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#I wish everyone knew how simple these are
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Second Chapter “Ribs” is available now!
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King!Sukuna Ryomen x Servant!Reader
Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. You are an ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.
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Sukuna doesn’t understand how humans work. He just knows that they are disgusting animals that should be killed to be eaten once they become useless. Humans have emotions and problems that he doesn’t understand, like why feel alone when you can just kidnap a woman? Or, why starve if you can kill another man to steal their food? Such simple solutions to first world problems. Humans were a weird specimen in Sukuna’s eyes.  
Sukuna had a lot of servants that served him day and night. He handles them as toys that he can replace if they break. He humiliates, assaults and kills them for sport. The servants, unable to defend themselves against the giant threat they serve, can only keep quiet and obey him to survive in the horrible conditions they work in. The weak humans hate him and wish for death to come soon for him. His dreams and hopes for life have been replaced. 
Everyone knew you were Sukuna’s favorite, but he didn’t know yet. He really believes that you are the only servant who can do things right without complaining. He could do whatever he wanted with you, knowing full well that you would do nothing to stop him. You're just a loyal servant, nothing more. He could ask you to sweep the shade of the sun, clean the castle roof or kiss his feet, and you would do it without complaint. You were a good servant, and he knew it perfectly.
It was another cold night at the dark temple. Like every night, the dining room and kitchen were in chaos. Dinner was being prepared by the various cooks operating the large kitchen. Hot pans, grills on high heat and various smells permeated the tense atmosphere. Uraume paraded between the aisles, making sure everyone was doing their job properly. As head chef, he could allow no margin for error. Especially knowing his majesty's picky palate. They would taste the sweet and sour sauces, the fine cuts of meat and the drinks to make sure no cook wanted to poison his master. 
Servants ran around the dining room to get everything ready before the king came down to eat. The long table decorated with a large black tablecloth with elegant embroidery was accompanied by the fine porcelain plates with gold rims. You found yourself placing the last of the silverware in the correct order and perfectly symmetrical as the king likes. As the servants began to feel the heavy footsteps under their feet, they hurried to put the finishing touches on the table and ran to the walls to stand in formation. Their backs pressed against the wall, arms at their sides and always facing forward, avoiding eye contact. 
Sukuna entered the room and everybody bowed to him. He paraded through the room and stopped in front of you. Everyone panicked with their eyes since this was the first time he did something like that. While he was inspecting you from head to toe, you felt your heart sink. You didn’t know what you had done to deserve his attention. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked yourself while sweating cold. Your legs were trembling, and you were about to pee yourself. 
Sukuna looked at you with a mischievous smile. He likes making you nervous and shy. You looked so cute trying so hard not to make eye contact with him. Size wise, you looked petite by his side. He could easily squeeze you to death with one hand, but he rather has you around so you could treat him with nice massages. The reason he stopped with you was because he knew you were a hard worker around his temple, and today, he felt generous enough to reward you. 
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jeankluv · 3 days
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Birdie - Satoru Gojo | Chapter 11
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words: 4,1k
summary: While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as " hate " was a strong word, rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.
Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.
ac: _3aem
tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball, Gojo needs a hug
notes: I know I said I was not posting chapter till next week but I think we all need a bit of Gojo serotonin after jjk chapter 261.
materialist | previous chapter | next chapter
Birdie playlist | ao3 | Pinterest
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You felt like your heart skipped a beat or maybe it was a few. Grabbing your drink you gave a big shot to it, wanting it to take away the fear and nervousness that was starting to grow within you. Fuck it. You shouldn’t have asked that question. You shouldn’t.
“Birdie…” Satoru spoke. 
It was true, while you were dealing with a crisis, Satoru was still there, with his gaze completely on you. Those blue eyes always seem to be looking at you and only you. Even when the room was full of people, those blue eyes were on you. 
“I need fresh air.” You stood up and felt how you almost fell due to the drinks.
“Careful.” Satoru grabbed your arm and held you steady. “I will go with you.” 
“Yeah sure…” You tried to smile. 
The entire way you walked out, Satoru didn't let go of your arm not for a single moment. He held you with the greatest gentleness in the world, afraid that you were going to break. When you went outside again, you once again felt the cold of the night hit your body and you shivered a little. 
You no longer cared about meeting Naoya, you were with Satoru and that gave you security, but you doubted that after how Yuki had left him he would still be around. 
You approached some stairs and sat on them, with Satoru standing in front of you. Your leg started to move up and down, nervously, still processing Satoru’s words. You could feel your head spinning a little bit with the simple thought of Satoru’s confession.
When you asked him that question, you expected him to drink not to receive an answer. How should you react to that? 
Satoru Gojo wanted to kiss, well, he would kiss you sober. It was the same right? 
Why were you so nervous?
You looked up, only to be met with Satoru’s gaze looking at you. Those eyes, that gaze. A gaze you couldn’t understand. Or rather, a gaze that you didn't want to understand.
Satoru looked at you countless times with that gaze, with eyes that you couldn't describe. You couldn’t describe it because it was a gaze you never saw before.
It hit you at that exact moment, on that spring cold night, everything started to make sense. 
Satoru liked you. 
And you... and you... You did feel something for him and if you had taken that step earlier, you would have proven one hundred percent that your heart felt something for Satoru Gojo.
Were you in love? You didn't know, you had never experienced love as such, but you had strong feelings for him, that for sure was something.
Feelings for Satoru Gojo.
You chuckled at the mere thought of it. Who would have thought that you could feel something for the person who was now in front of you looking at you with that look, which, no matter how much you didn't want it, made your heart beat faster.
“Listen birdie.” Satoru finally spoke. “What I said at the club… I don’t want to put pressure on you, alright?” You didn’t say a word. “Just ignore it and act as if I didn’t say anything.”
“You want me?” You asked him.
“I want you to what?”
“You really want me to ignore it?” You faced him.
“Honestly?” You nodded. “No, I don’t want you to ignore it. But you don’t… god birdie, I don’t want you to forget the answer to that question but I also don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable with something you probably don’t feel the same way.”
“How… how do you know that?” You pressed your hands against your knees and looked at Satoru through your eyelashes.
“Birdie…” He lightly laughed. “You are drunk, you don’t know what…”
“They say that drunk people always say the truth.” You looked up at him.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, the intensity reaching the depths of your emotions, making your head vibrate anticipation. Satoru opened and closed his mouth, as if he was searching for the right words to say next. You were aware of your intoxication, another sip would sink you deeper into this haze. Despite how cloudy your thoughts were, you didn't regret the honesty that was flowing from your lips.
In the heavy silence that was formed between both of you, you could practically hear your heart pounding against your chest, the anticipation being palpable in the air.
Satoru's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of uncertainty. "I... I care about you, more than I can express in words." He admitted, his voice being only a whisper.
Your breath was caught in your throat and for a single moment you swore your heart stopped beating. The weight of his words sank as you searched in his eyes for any sign of deception. But all you found was honesty, raw and unfiltered, making you feel exposed and vulnerable under his blue eyes.
"I do not know what to say." You confessed, the words coming out before you could stop them.
Satoru reached out, his hand finding yours, his touch sending an electric shock through your body. "You do not have to say anything." He murmured, his thumb gently brushing your skin.
"I can't just ignore it." You insisted, your voice tinged with desperation, making you almost breathless.
Satoru's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze fixed on you. "I understand." He murmured, his tone soft but determined. “But perhaps now is not the best time to broach it.”
"How...how do you know?" You pressed, your voice barely more than a whisper.
"Because." Satoru began, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continued. “Because you're not thinking clearly right now. And I don't want to say something that could complicate things between us even more.”
A mix of emotions swirling inside you. Despite the fog of intoxication clouding your mind, you couldn't deny what he was saying. But at the same time, the raw honesty of the moment urged you to confront the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.
“I just…need to know.” You admitted, your voice shaking with uncertainty.
