[m-musings]

Headcanons: Fallout Characters Love Language

A/N: let's gooooo y'all, I actually had motivation to write more than one thing this week, M is on a roll 🥳🥳🥳

Word Count: 534 Warnings/Other Notes: none!

Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard:

When it comes to our favorite gunslinger, his love language is different depending on when you meet him.

If you met Cooper before the bombs were dropped, his love language was physical touch.

He would always have an arm slung around your shoulder or a gentle hand slipped into yours as he walked around the movie lot during a break from filming.

But if you meet him afterwards, his love language has changed into words of affirmation.

Even though his time in the Wasteland has made him more wary of what people say, he can somehow tell when people are being truthful or not.

So whenever you tell him you trust, love and respect him, he grins gently, knowing you're being honest with him.

Lucy Maclean:

Lucy's love language is acts of service.

She would do almost anything to make sure the people she cares about are safe and happy.

I mean, c'mon, she traveled all across a blazing hot hellscape to look for her father and try to bring him home safely, she would do the same for anyone she was close to.

If you're in need of anything, Lucy will not only be glad to do it for you, she would volunteer near immediately to be of assistance.

She just enjoys helping, it makes her happy to see other peoples joy, even if she doesn't end up getting anything in return.

She would move heaven and earth if it meant that you would be even a little less stressed or tired at the end of the day.

Knight Maximus:

Maximus's love language is quality time!

He didn't necessarily get one on one time with anyone after Shady Sands was destroyed, so he longs for someone to focus on him and vice versa.

He would enjoy spending time with the few people he's close to as being in the BoS instilled a strong sense of community in him, even if it wasn't grown always in the kindest way.

Maximus knows how short life can be in the Wasteland, so when he's got someone he cares about, he's intent on being with them as much as possible before either of their time is up.

When you have any time to get some relaxation in, he is right there beside you, perfectly satisfied with simply being in your presence.

If you'd let him, he'd spend every waking moment spending time with you and making you feel loved.

Norm Maclean:

Norm's love language is most definitely physical touch.

He's a grump around most other people but when it comes to you, he adores every bit of attention he receives.

While he isn't one for a lot of PDA, he will not complain if you hold his hand or cling to him for a while when around the other dwellers.

When his dad and Lucy are gone, he seeks you out for comfort, holding you in his arms while he tells you his worries.

Norm can become lost in his own thoughts at times, so having your touch is something very soothing and grounding for him.

At the end of the day, behind all of the snark and sass lies a very sweet and very cuddly man who cares very much for you.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Crumb Together

Prompt Day 27: Coffee Shop AU | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Modern AU, Meet-Cute, Platonic Stobin, Coffee Shop/Bakery AU, Fluff, Steve POV

Steve is carefully filling the bakery case. He's been here since three a.m., and it's still a half-hour until opening, but at least he's on time and not behind schedule for once. 

"Hey dingus, do we need more muffins?" Robin hollers, banging through the double-doors from the back to the front. 

"No, I have enough, thanks so much," he snaps. He's snippy this morning, pretty mad she ever talked him into this whole coffee shop scheme. Sure, they're retail pros, but small business owners? He should have said no fucking way. But she was excited, and he wanted her to be happy. That’s always his downfall.

He's definitely re-thinking that now that they’ve completely lost their social lives by keeping these insane working and sleeping schedules. They only see each other, which isn't the worst thing in the world, other than the fact that he doesn't know the last time he's touched boobies. Or dick. He's not picky. 

He needs to get laid, and he can’t do that stuck inside this coffee shop slash bakery hell with his best friend.

He's about to turn and sass her, when someone taps on the front door and he jumps, throwing a chocolate muffin up into the air, fumbling it around, before finally regaining control. 

He didn't drop it, but it looks a little worse for wear. He can't sell it like this. 

Well, fuck.

If he was a hired hand, he'd ignore the annoying tapper until the official opening time. Which is twenty-nine minutes from now. But as the owner, he puts down his tray and walks towards the door. They could use the paying customer, even if they’ve shown up way too early, like a rude asshole.

He looks, but he can't see anyone out there in the dark. Maybe he should ignore it.

He doesn't, instead he unlocks the door, and there's a guy standing there. 

"Hey, nice catch," the guy says, smiling. 

Steve forces a smile in return, "How can I help you?" 

"I know you're not open yet, but I saw you in there juggling the muffins, and I'm on my way out of town and really need a cup of coffee. My coffee maker decided this was the morning to croak," he says, slashing his whole hand across his neck, making a throat-slitting motion. 

He's rambling, like Robin.

Steve finds it a little cuter on him, than he does when Robin does it at this ungodly hour. 

Steve sighs, and opens the door wider to let him inside, "You just want black coffee?" 

"Please," the guy says. 

"I'll have to brew it. It'll just take a minute." 

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver," he says, and Steve can see that he's looking at Steve's chest, looking for a name tag. But Steve's not wearing one. Because as the owner, he finally doesn't have to. 

Robin is booting up the point-of-sale system, "Black coffee?" she repeats. 

The guy nods. 

"For?" 

"Eddie," the guy answers. 

"Good thing you asked him, I'd never know who to hand it to," Steve snarks at Robin, starting the coffee machine.

Eddie laughs.

Robin doesn't.

When it's done, Steve places the cup on the counter, and Robin immediately picks it up and writes Eddie's name on it. 

Which, that's stupid. They all know it's Eddie's coffee. Then, Robin sacks up the slightly banged up muffin and hands it to Eddie.

"You scared him and caused him to squish it. So, it's yours. On the house!" she says, far too chipper for this time of morning. 

"Thanks, I'll try to drop by and scare him more often," Eddie says, reading his name on his cup, grinning. Then Eddie slides a ten dollar bill across the counter, waving off his change. 

As soon as the bell on the door jangles, signaling Eddie's departure, Robin turns and slaps Steve on the arm. 

"What the hell? That cute boy wanted to flirt, and you totally dropped the ball, dingus!" 

Steve scrunches up his forehead, "Huh?"

Robin just shakes her head, annoyed, and heads back towards the kitchen.

Is Steve so rusty that he missed flirting? Goddamnit. 

Steve has just turned the front door lock, and flipped the sign to closed, when he hears his cell phone ringing somewhere in the distance. He follows the sound, and when he picks it up, it's a number he doesn't recognize. Great. More telemarketer bullshit. 

He goes to swipe the decline button, when Robin shouts, "You better get that!"

He looks back at his phone and cautiously accepts the call, not knowing what the hell she's done now.

"Hello?"

"Is this Steve? From the coffee shop?"

"Yeah, this is Steve," Steve says, suspicious. He has no idea who he's talking to.

"Good, good. This is Eddie. From this morning. The coffee jerk that made you open early."

"Oh, uh, okay. Um…"

"How did I get this number?" Eddie asks, laughing.

"Yeah, that was what I was thinking," Steve admits.

"Well, somehow it ended up written on my coffee cup this morning, with your name and a time to call."

Steve shakes his head, Robin is such an asshole, but Steve smiles.

"Well, I'm not sure how that happened," Steve says, teasing back. Flirting. 

"Big mystery," Eddie teases, "but since I've got you on the phone, would you like to grab dinner or drinks. Coffee?"

"No coffee," Steve laughs, "but yes. To the other two, for sure. But be forewarned, I eat really early. Like an old person. Early bird specials are my jam. And I go to bed by nine. Eight-thirty if I can get away with it. I gotta be here by three to get ready to open this place."

He's learned to get that info out of the way, early. 

"Well, that sounds perfect. I get up at four to get to my jobsite. I'm in construction," Eddie says.

Steve smiles, it's been a while since anyone has understood his schedule.

"So, dinner? Four-thirty or five?" Eddie asks, and Steve laughs.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! ☕

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[adiluv-moved]

✦ : ❝ 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚 !

꒰synopsis—wc꒱ in which he cares for you, in his own ways; 2565 words.

꒰warnings꒱ akademiya roommate wanderer, pre-established relationship ꒰mutual pining꒱, reader is an amurta scholar, lightly edited.

꒰adi moment꒱ here's my little love letter to roommate wanderer, because i fr love it! might write more for this since i've got a ton of ideas that didn't make it in here! the reader is very briefly mentioned to wear glasses btw, though you can just ignore it if you don't use them—doesn't have any impact. hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

i.

“Boring.”

“Unsubstantial.”

“Confusing thesis.”

“Oh, and look.” He flits the paper over in your direction, tapping at the short paragraph you’d written on it. “This one’s missing a thesis entirely.”

Your eye twitches at the blatant snark within his final remark, gaze focused on the Wanderer as he lets out a sigh, dropping the stack of papers in his hands to rest on his lap before lazily leafing through them once more. He doesn’t seem to be any more pleased by this second inspection than he was the first, gorgeous features contorting into a frown as he glances up at you.

It’s almost impressive, how much effort it takes for you to maintain your amicable expression, biting the inside of your cheek to an almost painful degree and praying that the ever growing darkness in your eyes doesn’t expose the extent of your frustration. To say that your hands were aching would, at this point, be a heavy understatement.

Perhaps it was simply foolish of you, asking for his assistance and deluding yourself into believing that he might aid you without any traces of his usual sass and impudent attitude.

Perhaps you should’ve expected him to hold you to his unbelievably high standards, refusing to allow you to move onto the rest of your paper before you’d presented him with an absolutely perfect introduction—which, in your mind, still makes no sense considering that your papers aren’t expected to be nearly as perfect as his—field work of more importance for an Amurta scholar like yourself.

And, perhaps, your mental well-being would be in far better condition if you’d simply decided to try and complete everything yourself. ꒰… Though, it was hard to deny the sneaking suspicion that he still might’ve involved himself had you not gone to him first—meddlesome as he is.꒱

You half-expect him to return the parchment to your hands, demanding that you rewrite them for the nth time before seeking out his judgment once more—but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls one of your drafts from the stack, slapping the rest onto the empty space beside him in order to give the chosen sheet a once-over. He nods, holding it out to you, and allows you to take it from him before he speaks once more.

“This is the most tolerable.” The Wanderer begins, and you’ve lived with him long enough to understand that it’s a compliment, “Just cut out some of the filler, and it’ll be usable.”

There are practically tears in your eyes as you reread it—fingers having suffered numerous cramps in the efforts of producing a favorable outline—and the extent of your reaction certainly isn’t lost on your roommate, who’s taken to eyeing you as though you’ve gone mad. He scoffs, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You’re looking at that thing like you’ve completed the entire paper.”

“Honestly?” You laugh, though it comes out sounding slightly strained. “I’ve got half a mind to submit this introduction alone and just be done with it.”