Satoru Gojo POV
When Satoru looked away from your tired eyes, he felt a pang of longing. He couldn't ignore the fact that you had both been drinking, clouding your judgments. Your flushed cheeks and the small pout on your lips only intensified his internal struggle. Despite the pull of desire, he knew that giving in now would do neither of you any favors.
"I..." Satoru hesitated, his voice soft but firm. "I think we should wait." He finally managed to say, his gaze meeting yours again, full of sincerity. He reached out to gently brush his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender but hesitant. "I want this." He confessed, his voice tinged with longing. “But not like this. Not when alcohol is in our way.”
In that moment, Satoru hoped you would understand his words, his desire to wait for the right moment. He watched you slowly nod and look back at your feet.
Kneeling down to your height, he called you again by the now familiar nickname he had given you. “Birdie, look at me…” You did it. “When you are completely sober, ask me the same question again.” His heart was pounding heavily. “My answer will be the same again.”
“I will…” You responded. 
“I hope so.” He smiled and stood back up. “But princess, I think it’s time for you to go back home.” 
You blinked a few times. “It's still early.” You said almost in a whisper. 
“And you're about to fall asleep.” Satoru said. “Let's take a taxi and I'll take you home.”
“What about Kyoko and the rest?” You tried to stand but failed as you felt your legs being tired.
“Let’s go and tell them, we are leaving.” He said grabbing you from the waist.
Satoru felt his being trembling as he surrounded your hip, it was a gesture that was too close and too intimate, but it felt good. Together you returned inside the club, where Satoru quickly saw his best friend and of course, Kyoko.
“Hey!” He said approaching both of them.
Suguru and Kyoko exchanged knowing glances as they took in the scene before them, the undeniable closeness between you and Satoru. Suguru's lips curved into a knowing smile, while Kyoko's expression softened with understanding.
"Well, well, looks like someone had a good time." Suguru joked, his tone full of amusement.
You and Satoru shared a shy look. Satoru's arm remained firmly wrapped around your waist, as you leaned into his side with a feeling of familiarity and comfort.
"It seems so." Kyoko chimed in with a warm smile. "You two look..."
Satoru tried to hide the smile that was threatening to break out. “It's not like that…” He said. “Birdie is tired, I'll take her home, okay?”
Kyoko looked at her best friend. “Do you want me to go with you?”
You shook your head. "It's okay, I trust Satoru." Those words filled Satoru's heart with joy. “I'll write you a message when I arrive, okay?”
Kyoko nodded and then looked from her to Satoru. “Be careful Gojo.”
“I will.” He said, making a small nod with his head. “Let’s go?” 
As the two of you walked outside the club, to wait for a taxi, Satoru couldn't help the warmth that spread through him at the sight of you leaning on his arm. Despite the haze of alcohol, your trust in him was palpable and he couldn't help but feel a flutter of hope in his chest.
He looked at you, the soft glow of the streetlights casting a soft illumination on your features. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than for time to stop, for that moment of closeness to freeze, to savor the intimacy shared between you.
When the taxi stopped in front of you, Satoru gently guided you inside, his heart pounding heavy on his chest. The drive home passed in a blur, the silence between you filled with words stuck in your throat.
When you reached your destination, Satoru got out first and extended a hand to help you out of the taxi. The cool night air enveloped them both, but the warmth of Satoru's touch remained.
"Thank you for everything, Satoru." You murmured, your voice almost as a whisper.
He smiled, his cheeks staining a light blush at your words. “Anytime, birdie.”
Turning on your heel, you begin walking towards the door. As you stumbled, almost falling, Satoru's reflexes kicked in and he reached out to steady you. His touch was gentle but firm, his concern evident in the way he held you.
"Wow, birdie," he said, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"
You acknowledged, grateful for his quick intervention. But as you tried to regain your balance, he realized how shaky your legs were and the effects of the alcohol were taking their toll.
"Satoru." You began, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Could you…could you walk me to my room?”
Satoru's hesitation was palpable, his brow furrowed in uncertainty. The thought of being alone with you, so close, felt a rush of mixed emotions through him.
"I... I don't know, birdie." He replied, his voice shaking slightly. “Maybe it's best if you rest here for a while, I will stay with….”
But you shook your head, determination shining in your eyes. "Please, Satoru. I don't want to be alone."
His resolve faltered at the sincerity of his plea and, with a sigh of resignation, he relented. "Okay, birdie. I'll take you to your room."
With Satoru's arm wrapped around you protectively, you headed to your room, each step feeling heavier than the last. When you reached your destination, you turned to him with a grateful smile and a heart full of appreciation for his kindness.
"Thank you, Satoru." You said softly, your voice filled with warmth.
He smiled back at you, a hint of uncertainty lingering in his gaze. "Just promise me you'll get some rest, okay?"
As Satoru stood at the door, watching you, he couldn't help the uneasy feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. The vulnerability of the situation weighed heavily on him, his mind racing with thoughts of what could go wrong.
But as he looked at you, with your tired eyes and slumped shoulders, he knew that he couldn't leave. With a sigh of resignation, he stepped further into the room.
"If you don't mind, I'll stay with you for a while." He said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You nodded, a feeling of relief washing over you at his words. "I don't mind, Satoru. I trust you."
Taking a seat next to you on the bed. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound being the steady rhythm of your breathing.
As the minutes passed, the tension in the air began to dissipate. Satoru's gaze softened as he realized that you had fallen into a dream. He smiled to himself and with trembling hands caressed your cheek.
“Rest well birdie.” He whispered to your ear, leaving a soft kiss on your lobe.
It was then that Satoru realized that you were moving your lips, whispering something. Satoru's heart skipped a beat and his breath caught as he understood the words coming out of your mouth. For a moment, he was stunned into silence.
"What do you hate, birdie?" He asked softly, his voice full of tenderness and concern.
"That I like you." You mumbled, your words barely audible in the silence of the room.
His heart clenched at the raw vulnerability of your confession. Satoru felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of hope and possibility that he couldn't ignore.
Gently, he reached out and his hand found yours in the darkness. "Birdie..." He whispered, his voice full of sincerity. "You don't have to hate it. Because I… feel the same way about you.”
Satoru knew that you would not remember those words and if you did you would believe that they were a figment of your imagination. 
Satoru watched you sleep and released his grip of your hands. He lightly left your room and leaned against the door, feeling his entire being burn and his heart beat strongly in his heart. 
You also reciprocated his feelings. But he should not rush, he should take it calmly, so as not to complicate anything that could happen between you.
Your pov
As you sat on your bed, dealing with the remnants of fog from the night before. The first thought that popped into your mind was a mental note to avoid drinking so much in the future.
The second thought that came to your mind was, your feelings for Satoru Gojo. You liked him more than you had ever admitted before, and the weight of that revelation washed over you with a mix of excitement and fear.
Searching through the mixed memories of the previous night, you struggled to remember the conversation you had shared with Satoru outside the club. The details were confusing, like trying to solve a puzzle with more than 1,000 pieces scattered everywhere.
A blush crept across your cheeks as you replayed the scenes in your mind, piecing together the puzzle. Satoru had confessed that he would kiss you sober, a confession that caused a flutter of anticipation in your chest. And you had hinted that you wanted the same.
You shook your head and lay back down on the bed, trying to drown out the screams building in your throat. The thought of calling Satoru crossed your head, but your heart fluttered every time you wanted to reach your phone out. The best thing would be to wait until tomorrow and talk about it tomorrow. That was the right thing to do, to talk about it in person. 
You heard the front door opening and voices entering the house. With light steps you approached the voices and saw that it was Kyoko and Suguru, with a smile playing on your lips you approached them.
"Kyoko." You greeted them, your voice tinged with amusement.
Kyoko's surprise was evident when she turned to you. "I thought you were going to be sleeping." She commented.