He narrows his eyes at you, lips thinning, as if trying to figure out how serious you’re being. There’s a beat of silence before he finally responds.

“Don’t."

ii.

While beings can survive in a Withering Zone, the effects are extremely harmful to humans, who require a Vision to simply resist its power. Even brief exposure could cause serious effects…

Withering Zones are initially created as a… Nascent Zone which attracts a small amount of monsters and begins to corrupt the surrounding area…

Something, something, Fetid Boughs… branches… tumors, affect people…

..!

You don’t even realize that you’d fallen asleep until your face collides with the surface of your desk, eyes snapping open in a panic as you frantically peel yourself away from the wood. The entire world feels as though it’s spinning, senses dulled by exhaustion, hands sliding beneath the frames of your glasses ꒰and surely smudging the lenses, though you hardly had it in you to care anymore꒱ before sliding down the length of your face in an exaggeratedly annoyed motion.

The Akademiya was going to be the death of you. 

Annoyingly enough, the information within your stupidly thick textbook seemed just as foreign to you as it had when you’d first sat down for the evening, a simple fact that stranded you somewhere between a mental breakdown and full-blown insanity. The life of an academic truly was far more trouble than it was worth. 

The flame contained within your lantern flickered, almost tauntingly so ꒰though perhaps that was the lack of sleep getting to you꒱, besides you.

At this point, you longed for nothing more than to cast aside your studies for the night, lay down atop your tantalizingly soft mattress, and go to sleep—abandoning your problems and forcing your future self to deal with them in your stead.

As things often are, however, making such a decision would be incredibly troublesome, the scholar responsible for your agony having already declared his intentions of quizzing you the very next morning. An awfully strict man, well in on the years, and he didn’t seem nearly fond enough of you to extend any sympathy towards your plight—something that you ꒰regrettably꒱ couldn’t help but understand, seeing as you’d been given a full week to prepare and foolishly chose to wait until the very night before.

Throwing your head back, you blankly stare up at the ceiling, vision swimming in off-which as you attempt to reel in your concentration. It wasn’t working—though you hardly even expected it to—past instances of your procrastination having left you well aware of the outcome.

You’d stay up all night, reviewing and reviewing and reviewing—as though your life depended on it—pass out an hour or so before you’d have to get up for the day, regret every single one of your life’s choice while rushing out of your room, swear off ever procrastinating again… and then repeat the cycle in a month’s time when the lesson wore off.

The sound of your bedroom’s door creaking open is enough to pull you out of your thoughts, though you make no effort to face the intruder until you register a sharp flick on your exposed forehead. Your body jerks, and you turn towards the Wanderer with a sudden start, about to scold him for the ludicrous amount of strength that he always puts into the gesture before you notice the bowl that he’s placed directly in front of you.

You blink. He says nothing, instead choosing to remove the pen from your hand and slot a spoon into its space, and you reminisce to the time where he’d attempted to teach you to use chopsticks only for you to spill soy sauce all over yourself.

“... Hat Guy?” You murmur, slightly softened ꒰gorgeous꒱ features cringing as the nickname escapes your lips. 

“Call me that again and I’ll eat this myself.”

“Really, you’re no fun at all, Wanderer…” Your tone is lighthearted, mirth within your tone as he rolls his eyes.

He chooses not to respond to that statement, and you choose not to try and stretch out the conversation, instead leaning slightly towards the bowl in order to get a better look at its contents. Shimi Chazuke, his favorite food, as you’ve come to find out, pieces of eel piled atop the rice to an almost shocking degree—considering his habit of hoarding all of it whenever he went through the effort of making the dish.

Seemingly dissatisfied by your hesitance to dig in, he decides to offer some explanation for the gesture. “I made this in order to encourage you, yet it seems as though you won’t even be able to keep your eyes open long enough to properly enjoy it.”

“You did all of that for me?” You ask, brain having already turned to mush and doing absolutely nothing to stop tears from welling up in your eyes—donning a dopey smile as you stare up at him. A flash of red paints his features, and without his hat, he turns away from you to save face.

“... The eel is good for brain function, so you should at least eat that. Perhaps it’ll give you the intellect to curb this foolish habit of yours.” You giggle, and he huffs, the lack of bite within his statement clear to the both of you. “Throw out the rest if you don’t want it. I don’t care.” He does, but you choose not to mention it. 

“And here I was thinking you were going to be fully nice to me.” You tease, taking a bite and savoring the taste. The Wanderer lets out a scoff as the entirety of your body relaxes, though the increased intensity of his blush betrays his true sentiments of the matter. “... Thank you, though. It… It really means a lot.” You continue, trying to be as earnest as you possibly can when you’re a moment’s notice away from collapsing into the bowl.

“Don’t mention it.” He grumbles, lips pressed together, and it’s enough for you to decide that you won’t be following that command. “... And take a break. The human mind isn’t good at processing information while deprived of sleep.”

“Pfft—You say that as if you aren’t a human yourself.”

He pauses at that, and for a split second, his expression shifts into something somber. At least, that’s what you assume, because the very moment that you can comprehend the change within his mood he’s already turning his back towards you and walking out of your room. “... Take a break.”

The door closes before you can respond. And with steam wafting from the bowl, contents still too hot for you to indulge in, your torturous study session is made the slightest bit more tolerable.

iii.

As it turns out, leaving your umbrella within the confines of your home while the sky is violently gray outside was ꒰regardless of the fact that you only had one lecture that particular day꒱ an absolutely terrible idea. Deciding to run through the storm pouring over the Akademiya instead of simply waiting it out was an even more foolish course of action, clothing completely soaked through and body dripping wet by the time you stepped into the safety of your abode.

… In hindsight, you probably should’ve just gone back for the damned thing when you’d noticed Kaveh—notorious for forgetting them—walking around with one in hand. At least then, even if you might’ve been a few minutes late, you wouldn’t be missing a full day of academics in order to recover from the sickness you’d come down with. Nor would you have been placed beneath the Wanderer’s surveillance, your ‘beloved’ roommate having insisted ꒰for some strange reason꒱ on staying home to keep watch on your condition.

It was sweet, at first. Oddly domestic, considering just how emotionally constipated the man is, almost always attempting to convince you that he didn’t care for you in the slightest—even when his actions made it clear that he didn’t think as lowly of you as he insisted.

But by the Archons was he attentive. Too attentive, really, confining you to your bedroom and feeding you medicine so bitter that you’d had to pinch your nose closed in order to keep from gagging. Reminders that his actions were for the sake of your own health did little to reassure you, did nothing to lessen the sting of annoyance that pierced your chest whenever he pushed you back down onto your mattress or pulled your blanket from your shivering form, berating you for making your fever worse despite the chills you felt running through your veins. 

And you, being the stubborn thing that you were, would simply go through the effort in reuniting it with your body, lounging in bliss until he next returned to check in on your condition.

Like right now, for example.

“Would you stop covering yourself already?” There’s a rag in the Wanderer’s hand as he opens the door, a deep scowl tugging down at his lips as he walks over to you—long strides, like he’s in a hurry—before the duvet is unceremoniously stripped away. While he’d previously contented himself with placing it on the other end of the bed, he takes things further this time, mink bunching up between his fingers and pattern distorting as he pulls it away from the bed entirely. You don’t even have the chance to protest before he continues talking.

“Do you even know how hot you are right now?” And if you were in better condition, and if he didn’t already appear to be so irritated with you already, that would've been the perfect opportunity to mess with him. “It’s almost as if you’re trying to die, you know that?”

“Not my fault I feel like I’m freezing.” You retort, knowing full well that it… technically is, pouting as you watch him drop your salvation to the floor, now nothing more than a useless heap. Although there wasn’t anything that was physically retraining you from getting up in order to reclaim it once he was busy doing anything else, the lightheadedness you were experiencing certainly didn’t make the option seem all that appealing. He seemed to realize that, too, placing it in the furthest corner of the room.

Smart, yes, but dreadfully annoying.

“Oh,” his tone is practically dripping with sarcasm as the sound escapes his mouth, “so I should believe the person who looks halfway to the grave?”

“... Maybe?”

He slaps the rag onto your head with a loud smack, wet and cold, a shiver running through your spine as your hands instinctively shoot up to remove the offending object. He catches both of your wrists without so much as a word, barely having to battle your weakened self in order to lower them back down to your sides, grip lingering for a few seconds until he’s entirely certain that you won’t make another attempt to take it off. And perhaps you’ve simply become delusional in your feverish state, but you find yourself missing his touch once he finally moves his hands away.

You’re saved the embarrassment of admitting this, however, when he speaks—pools of indigo scrutinizing your movements as he straightens up.

“The lavender melon soup I’m making is almost done.” He informs you, and your weary mind stews in confusion for a few seconds before remembering that they originate from Inazuma, practically all the way on the other side of Teyvat.

While the abolishment of the Vision Hunt Decree made it possible for merchants to import the fruit, it was still considered a novelty within Sumeru, prices too stupidly high for you to justify the purchase. You frowned, unsure of just how much mora he had to shell out in order to buy them. “... If I come back and see you with that blanket again, it’s not going to be the illness that ends you.”

You laugh at the threat, and he sighs, mumbling an 'I mean it' before retreating into the kitchen. You decide not to test him any further.

… And, apparently decide to find another source of warmth, because you wake up the next morning atop the couch with your fever broken and your face buried in the Wanderer’s chest. There's nobody around to tease the both of you for the compromising position—this time—though you still end up turning up to your classes totally red-faced, mute against the concerned inquiries of your fellow scholars.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[here-comes-the-moose]

Since there are a lot of things that Tech does and says that remind me of my grandfather, and I often will take things my grandfather does or some of his quirks and give them to Tech in my writings or headcanons, I must propose this:

Tech, although yes he does snark and sass and complain about things, is really rather calm and mild-mannered, but all of that chill goes out the window the SECOND someone disrespects or is rude to his wife Phee.

[creepsterdreams]

"Lullaby" Kuras x pregnant!gn!MC mini series

Link to part 2!

Part 3

Summary: After coming to Eridia to hopefully find a way to rid of your curse and hide your pregnancy, you meet a very sassy doctor who’s set on protecting you and your unborn child

Content warnings:  Leander being protective, mentions of vomiting, MC having weird ass cravings, a smidge of violence , MC being kinda horny for Kuras

Word count: 2.2k

MC is almost two months into pregnancy here, so the baby bump is now impossible to hide 

Author’s note: Here MC already met Ais, Vere, and Mhin, I apologize but I didn’t feel like writing separate introductions T^T also this chapter is kinda uneventful 

After getting settled at the Wet Wick and wondering about Eridia for some time, you were able to meet some other colorful faces, courtesy of Leander having everyone sit at the bar and drink what you can only guess is one of his concoctions. 