"I just woke up." You responded with a shrug, your gaze flickering between Kyoko and Suguru. “And it looks like someone had fun last night.”
Kyoko's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at your teasing comment, and she quickly shot you a playful glance. "Be quiet." She murmured, a hint of embarrassment coloring her words. "And you? Did you have fun with Satoru?"
The mention of Satoru's name sent a wave of warmth to your cheeks, and you were left speechless. With a nervous laugh, you looked away, hoping you were able to hide the blush that spread across your face.
“I…um.” You stuttered, your voice betraying your nervous state. “Ugh hush.” Kyoko's knowing smile only served to deepen your embarrassment.
“Well girls, I will take my leave.” Suguru said. “Love you.” He whispered against Kyoko’s lips.
“Love you too.” And they both kissed. 
You looked away embarrassed from the intimacy of the moment. Suguru waved goodbye at both of you getting on his car and driving away from your house.
“So…” You began. 
“Yes.” Kyoko confirmed as if she could read your mind. “And you?”
You choked on your coffee. “No!” 
“Huh… sorry you both left together.” Kyoko moved her eyebrows.
“We did? Agh I can’t remember most things…” You cried. “Do you know if something happened between us?” You looked at her.
“I don’t know, I was quite busy with…” She moved her eyes.
“Kyoko…” You sighed. “I have feelings for Satoru.” You finally got it off your chest and said it out loud.
Kyoko looked at you and a big smile appeared across her face. “I knew it!” She screamed. 
“How?” 
“Oh girl, your eyes never lie.” She smirked. “And now Shoko owes me 7000¥!” She danced.
“Excuse me?” You asked. “Did you bet for me and my feelings?” 
“Yep.” She smiled. “I gave you a month to realize, Shoko gave you to the end of the term.” She shrugged and turned around to prepare herself a coffee.
“Was it that obvious? Oh my god.” 
“Kinda.”
“Satoru told me he would kiss me sober.” 
“So he finally had the balls.” Kyoko whispered but you were able to hear her.
“Shit, I can’t hardly remember anything but I think Satoru also likes me?” 
“Oh god!” Kyoko said. “You are completely blind, aren’t you?” 
“What?”
“Yeah Satoru likes you too, have you been paying attention to the way he looks at you or how softly he says that nickname you used to hate so much.”
When you realized it, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flooded your senses. The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place, revealing a truth you had previously been too blind to see.
"Oh Lord!" You gasped, unable to contain the revelation that had just hit you.
Kyoko turned, concern etched into her features as she looked at you. "What is it?"
"I think...I think I confessed to Satoru while I was sleeping!" You blurted out, the words leaving your lips in a wave of panic and disbelief.
Kyoko's eyes widened in surprise, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Really? You had one of you sleeping talk episodes?"
You recounted the events of the previous night, from the hazy memories of the club to the intimate moment shared with Satoru in your room. As you spoke, the weight of your confession hung in the air, filling you with a sense of vulnerability like you had never felt before.
Kyoko listened intently, his gaze softening with understanding. "Well, if it's any consolation, maybe it's a sign that your subconscious knows what your heart really desires."
You couldn't help but laugh at her attempt to lighten the mood, though embarrassment still lingered in the back of your mind. "I guess so." You admitted, a slight blush staining your cheeks. “But still, Kyoko, what am I going to do tomorrow when I see him?”
"What do you mean by that?" Kyoko tilted her head. “It's obvious, you confess, you become a couple and then we can go on double dates!” Kyoko celebrated.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head. As Kyoko's excitement bubbled around you, you couldn't help but feel the weight of uncertainty and insecurity pressing down on you and pinning you even harder to the kitchen floor. The idea of taking a step towards a romantic relationship with Satoru filled you with both longing and fear.
In fact, you and Satoru were like opposite poles, two completely opposite worlds that found themselves dancing around a whirlwind of desire and uncertainty. The undeniable attraction between you was evident to those around you.
What would happen if things didn't work out between you? What if taking that step forward ruined the beautiful friendship you had built over those few weeks? It had only been a few weeks but the thought of losing Satoru as a friend, of losing the warmth and comfort that his presence provided, sent a shiver down your spine.
You laughed bitterly at the irony of it all: the idea of ​​being friends with Satoru Gojo seemed impossible not long ago, and yet here you were, cherishing the bond you had forged with him.
The warmth that settled in your chest whenever he was around, the feeling of protection that enveloped you when you were together, those were the things you didn't want to lose. The thought of sacrificing that for the uncertain promise of romance left you torn and conflicted.
You knew that Satoru felt the same as you, his heart beat strongly for you. It shouldn't be that complicated, to take that step forward. But the cloud of uncertainty loomed over your head, threatening to unload at any moment.
“I will talk with Satoru tomorrow.” You made your decision. “And see what happens.” You nodded for yourself.
“Oh baby, I’m so proud of you.” She clapped. “You will see everything will work smoothly.” She smiled.
You really hope it was like that, you really did.
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・'・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
To say that you had slept little was to say a lot, you had barely slept a wink the whole night. The weight of uncertainty settled heavily on your chest, and each passing hour amplified the questions and doubts that swirled in your mind.
How would you face Satoru today? How would you muster the courage to confront the issue of your feelings, knowing that the outcome was far from certain?
But in the midst of the chaos of your thoughts, a new worry arose, one that sent a shiver of fear through you. What if, to Satoru, you were nothing more than a passing fancy? What if the rumors about his reputation as a "fuckboy" had some truth to them and your feelings for him were nothing more than a fleeting whim?
You had dismissed the rumors as baseless gossip, believing in the sincerity and depth of the connection you shared with Satoru.
What if you had fallen in love with someone who saw you as nothing more than a conquest? That thought was like a dagger into your soul, piercing the fragile hope that had sustained you through the long night.
As you leaned your head against the classroom window, frustration and anticipation gnawing at your nerves, the arrival of your classmates brought a momentary distraction. 
“Hey guys! Professor Tanaka has just posted the results on the app!” The mention of the exam results brought you back to reality.
You almost forgot about the exam you had due to the emotions surrounding everything that happened during the weekend. 
With a feeling of dread, you pulled out your phone and navigated to the app, your heart racing as you searched for your score. And when you saw the mark, 100, your breath caught and a wave of relief washed over you.
"Birdie?"
The sound of Satoru's voice brought you out of your reverie and you looked up to see him standing in front of you, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
"Satoru!" You exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement. "The results are out! I got a 100!"
But as you spoke, Satoru's expression changed, a smile appearing on his lips. "Well, I guess we might have a problem." He said cryptically.
Confusion crossed your features as you tried to make sense of his statement. "What do you mean?" You asked, tilting your head in confusion.
Satoru met your gaze with a playful glint in his eyes. "I also got a 100." He revealed. “I guess our bet ended in a tie, birdie.”
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eldritchtouched · 2 days
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I don't trust that new character.
So, minor-ish Shadow of the Erdtree spoilers, though Elden Ring's Twitter itself officially posted the art.
Talking about this person here.
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Their whole everything is very, very off.
Now, I will first note that a lot of their design elements are very specifically stuff associated with Miquella and Trina. Helixes and lilies and growing plants, along with the colors. (I should know. I spent way too much time screenshotting and looking at stuff in Elphael and the Haligtree lol.)
But it's the how that first set off alarm bells.
So, you see, Miquella's own outfits tend to be very simple when we've seen him depicted in statues, and in the other pieces of artwork. His followers wear some more complicated designs, along with certain items associated with him/implied to be his creations, such as the Pulley Bow and Malenia's prosthetics.
This design is far too overdesigned. It's so over the top and that's what's bothering me. Miquella's following and Malenia wear nicer stuff than Miquella himself, true, but it never is to this point. Mohg himself, while he has his ostentatious mantle, has some much simpler clothing underneath.