You had Vere who was honestly terrifying to interact with, everytime you looked at him it was hard to tell if his stare was of curiosity or hunger. 

Then there was Ais who’s Vere’s friend with benefits, he was nice to say, but with his kindness also came his sass and snark, which was not good on your rising mood swings. 

And finally there was Mhin, a close “friend” of Kuras who often took jobs from Leander hunting Soulless. Out of everyone they seemed like the one who didn’t want to be there the most, but a part of you was assuming they were only tolerant to you because Kuras is. 

But although they did all seem somewhat okay, your biggest concern was would they be safe with your secret. Upon meeting them, it took almost begging to convince Leander not to say anything, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. But then again, you had a feeling in the back of your mind that they already knew, whether it was due to the excessive bagginess of your clothes or really good guessing. 

Vere knew almost immediately, allowing you to believe that you somehow escaped his heightened senses only to smirk and utter “Goodnight, both of you.” Upon his exit. 

You truly cannot hide anything from him. 

But other than that entire charade, you were…okay. 

Rarely have you ever experienced genuine peace in your life. Always running around completing heists or planning the next one. This was a foreign feeling to you and it felt odd to say the least. 

Which leads you to your current position, sitting on the table in Kuras’s clinic as he rests his hands on your bare stomach, assumingly checking on your fetus. 

At first you were admittedly a bit awkward to strip your shirt off in front of him, even if he had already seen you naked before, but now that you were actually awake to witness it, the embarrassment of the situation had finally set in. 

After a while, Kuras removed his hands from your stomach, his eyes opening before he walked towards another table and grabbed a clipboard to write some things down. For the majority of the check up his eyes were closed, and his hands projected an odd warmth onto you, and although you didn’t know exactly what he was doing, you assumed this was just a strange method of sensing for the baby. 

But Kuras suddenly speaking up quickly pulled you out of your thoughts. “Everything appears to be fine, I haven’t found anything that’s worth worrying for.” His back is still turned to you as he carries on. “Although I can recommend that you do try and rest more, I know you are aware that putting stress on the body is dangerous for both of you.”

You shrug your shoulders and lean back more as you softly rest a bandaged hand on your middle. “I can’t make any promises, I am trying to get rid of this…thing” Your voice unconsciously trails off at the end, looking down at the floor below you as you listen to his humming, taking in your response. 

“Then you will simply have to find a way to balance the two.” He finishes writing and sets down the clipboard before stepping forward once more, grabbing something before turning back to you and coming towards the table. And once you were able to see his front again, what you realized he was holding came to your surprise. 

“A stuffed bear? What’s that for?” You ask with genuine curiosity. He reacts by softly chuckling and taking your hand, placing the stuffed animal in your grasp before stepping back. 

“Mhin brought it here. Said that at least with it the child could have some joy despite the circumstances.” 

You automatically raised an eyebrow, questions floating throughout your mind, all wondering almost the same thing. Mainly why did Mhin of all people give it to you, from what little information you have on them, it seemed like they hated people all together. Also, where did they get it from? This bear is oddly nice looking considering you’ve always seen Mhin in the alleyways of Lowtown or at the Wet Wick. 

But the biggest question should be, how did they even figure out you were pregnant?

“Are you sure it was Mhin and not some shapeshifter?” You said while glancing between him and the bear, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Kuras chuckles at your words, covering his mouth to hide a light smile. “Well if it was I doubt that a shapeshifter would be kind enough to bring you a stuffed animal.” 

Well he is right about that. 

You take a long look at the bear again, before slowly reaching your hand up and grabbing it, taking a moment to softly rub its fur, smiling at the feeling. You then put the bear in your bag, deciding to keep it with you until you return to the wet wick. After closing it back up, you turn back to Kuras. 

“So, how did Mhin know I’m….you know.” 

Kuras reacts with a slightly raised brow. “They are quite skilled at reading others' body language. They must’ve noticed you constantly trying to hide your stomach.”

You were honestly starting to reconsider your stealth skills if already four people were able to find out your “little” secret without ever telling them. 

After Kuras was done talking, you sighed and leaned back again, mind drifting off to wondering what you can eat once leaving the clinic. Everything honestly sounded really good. Maybe you can convince Leander that pickles and chocolate dip are amazing together so he’ll bring you some. 

“MC?” Kuras’s concerned tone suddenly rang through your ears, bringing you back down to earth. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I was just thinking about some stuff.” You say awkwardly as you gather your things. “I’m gonna head back now, I’m sure you have thousands of other patients to take care of.” 

Kuras sends you a gentle smile, reaching to place his hand on your shoulder. “You're always welcome here, you're my most interesting patient for a reason.”  

This makes you smile as well, taking in the attention he’s giving you. And for a moment, you can feel yourself wanting more of it, and you wouldn’t mind receiving a different kind of attention if he was the one giving it. 

But before your mind can drift off, you quickly shake your head, deciding to focus your mind on leaving instead, making your way to the busy road and blending in with the never-ending crowd.

Gods, I just met the man I can’t already be thinking about him that way!

You clutch the ends of your shirt tightly, guilt beginning to set in wondering what Kuras would think of you lusting after him despite only knowing each other for a few weeks. 

Eventually you catch sight of the Wet Wick, watching as patrons walk in and out of the stone building, some obviously drunk out of their minds. Walking closer, you suddenly hear the sound of what seemed to be fighting from the alleyway. 

Upon reaching it, you're met with what appeared to be Ais fighting some tough looking guys that were at the bar. You watch as Ais lands a punch against once, blood spilling from his knows as he passes out automatically. But just as Ais whips around to handle the other three, they all scramble away, obviously underestimating his brute strength. This result only made him groan and roll back his neck, irritated that they weren’t willing to put up a fight. 

But your staring must’ve caught his attention, because by the time you're no longer zoned out, he’s right in front of you, grinning at your dazed expression. 

“See something you like sparrow?” 

You stumble a bit for a moment, jumping at the rasp in his voice that’s probably from fighting. “What are you doing out here? Did you start something there again?”

His grin widens even more, giving you the answer right away. “So what if I did?” 

You only roll your eyes in response, not wanting to give into his antics today. But before you could walk away, he suddenly leaned down towards your stomach, becoming eye level with it. “How’s that bun in the oven?”

Your eyes go big, quickly covering your stomach and turning away from him. “How did…how did you find out?!”

Ais puts his hands up, backing away from you, showing that he is innocent in the situation. “I mean…did you seriously expect to hide that from me for too long? You think too little of me sparrow.”

Hearing that, you put your guard down, acknowledging that he was right. The farther you got as the trimesters went on, the more obvious the symptoms became. Your growing stomach being the biggest one. You uncover your middle, instead choosing to rest them directly underneath it. 

“They're fine, nothing to worry about. Kuras is just on me about taking it easy.”

This gives Ais the chance to come close again, leaning down once more. He pokes a finger at your stomach, wagging it tauntingly. “You be good for [preferred parent’s name] in there. Can’t have them any more grouchy than they already are.”

This causes you to gasp dramatically, punching Ais softly on the shoulder which makes him snicker at your actions. He stands up back to his full height, crossing his arms as he playfully stares you down, but before you could come up with a bold response, Leander suddenly bust through the door, surprising the both of you. His eyes switch between you and Ais, obviously wondering what you two were doing out here together.

Alone at that.

But then his expression returns back to his normal, welcoming smile. “Heyy MC, I was wondering when you would come back, I got the barkeep to save you some leftovers if you're hungry.”

Your eyes automatically begin to sparkle upon hearing the word “leftovers”. Leftovers means food, leftovers means you don’t have to worry about finding something to eat yourself. 

You quickly thank him and rush past him to get to the bar, racing to thank the barkeep and grab whatever you could possibly get your hands on. Leander laughs at your antics before turning back to Ais, his smile not dropping, but wavering a bit. 

Ais only gives him the middle finger, his grin only turning mischievous, which makes Leander scowl before all but slamming the door on him. 

After returning to the bar, Leander is greeted with you eating some meat and vegetables with haste, with a pint of water on the side to the plate, and a smaller plate with a pastry on the other side, obviously for dessert. The sight alone is enough for Leander to smile again, shaking his head. 

“Cute” He thinks to himself.

He walks over, sitting down on the stool next to you while taking a chance to glance over the crowd scattered across the area. “Sooo…what were you doing with Ais?”

You pause eating, a hot piece of meat resting on the fork you were holding now inches away from your mouth. You put it down before picking up your water and taking some heavy sips and wiping your mouth. “I saw him fighting some guys out back, I thought he was screwed since he was outnumbered but the other ones ran away. Then we ended up just..talking a bit.”

Leander hums in acknowledgement, taking in your words as you go back to scarfing down your food. Once he comes back from his thoughts he then puts a hand on your arm. “Hey hey slow down, I don't want you getting sick later and vomiting all over the floor again.” 

Hearing that, you pause again before resuming eating, this time, going at a slower pace. Leander smiles once more, knowing that you listened to him, but after signaling to the barkeep that he wanted a drink, he returned back to you.

“Listen, be careful around him. I know he doesn’t seem dangerous, but the last thing I want is for you to become one of his…pets, alright? Just don’t go too close to the seaspring.”

You back at him with a conflicted expression, and after swallowing what was left of your food you spoke up. “I can handle myself. I’ll be okay Leander.”

He nods in response, keeping his hand resting on your arm before sliding it up to your shoulder. “I just want to make sure you're okay. That you both are okay in fact. Just trust me, okay?” He finally removes his hand from you after this, turning around fully and leaning back against the bars counters while sipping on his drink. 

You stare at him for a few more seconds, processing what he had said. Ais wouldn’t possibly do anything to hurt you and the baby, right?

And as you ponder on it for some time while starting to take soft bites from your pastry, your mind eventually begins wondering right back to the doctor you had seen only some time ago. 

I wonder what Kuras is up to?

Author’s note: At first when Ais flipped off Leander I wanted to make him mouth “fuck you” in response but that felt a little out of character at the time so I changed it to just him looking disgusted lol.

Also, I’m so sorry this took so long to post, I was having trouble coming up with what I wanted to do for this so I left it alone for a bit, hope you all enjoy!

[bunny-jpeg]

could i get a lewis hamilton fic - lemon slice and coffee please! i love your writing

bakery menu

if you want to request your own order! feel free, the bakery is still open! as for this request, i didn't get a lot of lewis suggestions so i'd love more in the future! thank you for submitting!

lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + coffee (rivals)

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, driver!reader, snark & sass, hate sex, protected sex,

you bounced on the balls of your feet as you waited to get the go ahead to get into the car to start the free practice. it eventually turned into you swinging your arms back and forth. it was a concerted effort to keep yourself calm before the official start of race weekend.