(Mohg seemed to key in on Miquella's distaste with showy stuff, too. He's the only logical person to have made the ring that the giant Miquella body is wearing. It's notably subdued compared to Mohg's taste for ostentatious clothing and seems more akin to the little flower buttons on Mohg's undershirt in its relative simplicity.)
There's also some oddities in terms of the details as well. The white cloak isn't pure white and has some almost purple undertones (more of a pink). We've seen this before, though- Dolores the Sleeping Arrow, wearing the page's armor, and it is similar in that it's almost a pinkish color instead of purple. (Who, mind you, is tied to St. Trina.) The sword itself has a crisscrossing pattern that is reminiscent of Radagon's seal.
There's also the implication that they are the one giving the dialogue to tell the player to go to the Land of Shadow, and narrating about what Miquella told them. Along with the implication that they're some kind of knight of Miquella.
First thing's first. Miquella never had any knights sworn to him specifically. All of the people in Elphael are specifically Haligtree knights and soldiers, not Miquellan. We do encounter a Miquellan Knight Sword, but it is explicitly labeled as not having a master. It seems awfully suspicious that someone shows up as what is clearly supposed to be a knight of Miquella.
Miquella also departed for the Land of Shadow alone. And everything in the world design seems to imply that he wanted to keep both his following safe (and probably the Mohgwyn dynasty, too, considering all the design overlaps in security), and to make sure nobody would actually follow him.
So this person miraculously shows up, knowing how to get to Miquella despite Miquella deliberately leaving alone, when everyone Miquella clearly cared for doesn't seem to know what's going on.
Second is how they know what they know. They talk as if they've spoken to Miquella, but that seems really fucking weird, doesn't it? If Miquella deliberately left the way he did, why would he just tell random people he met that kind of stuff? Too much of it is raising red flags for that reason. He seems to have been very secretive in what he knew, like he wanted to fix it all without getting others involved unless necessary. He compartmentalized information quite a bit.
This makes sense, though, if it isn't something they needed to be told because they already knew it.
I think it's St. Trina, searching for Miquella, to get him to go back to his fate. A fate Miquella deliberately wished to abandon.
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asimplecomfort · 2 years
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Today's comfort: icebox cakes
I feel like it's easy to think "I can't bake" and then... not bake. But fear not, icebox cakes are basically the simplest recipe ever! And then tomorrow you'll have a treat waiting for future you!
Here's all you need:
Some kind of dry cookie (graham crackers, Oreo cookies without the filling, Nabisco wafers are all classics, but as long as it's a dry cookie you're golden)
Whipped cream
A container to put it in
A fridge
Time
That's it at its core. You get a container, make some whipped cream (whip heavy cream to soft peaks, with or without sugar), put some in the container, layer it with some of the cookies, repeat until you're happy, then wait 3+ hours or overnight depending on the cookie. 
You can definitely go fancy though! Trifles with cake, jam, fruit, and custard are effectively an icebox cake. I like making cocoa whipped cream and throwing in some nibs for crunch. The world is your icebox cake!
And for vegans and lactose intolerant folks, I have made this with coconut whipped cream! It can take a bit longer to set but it's still plenty tasty.
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tautozhone · 28 days
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idk how to start this so this post is ab individual action, trying to motivate positive change in the world, etc etc
a lot of growing up in the US for me makes things feel more scary than they are. like it’s actually not that difficult to go out of your way to get a bottle of water or iced cup of water from some random drive through if you think you should do it. either fast food conglomerate or local actually, it’ll usually be cheaper than 5 dollars to get drinkable water. i try to have 5-10 dollars i can justify spending on water, and asking for change, because sometimes when i’m out driving i need to go grab water.
i do not do this for me as much as i try to do it specifically when i see someone who’s most likely homeless on a street corner. i’m sure one day i might do this and they might not be there when i come back, but what have i lost really? a bit of time and a bit of money that would’ve meant more to them, that i can hold onto until i see them next.
the pressure that a lot of people feel when they think “what can i do” comes from this grand narrative that the average citizen can singlehandedly fix the housing crisis. rich people? maybe. nonprofits? not in a day, not all one person still. what can i do is a question i ask a lot. what can i do, not just because it feels bad to move along like nothings wrong with the world, but what can i do that will do anything. what can i do that makes even the smallest change.
i feel like it took me too long to figure out a personal method to what i consider individual action. it’s taking time to get to my own financial stability to be able to do more. but for now it’s as simple as water and cash. not water and food, but water and cash.
individual action means a lot in small steps, go get a bottle of water bare minimum and the price of a meal if you can and then just give it to them. if it wasn’t such a miserably hot place where i live i would keep a pack of water in my car, which i still want to do for the sake of having immediate access to water to give someone who might need it- hot or cold sometimes won’t matter. but when it’s hot out, get cold water, if it’s cold out, a warm tea will hydrate more than coffee will as long as it’s not super caffeinated.
#very genuinely i’ve always felt paralyzed by the idea i cannot doing anything to help and on the grand scale i kind of can’t#i can’t give someone a house to stay in where i could take care of the space enough to get someone back on their own feet#but i can give someone water and some money for whatever they need#one day i’ll be able to do more but for now. water bottles and cash.#what i want to say here is everyone knows bare necessities and everyone knows ways to get them#i also have an opinion that you should sit with and hold the harsh feeling of seeing the world fall apart and help people survive anyway#idfk man#i’ve met some extremely fucking jaded people in my time at college who seem to have no way to piece together that they can do SOMETHING#one of my classmates once complained about feeling bad about not doing anything for a guy on a corner and i recognized who#because i’d seen him too and done nothing at least 5 times before one day on the way home i gave him all the cash i had on me#she’d said she’d do more if she wasn’t so scared and anxious of being hurt. i don’t see how he could even look harmful or dangerous#he blessed me and offered a hug and asked me to have a good day and said thank you and i still can’t see why she was scared of him#at the same time i hadn’t done anything until i saw myself in someone else and thought it looked nasty. looked uncaring.#i saw him again today and gave him a water bottle and all the cash i had on me. i told him the weather seemed hot#he agreed with me and he took the bottle of water#i think i interrupted him opening it to hand him the rest#he got up and he blessed me again#offered a hug and more thank you’s and it’s so simple but i felt us both human in that moment. talking about the weather in a brief exchange#wishing each other well as we go different ways#he wouldn’t stop thanking me and wishing me well#i told him it was the smallest thing i think anyone could do and i still walked away hollow wishing to have done more somehow#to suddenly own an apartment complex nearby for him and anyone he knew that needed it too#not a rigid shelter but a place to make home#blah blah blah talking too much about a deed done because i get emotional about humanity#tauto talks
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faexoxoxoxo · 3 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐓...
ᓚᘏᗢ basketball player gojo x reader x basketball player geto.
✎⁠ 18+, overstimulation, pure filth, smuttt...
✎⁠ dividers by @cafekitsune
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It was simple, really.
Suguru loved you, Satoru loved you, and they both wanted to see you wearing a jersey that had their name on it during the teams basketball tournaments.
Again, simple. They could've worked out a schedule and taken turns having you wear the names. Heck, you even offered to customize a new jersey with both their names on it, but nooo, like everything else in life, your boyfriends just had to make a bet about this.
Whoever made you cum the hardest got to have you wear their jersey.
~~~
“Aww, look at your pretty pussy, baby. filled her up real good, huh? Such a greedy little hole...”
God, you wished you could smack the proud grin off Satoru's face, but right now, with his head between your thighs, long tongue dipping into your weeping, overstimulated, cum filled pussy, all that came out of you was a broken string of soft whimpers and moans, twisting and turning as Satoru coxed you over the edge for the third time.
You tried to squirm away, but they wouldn't let you. Suguru had a firm grip on your legs, keeping them wide open, while Satoru seemed drunk of your juices and his own cum, hungrily lapping at everything you had, refusing to let a single drop of it go to waste.
Turning your head, your dazed eyes met Suguru's silently pleading with him to tell Satoru to back off, to put an end to this little game of theirs, but all you got in return was a smile. The smug bastard was enjoying this; it was obvious, with the growing strain in his pants and a barely noticeable flush on his face. It came as no surprise, really; you already knew how much Suguru loved watching you get ruined by Satoru.
“Hmm, What's wrong, princess? Satoru's not pleasing you enough?” Suguru cooed, wiping the drool off your lips with his fingers as you sucked in a deep breath.
“Ahhh...S...Suguru...no more…”
They really needed to stop; you'd pass out if they kept on making you cum...
“Nuh uh, baby, I plan to win this” Suguru laughed. Your teary eyed, fucked out expression, coupled with the plea, was enough to make him rock hard, “not about to let you wear this idiot's jersey tomorrow,” giving a harsh slap to your thigh and making you gasp, his grin widened, hand now moving to pull Satoru's head away from your cunt.
“Hey!” Satoru groaned, “Fuck you, man, everyone knows I'm the strongest.” cussing the black haired man as he’s pushed aside.
“Right, right,” Suguru mocked his playmate, flipping you onto your back, “now be a good boy and lemme show you how it's really done.”
Without warning, he'd filled you up, with one hard swift thrust, hips slamming against your ass as he ferociously rutted into your weeping cunt, “My dirty little slut” Suguru grunted as you sobbed into the pillows.
"Sugu…ahhhh…noo can't…slow," you mewled back, arching instinctively as his cock kept on hitting the sensitive spot that made your brain turn to mush, “need to cum... Sugu...please, please, please, lemme cum.” You babbled, starting to feel the familiar coil building up inside your tummy.
“Yea? Gonna cream around daddy, and make him win...” Suguru taunted menacingly, angling himself to hit your sweat spot over and over again, while making eye contact with Satoru, who'd begun moaning while fisting his own hard, reddened cock.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you chanted fervently, toes curling as you moaned out little yeses and pleases. He'd done it again, Suguru’s dick always managed to reduce you into nothing more than a brain dead cock slut.
"Fuck...go on then,” he breathed, voice raspy and deep a sign that he was close too. “Lets show Satoru what a good girl you are for me.”
Your body quivers. Feeling Suguru throbbing inside your tightening pussy, you let out a soundless scream before coming all over his cock.
The sight was enough to have Satoru fall over the edge. “Shit... princess,” he groaned, looking at you through hooded eyes, as his cum spilled onto the bed and his abs in hot spurts. “Now I get why this asshole loves watching me fuck you.”
Chuckling, Suguru pulled you closer to his chest, keeping on fucking you ruthlessly through your high, making you whimper. “Gonna fill you up so much; you'll be leaking for days, princess,” he let out a long groan, his head falling back, thrusts growing hard and slow until he finally stilled inside you, his hot load filling you up to the brim as promised, his dark violet eyes meeting Satoru's sparkling blue ones.
“Damn it.” Satoru swore knowingly, he never liked admitting defeat, but Suguru'd won this round with his dick game. Well, no matter, this just meant he'd have to try harder again next time...
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✎⁠ I've always done character x reader, and this is my first attempt at character x reader x character so don't know how well I wrote it but hope you guys enjoyed...
✎⁠ likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated⁠ ♡
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
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[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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violettaskies · 8 months
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Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
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The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 
No. 
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 
What a dream. 
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong. 
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 
You were about to become the death of him tonight. 
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 
“Y-yes, I would be.” 
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 
“More, please.” 
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong. 
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 
Fuck. 
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 
“Let's use a little, Steve.” 
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 
Just the tip — you said the words before. 
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 
“Feels nice.”  
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 
“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 
And he did. 
Good god, he did. 
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 
“Another day?” 
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 
-:-:-:-:-
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wifeyoozi · 1 month
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ot13 seventeen : backstage quickie
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seungcheol : it took one pout from you after you saw him all dressed up in that sexy purple suit and slicked back red hair for him to pull you aside in an empty restroom. Didn't even bother taking off his clothes, just pulled down the zipper and took his dick out and railed you pinned to the wall. Precisely 15 minutes later he was scolded by the stylist for messing up the hair and getting all sweaty over the make up.
Jeonghan : he'd been making out with you right there in front of everyone, shamelessly, holding you down on his lap and grinding against you. Someone (seungkwan) begged him to get a room and not cum all over his pants in front of everyone.
Joshua : he'd gotten so horny thinking of how he'd be able to fuck you all night after concert since it was the last day and had a very embarrassingly visible tent in his pocket. He'd call you backstage and scurried you off to an abandoned room to have you up on his cock.
Junhui : the concert was starting in exactly 10 minutes and he had his fingers knuckle deep in you in the restroom. He knew everyone had been searching for him to get on his position but he also refused to let go of you undone.
Hoshi : it was just a simple good luck kiss which turned into deep kissing which turned into heated make out which turned into him ramming his dick in you as fast as possible which turned into the manager and stylist scolding him for the mess he's made of himself.
Wonwoo : he wasn't even that horny when he pulled you into the janitor's closet and lifted your skirt up and started scissoring you to prep you for his dick. He just thought the orgasm-induced endorphin and dopamine release would make him more energetic for the stage. And it was probably one of the best performances he's ever given, thanks to you.
Woozi : it wasn't his fault when you came into the green room wearing that tight red leather mini skirt to wish him goodluck, that too paired with the hot red lipstick. He's brain is just associated you wearing anything red with sex enough for his dick to come back to life immediately and having you take care of him backstage.
minghao : he was usually very self-composed and has a good control over his dick. But he is, at the end of the day, a man. And seeing you wink and openly flirt with him in front of everyone sends heat directly to his crotch. And since you caused it, you gotta sort it. He'll find you an empty room, lock it and sit on any available chair, giving you the liberty to sate his arousal however you can.
Mingyu : fucking before shows is a ritual. If he can't fuck you before show, he'll be (secretly) sulky the whole time. He's very adamant about blowing your back and filling you full of cum and have you keep that cum in you till the show ends.
seokmin : the first time he did it, he was so nervous, wanting to get done as quickly and quietly as possible. After a few times, he's confident enough to fuck you at his pace without having you shut up. If anyone hears, it's their problem to be wandering around unused changing rooms.
Seungkwan : he loooves the part where he fucks you. Gives him the energy pump needed to be the greater entertainer on the stage he is. Loves eating you out, your juices are his lucky potion. What he hates tho is when everyone started teasing him after he's come out of the restroom with you, all messed up. If the stylist scolds him, he'll whined and somehow pass the blame on you. Tho nothing will stop him from doing it again.
Vernon : I think unironically the only smart one because he'll have you suck him instead of getting in your puss cuz that's the least messy way to do it. He initially only did it that way to avoid cleaning up mess after but realised this way no one scolds him after he goes missing for some time for messing up his hair and outfit and make up.
Chan : excited and agrees immediately when you ask him for a quickie and steal him to the restroom. Locks you two in a restroom stall and sits on the bathroom seat before you ride him. You have to cover his mouth when you hear someone enter, for it to turn out to be the leader calling him to get his make up done immediately. He calls out five minutes in a shaky voice and you have to hurry yourself on him to get you both orgasm immediately.
Bonus : cheol scolded chan for not using condoms in the heat of the moment when he knows of it. How he knows of it? That's cheol's business how he looks after his kids.
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maybankswhore · 11 months
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I don’t know if you’re still taking obx requests (if you’re not feel free to ignore this) but maybe you could write about JJ dating the girliest girl on the island and all the pouges are like HER? And he’s so proud like yeah that’s my girl
𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.
this request was too cute not to do! i don’t know if this is the direction you were looking for but i think it came out adorable! i hope you like it <3
pairing(s): jj maybank x fem!reader
summary: in which jj bags the girliest girl on the island— but what can he say? opposites attract.