"you definitely don't seem nervous." you heard behind you. you looked over and saw lewis, passing by. you huffed through your nose and we back to what he was doing.

in the two years since you joined the formula one roster, the one driver you seemed to have the most beef with was lewis hamilton. the equivalent to a driving god, but you wanted to step on the toes of god.

"nothing to say back to me?" he asked.

you looked over and clenched onto your helmet tighter, "oh, i didn't even hear what you said, hamilton. i'm more nervous for you than me." you shrugged and turned back to facing forward.

you heard his footsteps and he leaned in to your ear, "i didn't know you had such strong feelings for me. i'm honoured."

you turned around and ended up face to face with him. you wanted to grip onto the front of his driving suit, but there were too many cameras and even more pairs of eyes. you replied, "don't conflate my worry about you making it to qualifiers to me actually liking you hamilton." and gave him a smile.

he raised his eyebrows at you, "right, right. you're too busy chasing the coat tails of your teammate. you know, he's not going to sleep with you. no matter how many times you're the crash course dummy for red bull."

your jaw tensed, "you're going to have to start winning, lewis because those trophies from what, five years ago, are getting a dusty."

he nodded, "well at least my trophy case is full. you know you shouldn't really show off participation trophies." he made a face. he patted you on the shoulder, "but i guess you take pride in always being second best compared to verstappen. and that's an honorable thing."

you scowled at him. his pats on your shoulder felt patronizing, you felt an anger run through you. you muttered two words to him, "room eight-o-five." and looked at him, "knock three times, password is stallion." then you turned away as you heard you mechanic team call for you.

lewis smiled at your backside as you walked away.

-

the evening after free practice, lewis had you pinned against the back of the door to your hotel room. your hands were on the overpriced shirt he wore.

"i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." he said about your moans while you kissed.

you made a face at him. you gripped onto his shirt tighter in retaliation.

"i could get you a deal if you like it so much." he said, noticing how tightly you were holding the fabric, "i'm sure you'd actually look pretty in something that cost more than 5 pounds."

you leaned up into him, your forehead against his, "funny guy, hamilton, eh?" you could feel the boil from earlier return.

he chuckled and almost went in to kiss you once more, "i like when you're mad. gets me riled up. the only fun part of this rivalry. did you know that they think we're dating."

you pressed a kiss on his lips once more before you pulled away, your arms draped around his shoulders, you replied, "i'd think they were stupid. but your idiot friends don't know what a private instagram is." you had seen the photos, the evidence that made it all appear that you and him were more than just bickering drivers.

the main "evidence" was when in a now vanished instagram story, you were getting settled in your hotel room after a night of drinking. you had the covers pulled up to your chin with a phone camera in your face and lewis beside you, trying to get the covers off of you. he was very drunk as well. "ah c'mon, i deserve one kiss! one kiss!" he laughed and your face was all scrunched up as you threatened to bury yourself further under the covers.

the fans went crazy for that. now there was a conspiracy! but little did the folks online know.

his hands went under your shirt, he got it off of you soon enough. you tossed it to the side. you knew he was going to make a comment about how you'd look better in mercedes colours, but you shut those comments down with a searing kiss.

you both ended up in the bedroom, lewis noticed that you had an unopened box of condoms on the night stand. he said, "having guests over later."

you sighed, "yeah, i finally got with max." lewis stilled, stopping dead in his tracks towards the bed. his forehead wrinkled for a moment before you started laughing. you added, "oh my god, hamilton. you jealous fuck."

he got out of your grasp on your hand and said, "hey, we're already compared too much. i don't need him butting in on my rival."

"aw, worried about me, lewis? how sweet. i just thought you'd be worried that he would make me cum faster." you gave him a sweet smile before you took the rest of your clothes off.

when your ass was bare and you were turned to him, he winded back his hand and laid a harsh smack across your ass. he then wrapped an arm around you middle and kissed the nape of your neck, "oh, i'm not worried. because if you can't make yourself cum as fast as i can make you cum. max doesn't stand a chance." his voice was laced with lust. he then pulled away and started to undress.

maybe it was whorish of you to sleep with your rival. the one who you often butted heads with on the track. maybe if the press found out, then it would make any future female drivers look back. but as you got on the bed with lewis, you tossing a condom at him, it didn't matter.

you wanted him and he wanted you, with the hotel room door closed and locked the rest of the world was locked out of the sexual fiasco of your evening.

lewis watched you get on your hands and knees. you wiggled your ass to him to entice him. he laughed and got the condom on before he threw the packet off the bed to be dealt with later.

he wanted to tell you that you looked good. and you wanted to say the same in return. but the words couldn't come out. not while you two were still in this tango.

it was a game of chicken and the two of you were painfully stubborn.

he held onto your hip and his cock, and inched his length into you. it was a euphoria, a firework that went off in the back of his head. he wouldn't admit, but you sort of ruined other women for him. since this started, neither of you had been seeing other people.

"i'm starting to think you like me." he said.

you clutched onto the covers, "i think you're seeing things, hamilton. this is just a mutual agreement, nothing more."

lewis knew you were lying. it was obvious. the almost routine of the snapping of teeth that eventually turned into a tussle in the sheets had far beyond moved from a simple fuck.

you were invested, as was he.

once again, the game of chicken between two rivals.

he thrusted against you. his hips against your ass as he fucked you. there was little romance in his movements. it was something deep inside of him, you were both chasing a sexual high. your noises mixed with his as the two of you panted.