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The minute JJ saw you , he knew he had to have you. You made his eyes glimmer the moment they laid upon you— with half of your hair pulled back in a pretty pink claw clip , a pretty white sundress on as you laughed sweetly with your friends , nails done and makeup complimenting your features so well.
You were quite literally , breathtaking , in his eyes and although you weren’t the usual low maintenance , tom–boyish type of girl he was used to , it had only made him more attracted to you.
At first he didn’t know how to approach you. He never had problems in the girl department before. Being so confident and charismatic , talking a girl up was a slice of cake to him. But when it came to you , you just seemed so nice and warm. He was afraid that he wouldn’t meet your standards , that maybe you deserved someone better than him. The difference in aesthetics were clear— him with his years old shorts and plain tee while you sported that white sundress that was so elegantly simple.
He sipped on his beer slowly watching you from across the Boneyard , trying to get a good feel of your personality. From what he could see , you seemed nice. You talked to almost everyone and seemed genuinely interested in each convention. He knew you weren’t a Pogue but you didn’t give Kook vibes either. JJ was just about to give it all up and walk away , until Pope walked over to you and gave you a hug– which you had excitedly returned.
JJ watched the two of you converse for a bit wondering if he should wait and ask Pope about you or just go up mid–conversation and introduce himself. . . The conversation wasn’t long enough for him to interrupt though , because by the time he got his thoughts together Pope was already walking towards him.
“What’re you staring at me for?” Pope shoved his shoulder playfully , filling up his cup at the keg JJ was standing next to.
JJ snorted. “You wish I was staring at you. I was looking at her— who is that?” He nodded in your direction.
“That’s Y/N and she’s not your type.” Pope snorted , rolling his eyes at the glint JJ’s face held– he knew that face all too well.
JJ huffed. “And why not? She’s a pretty girl. I like those.”
“Pretty and girly , JJ. She’s emotional and likes all that romantic bullshit you hate. You’d hate it.” Pope pointed out , reminding JJ of the millions of girlfriends he had but soon discarded because he couldn’t keep an emotional connection to save his life. Let alone know how to romance a girl.
JJ gave Pope and offended expression , scoffing. “I can be romantic , Pope.”
“One time you gave a girl a bag of dirt for Valentines Day.” Pope deadpanned.
“Bitch , I was literally ten!” JJ defended. “And it’s the thought that counts. I picked out all the bugs.”
Pope stared at JJ for a second , giving him a knowing look making JJ sigh deeply. “Whatever! I don’t care what you say. I’m in love!” JJ oogled in your direction , a hand over his heart.
Pope patted JJ on the back and shook his head. “I’m sure you are , buddy. I’m sure you are.”
With that Pope walked away to find his other friends , leaving JJ to huff on his own.
“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” JJ muttered , finishing off his drink. Sure he acknowledged you weren’t his ‘usual’ type— but hey! How’s that saying go? Opposites attract!
Downing the rest of his drink , JJ shook his body to release his nerves. You were finally alone , sitting next to the fire while your friends played beer pong a few feet away from you. Taking this as his time to shine , he strolled over to you with sweaty palms. He felt like a teenage boy having his first crush all over again! All sweaty and nervous. He really did think you were the prettiest girl ever , and he had to talk to you.
“Uh– want some company?” JJ asked lowly , hoping you’d still be able to hear him. He didn’t want to scare you or seem to pushy , so he made sure not to tower over you and keep a good distance away.
Your eyes looked away from the fire and up at him , your cheeks burning red. He was cute. A messy head of blonde hair with small dimples barely noticeable when he smiled. You could feel his nervousness and it made you giggle a bit , excitement in your tummy swirling at the thought of such a cute boy wanting to talk to you. “Sure.” You accepted , moving over for him to sit next to you.
“I—um. . . I like your dress.” JJ said as he sat down , cringing at how awkward he sounded.
You grinned at his compliment. “Thank you. I like your shirt.” You returned the compliment , although the shirt wasn’t to interesting , the person wearing it made it look good.
“Nah this thing’s old.” JJ brushed off.
“Well I don’t know how old this thing is but I bought it at a thrift shop not too long ago.” You shrugged , bumping his shoulder. “I’m Y/N.”
Feeling more comfortable with making conversation , JJ looked at you smiling. “JJ.”
“You’re Pope’s friend!” You remembered Pope bringing up someone named JJ before in distant conversations. Though he was always ranting about the boy , seeming exasperated every time.
“The one and only.” JJ said proudly. “So that means he talks about me— how sweet.” He cooed.
You chuckled. “Only about how you never stop forcing him to leave work early.”
“What kind’ve friend would I be if I just let him work his little self out like that!” JJ defended.
“Point proven.” You nodded , laughing with him. He seemed easy to talk to , even with just a few exchanges of words to eachother. His aura seemed sweet , something that you noticed. “So Pope wasn’t there to keep you company?” You teased.
JJ cheeks blushed slightly , scratching the back of his neck. “No actually , I–uh , I saw you earlier and I think you’re like really pretty and I really wanted to talk to you.” He admitted , hoping to see if you’d be interested in— well anything.
It was your turn to blush. A sweet smile on your face as you tucked a piece of hair away from your face. “You think so?”
“The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He vowed with one hand up in the air. “Scout’s honor.” JJ added.
“Well I think you’re really pretty , too.” You grinned , copying his actions. “Scout’s honor.”
The rest of the night flowed easily between you two. The two of you talked about anything and everything getting to know eachother , seeing what you had in common and what you didn’t. You weren’t much of an outdoorsy person , and loved everything bright and cheerful. JJ seemed to be quite the opposite but he was interested in what you liked , and you seemed to have an open mind about the things he did , as well.
The night ended and your friends called you over telling you it was time to leave , but you put your number in JJ’s phone telling him to call you.
And you didn’t get too far before he dialed that number right up , making sure he had it before you left.
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Things had ended up well betwen you and JJ. He had taken you out on dates. Some being what he wanted to do , some of you forcing him to go thrift shopping with you and give him a fashion show. He had researched every romantic comedy , every romance novel to give you the most that you deserved because he started to really like you.
He loved everything about you , how girly you were , how your nails were always done and your hair always fixed. You had such passion for so many things and it shined through you , and it showed inside and out.
JJ fell for you quickly , asking you to be his girlfriend on the seventh date. He planned everything all by himself. A beach picnic at night with pretty little candles and lights. ( All things he had thrifted , knowing it’d make your heart happy. )
He’d never forget how pretty you looked that night in your skirt , big eyes watching him in admiration as he asked you to be his girlfriend , getting all emotional and crying when he did.
But now that things were really serious , he wanted to introduce you to the Pogue’s— which he was excited about , but you were so nervous.
“Baby they’re gonna love you.” JJ promised as the two of you walked to the front door. “I told them they’re gonna love you and they have to listen to me and do what I say regardless.”
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend. “It doesn’t work like that , JJ.”
“Well it does in my world.” He told you , wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you close to him. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you so they’ll love you because I do.”
Your heart melted and you always fell to your knees. “I love you , too.”
JJ kissed you one more time before opening the door. You could hear the chaos as soon as it opened , laughter and commotion. Your stomach was in knots as you walked in , wondering what his friends would think. You had seen Pope a couple times since being with JJ , but you hadn’t said anything out of respect for your boyfriend because you knew he wanted to be the one to tell them.
“Hey guys!” JJ said loud enough for them to look at him , their eyes immediately looking at you then back at him then the arm around your waist.
Kiara smirked , knowing that JJ always did have that soft spot he claimed never to have. Pope looked like a deer in headlights and John B was just confused.
“I want you to meet my girlfriend.” He put emphasis on girlfriend. “Who is extremely hot and girly and also extremely my type.” JJ said , looking at Pope.
You nudged JJ’s shoulder and smiled at them. “I’m Y/N.”
“No fucking way.” Pope said , obviously shocked.
“Aw! My little JJ is all grown up.” Kiara pretended to wipe a tear away. “You’re so cute— I’m Kiara.” She pushed past the two boys and tugged at your arm. “I’m excited to have another girl around , do you smoke? Let’s smoke a joint outside.”
JJ pulled you away from her. “Um , no. She doesn’t and her first time ain’t being with you!”
Kiara scoffed and pulled you back , standing in front of you protectively. “If she wants to she will.” She glared before turning back to you and pulling you towards the back yard. “You totally don’t have to.” She whispered in your ear making you laugh.
JJ smiled as he watched his bestfriend take to you and bring you outside. He was excited to have you around more and bring into his life in this way , the Pogue’s were a part of his world that he wanted you a part of.
“I gotta say JJ , I wasn’t expecting that.” John B clapped him on the shoulder.
“No kidding!” Pope scoffed. “I didn’t think he’d get past the first conversation.”
JJ crossed his arms and smirked , shrugging nonchalantly. “What can I say? Opposites attract.”
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experimentfae · 4 months
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Alastor x Wife! Reader
Oneshot / fluff
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After you and alastor had moved into the hotel to “help.” Let’s just say that the rest of the hotel residents saw pda all. The. Time.
Vaggie watched as alastor kissed your hand again! “Sweet satan can those two get a room already that’s literally the seventh time he kissed her hand.” She grumbled out “aw come on vaggie you have to admit it’s sweet seeing love like that’s down here, it’s rare, except our love of course.” Stated Charlie.
“I get it, we get like that, but the difference is that we do it SOMETIMES they do it EVERY TIME they have the chance.” She Argued “and besides I just really don’t like that radio dipshit.” “Oh please you don’t like anyone attached to a dick.” Angel dust butted in while he laid on the other couch busy looking at his phone.
Vaggie could only roll her eyes in response “well I think our pda is not of your concern.” Spoke alastor with a smug look which made everyone except you jump a little “satan’s asshole do you always have to come out like that?!” Argued angeldust “it’s more entertaining to watch all of you jump in a little scare.” Alastor replied proud of himself to make them a little scared.
“Dear even if it was quite hilarious we can’t do that to them all the time… it wouldn’t be entertaining anymore like that.” You advised him while you walked towards him to be next to him. “You’re right my dear, wouldn’t wish that.”
“Yep a match made in hell.” Grumbled out husk then he continued to take his beer “husk is right my dear we the perfect pair.” “I don’t think that’s what he meant sorta, but we are perfect for each other.” Just then you looked to see the clock then you let out a gasp “oh Al we don’t want to be late for our dinner reservations.” You stated, “oh yes, we must get ready.”
With a simple snap of his finger’s you and alastor were completely dressed “what’s up with the getup?” Angeldust questioned “it’s our anniversary, so we going to the cannibal colony to alastor’s favorite restaurant.” You smiled “wait you’re a cannibal too.” Vaggie asked in shock “well… I did try demon meat and it’s not that bad.” You answers shrugging your shoulders “so that’s a yes? Or … no?” Charlie questioned further “mmm yeah I believe so.” You answered again.
“Huh didn’t take you for a cannibal.” Spoke husk “yeah have you ate another’s man pecker and Al if she did would you be ok with that?” Questioned angeldust “absolutely not.” You both answered “enough with the questions we must hurry (y/n).” Demanded alastor “goodb- you didn’t get to finish you’re farewell due to alastor, once again he snapped his fingers and you were at the restaurant.
“Thankfully my love we made it on time.” Alastor spoke while he grabbed your hand and guided you inside the restaurant. A host was at the front seeming to writing something “welcome to the FedOnPals how may- when he looked up he immediately panicked “T-The alastor by hen smiled wider “yes me the radio demon and my lovely wife!” Alastor stated proudly also just because you knew he was an attention whore so he wanted others to know he was there.
Of course some of the cannibals in the restaurant seemed nervous. “Well- yes um of course I see you’re name on the list so… let me b-bring to your table.” The man said clearly wanting to get out of this situation as fast as possible.
Of course you two got the best seats in the house “a waiter will be with you shortly very… shortly p-promise.” The host immediately left with only made alastor chuckle “I do love the perks of being an overlord.” “Aw even more than me?” You teased with a smirk, he smiled wider “no dear you know I can’t love anything more than you.”
You smiled “I love the outfits you picked for us by the way very classy.” “Of course, only the best for my wife.” Just then a waiter came in “hello I’m Mindy and I’ll have your orders.” The demoness spoke as she gave you two the menus.
As the demoness left you two picked out your orders, ate, alastor paid then you two left to go to a jazz club to dance “oh honey you rembered my favorite spot.” You spoke with pure joy “I could never forget, besides our love for jazz is how we meet.” You smiled brighten as you pecked his cheek making him lightly blush “adorable.” “Me? adorable!? dear don’t joke like that.” Alastor demanded making you laugh “oh honey alright just having a little fun.”
Alastor opened the door for you, the song ‘lets misbehave’ by Irving Aaronson filled you’re ears “oh that’s a good song.” You stated, you thanked alastor and went through and he went after you.
You immediately dragged him to the dance floor which he happily let you, both you begin doing the Charleston funny enough this song always reminded you have alastor.
He then brought you into the foxtrot dance, you both looked into each others eyes that are filled with love. He the suddenly gave you a kiss making you blush but immediately kiss back.
You two continued dance, happy to in each others arms and having a loving relationship and knowing that you two where always will be inseparable.
<- Back to MasterList or back to Hazbin Hotel
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
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Just Jason being the human version of a house cat.
Someone on here said that Jason is just a massive lap cat and I can’t help but agree because just imagine it; an absolute beast of a man finding solace in resting specifically on your plush lap, his strong, warm arms caging your waist as his face is burrowed pleasantly into your stomach in content, groans in displeasure whenever he feels you move even the slightest of inches.
How dare you move when Jason was just getting comfortable, apologise now for your transgressions.
Jason’s warmth would be advantageous to you during the colder months but an absolute nightmare during the summer, more so if you’re the type to get warm really easily and it ends up irritating you. But this is neither here nor there.
‘Jaybirdie?’ You ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp now and then.
Jason groans, showing that he was listening.
‘I’ve got to get going soon or else they’ll call and ask why I’m late.’ You tell him as you felt his arms tighten and you smile. ‘And I can’t exactly say that my 6’2 boyfriend is sprawled across my lap like a stubborn house cat that is refusing me to leave. Now can I?’ You finished, moving your hand away from his hair and focusing on rubbing his upper back, wishing you could see his muscles beneath the black t-shirt. You could only being to imagine the way his beautiful muscles would contract and relax from your touch as though they were like the waves you’d see at the beach, webbing and flowing; it was borderline enticing.
‘Then don’t go then. Simple as.’ His muffled voice said against your stomach.
‘I can’t, I promise to help out at work because someone called in sick…again.’ You muttered out the last part. You didn’t know why your co-worker wasn’t sacked for having so much time off but you knew you weren’t the only one that didn’t like them, and from what you’ve been told by older co-workers, this wasn’t the first time they’ve done this and even then you were surprised that they still even had a job to come back to. So because of them, you and your fellow co-workers were being worked to the bone to cover their hours on top of your own.
‘Again?’ Jason asked, lifting his head up from your lap, having been kept up to date on the goings on in your workplace. ‘How haven’t they gotten pulled in for that shit?’
You shrugged your shoulders, genuinely as baffled as he was about the whole thing. ‘Honestly have got the slightest clue Jay, but It’s all the more reason for me to go.’
Jason groans as he reluctantly lets you go but now you were the one upset at the sudden loss of his warmth and that must’ve been apparent on your face as Jason smirked mischievously as he reassumed his position on your lap, his strong arms went back to holding your waist tightly and his face burrows back into your stomach as he sighs in content once more.