"fuck, lewis." you moaned. you could feel his cock in the back of your throat with how hard he was thrusting. it rarely ever went slow between you two. it was like sparks, burned hot but didn't last long. you held onto the pillow under your head as your back arched.

"i know, i know." he panted, "you feel so good like this. on your knees, you look better like this than a in a car honestly. i hate to admit it, but you're quite pretty."

you felt a compliment dance on your tongue, but you didn't say munch. while it was tempting, the pleasure strangled the words out of your mouth. you whimpered when you felt his cock nudge against your most sensitive parts.

he chuckled, he knew he left you speechless. but that was alright, all he needed to hear was your sweet little moans. both of his wide hands on your hips using a grip that only was made by being a formula one driver. he hunched over you, admiring your backside.

you were painfully pretty, you could have anyone on the grid. but lewis knew that you'd always come back to him. not even the likes of verstappen could compete with him.

"lewis." you panted as you felt the pleasure course through your body. you felt hot all over and your head felt hazy.

"shit." he panted, "fuck. c'mon."

you moaned and clawed at the bed under you. your back arched and you came around his cock. this only further him thrusting you, making sure you were taking his cock to the root. the bed squeaked some more and heavy panting filled the air.

"that's a good little driver. keeping the real pros nice and happy."

you lifted your head, your mouth open as you panted. eventually you said, "fuck you, hamilton."

"no, no. but i'll fuck you." he said as he slammed his cock as deep as it would go and finished inside of you. the condom was your saving grace. he soon pulled out of your pussy and rested on his heels for a moment. he dragged his hand across his neck and forehead to wipe the sweat off of it. he honestly should consider having sex with you as part of his work-out schedule.

but he was certain if he 'booked time' to have sex with you, you'd probably chew him out. you weren't a schedule to meet, a requirement. you were his rival... with benefits. but those benefits weren't clocking in and clocking out.

"c'mere." your voice cut through. you then pulled him up to the pillows and laid there next to him. he draped an arm around you waist and closed his eyes for a moment. you trailed a finger across his brown and down his nose, then down his cheek and across his jaw.

"ugh." you said.

he opened his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes looked to you, "what now?" he seemed like he was pretty relaxed after your round together.

"i was about to give you a compliment."

he smiled and pulled himself closer to you. the both of you still naked. he hadn't even taken the condom off. he said, "do tell."

you made a face and shook your head, "nope. i feel like if your ego gets any bigger you'll fly away." some habits died hard.

he tightened his grip on your waist and pressed his forehead to his for a moment before his coaxed you, "tell me. i'll keep it a secret. promise."

you sighed, it was painful to admit. to give you bigger rival a compliment after he made you cum. you held his face and looked into his eyes, "i get why they love taking photos of you in those overpriced outfits."

he raised his eyebrows, "that was your compliment?"

you replied before you leaned in to him, "maybe if you make me cum twice next time, i'll even admit how you're a decent driver or that i understand why others would hold you in such high regard."

he laughed, "next time, huh? i'm guessing after qualifier."

you smiled back at him, "you know it." <3

[iamnotadumbdonut]

some observations about the changes in Percy's personality in the chalice of the gods because im a fucking dumb fuck

if you've read chalice of the gods, (and if you haven't then just go and read it PLZ), it's pretty obvious that Percy's personality has become more "bby girl" sassy than his original "angsty skater boi" sassy. now i know I'm probably making excuses for rick's writing still, which changed considerably after writing 5 whole books from apollo's perspective, who is the canon bby girl btw, but some of his sass has transferred into Percy's personality. this could also be because of the natural change in Percy tho. for starters, he's growing up now. leaving the angsty angry teen years behind. obviously, his emotions are more in control. in chalice of the gods, it is indirectly stated he keeps his cool more than he did before. in the tower of Nero, he seems more amiable than he ever was, which just proves my boi has become a well rounded individual on the way to adulthood who has learnt to not be angry and childish. good for him.

another reason he's a lot happier than before, and i could be wrong, but i most definitely am not, is that Percy was pretty angry and snarky before he went into Tartarus, right up till MoA. and boom, in house of hades, he falls into Tartarus, gets hella traumatized, broken af and just fucking destroyed, and then he enters the mortal world again, all sappy and shit. most people think that he's all happy and so he's dumbed down in the blood of olympus in order to raise all the others to the pedestal, but isn't that how anyone will react after going to hell and back??? sure he was dark and all scary at first, but when that boy healed (almost completely, after all PTSD never really leaves you ) he was just so full of joy. because that's the rational way to go about it. compared to all the shit in Tartarus, any problem in the world was next to fucking NOTHING. no problem was too big because he has been to literal hell, and hence all his anger has died down and is just a little spark now, and so just pointing it out old Percy= snark/ impertinence (close enough eh) Percy in Tartarus= fucking broken lmao new Percy= lost most of his anger, a lot happier, nothing else. and hence a new equation is formed snark-anger=sass so now all that's left is sass it's also given in the dictionary that while sass is just playfully feisty, snark is supposed to rude. that's all. Percy hasn't been dumbed down. he's just happier and more carefree (again pointing out, not the same as careless, which Percy was before) wait wait wait yes

old Percy= careless new Percy=carefree careless + more responsible + more considerate - anxious =carefree

boom bitches im the psychological mathematician. ciao muahahhhhaahahaha