‘See, now you don’t wanna go now because your Jaybirdie won’t be there to keep you warm.’ He teased as you tugged at his hair, causing him to groan.
‘That’s not-‘
‘Oh don’t play the coy card with me sweetheart, we’ve already been through that stage in our relationship.’ Jason cuts you off. ‘because if you wanted to leave that badly you wouldn’t be rubbing my back or running your hand through my hair like you are right now.’ Jason then looks up at you with a raised brow as if challenging you in daring to say otherwise when you both knew the truth.
‘It’s just- we don’t typically get enough time together.’ You began. ‘Crime in Gotham has been on an increase as of late, which is taking much of your time, and work has been asking everyone to pitch in and help cover until our co-worker decided to comes back at their own accord.’ You paused to stroke Jason’s cheek, internally melting when you felt him press his face further into your hand, gingerly kissing your palm. ‘It just doesn’t give us enough time for moments like these, the moments we crave most.’
‘The moments where we’re just together.’ Jason finishes for you and you muttered a small ‘yeah.’
A silence befalls you both as you tried to engrain this moment into your memory because neither of you knew when the next time you got to peacefully exist in tandem, whether that be doing your own thing or doing something together, just as long as you were with each other for longer then a fleeting five minutes.
‘So do you still want to go to work?’ Jason asked. ‘Or do you want to be selfish for once?’
You gave it some thought and soon after began to reach for your phone and punch in the work number as Jason squeezed a thigh in his large hand. ‘Selfish it is.’ He murmured with a smile as he gotten himself comfortable before feeling you run your fingers through his hair once more.
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viennakarma · 5 months
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Happiness is a butterfly
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: He wants you but he can't have you. But when a fatal crash happens, he realizes maybe he should just take the jump, before it's too late.
Word count: 6.4k
Tags: Female reader, teammate reader, smut, oral, angst, crash, very remorseful nano, cursing, mostly fernando pov, fernando is in denial, age gap (not defined), hurt/comfort, brief mention of Jules Bianchi, happy ending, not beta read
Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Notes: LISTEN I wish I could control my creative brain but I can’t. *taps mic* Ok, so, who's ready for our little monthly crying session? This actually came to me in a dream after I listened to Happiness is a butterfly, and I ended up incorporating some of the lyrics in the story. I was only contemplating writing this when Anon sent this request asking for angst after a big fight, and I thought it goes perfectly with what I had in mind.
Hope it's to your liking, Anon!
Find me on Twitter!
“Fernando,” You whispered like it wasn’t wrong, like his name was a prayer.
Fernando knew it was wrong, not only because you were a driver and his teammate, but also because you were way too young for him. But whenever you two were like that, you in his arms, it felt so right, so perfect.
Sometimes he wondered to himself if he took advantage of you. Because ever since you first met, you looked at him with big shiny eyes, like you were facing a hero. He knew you were a fan of his, but then again, most of the younger drivers were. But when you two became teammates and got closer, he’d notice how your eyes would find his first thing after entering any room. Whenever you two had chats alone, you’d smile at him in a specific way you didn’t smile at anyone else, blush creeping up your face.
It was so easy to be enchanted by you, by your kindness and willingness. Fernando was drawn to you like a moth to flame, only you didn’t burn him. You were kind to everyone and very talkative, and for a while, Fernando wondered how you managed to get into Formula 1 and keep your spirit intact. Everyone called you a social butterfly. Then he started calling you Mariposa, as a sweet nickname, and he explained to you it meant “Butterfly”.
You two were always together, being teammates, so it didn’t take long for the dynamic shift. Soon, there were longing looks and lingering touches. The way Fernando would always touch the small of your back for a little too long when talking to you, or the way you lean too close whenever talking to him, or the way his eyes stare at your lips every opportunity. Or when you finished a good race and the first thing you’d do was jump on his arms. How you’d always knock three times on his helmet right before going off to the race, he started reciprocating the gesture, since he knew it was probably your thing for good luck or something.
Things went like that for too long, and neither of you were brave enough to take the jump, as you called it.
That until fate put you face to face during summer break. You were in Mallorca with a bunch of your friends for a girls trip in a resort by the sea. You were having brunch when you spotted Fernando at the same time he spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise, he muttered something to the people with him that looked like his family members, before coming to you.
“Mariposa!” He hugged you softly.
“Hi! Good to see you!” You chirped, nervously.
Fernando blatantly checked you out. You were wearing simple bikinis and a light beach robe. You were tanned, hair wild and cheeks red like you had come straight out of one of his wet dreams.
“Enjoying summer break?” He asked.
“Yeah, with my friends,” You pointed to where they waited for you at the table, “will you be here for long?”
“No, my family is going back today and I’m leaving tomorrow. We’ve been here for a few days already.”
You waved him goodbye after a quick chat. That night, the weather, the breeze and the empty villa tempted him into calling you. He didn’t want to be that guy so he resisted the urge, instead going for a walk by the beach, alone. As fate would have it, he found you at a small beach party with your friends, dancing and drinking.
Like a magnet, your eyes found his, and you said something to your friends before walking up to him.
“You came to the party?” You asked.
“No, I was just taking a walk and passed by,” He shrugged, and started walking away “I’ll let you go back to your friends.”
“No! No- I mean- Can I walk with you?” You asked and he just nodded.
You two walked away by the shore, the small waves crashing over your feet, and you two chatting about the island and all the adventures you got to go.
“So you went diving, surfing? Everything?”
“I have always been kind of a scaredy-cat, especially as a kid. My dad used to tell me ‘you just have to breathe ten seconds of courage and take the jump’. Funnily, racing was the only thing I wasn’t afraid of. I’m in control, me and the car are one.”
He listened to you for a long while, his eyes focused on the way the wind picked up your hair, your dress flowy in the wind and your bikini top peeking from under the neckline. You were looking delicious, he had to admit. You always were, but now, after spending the whole day under the sun, your skin was golden and glowy, and he imagined himself biting into your shoulder and kissing up your neck.
When you two finally stopped by the villa, Fernando looked at you attentively.
“Won’t your boyfriend be worried about you?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you shook your head knowing that he was just trying to find out if you had someone.
“You don’t? Well you’re pretty and nice, I thought you’d have one by now.” 
“You think I’m pretty?” You asked, blushing which made him chuckle.
“You know you are stunning.”
“Well, I know I’m pretty, I just didn’t know if I am pretty enough for you.”
“Mariposa,” his voice had a tone of reprimand, but his eyes falling down your cleavage and body, betrayed him.
“Just one kiss?” You asked, pouting, “and we don’t even have to talk about it after.”
“I can’t.”
“But you want to?” You asked, full of hope.
“We should not,” he whispered as you closed the distance to his face, your face barely centimeters from his, lips dangerously close.
“We could just,” you tried to come up with an argument, but your lips brushed his beard and you lost all train of thought.
“If we start, I will not be able to stop,” he mumbled, trying so hard to refrain himself.
“Then don’t.”
That’s all it took for him to press his fingers to your nape, pulling you in and smashing his lips to yours. And it felt divine, like nothing he had ever done before, you were sweet and the harder he kissed you, the more pliant you got in his arms, sighing and moaning softly as his hand found home over your ass, pressing firmly until your whole body was flush to his.
“Fernando,” you whispered, his lips going down your neck, his beard making goosebumps raise on your skin.
Then you walked inside without really breaking apart. Fernando pulled your dress from your body, staring at you in your bikini.
“This is tiny,” he said, hooking a finger by the string on the sides of the bottom.
You smiled some way you hoped was seductive, taking a step back so he could see you fully as you pulled the strings, letting your bikini top fall to the floor, followed by the bottom soon after.
Soon he had you bent over the back of the sofa, holding onto the seat for dear life as he knelt behind you and ate you out, fingering you ass all the way to a mind blowing orgasm. Then he fucked you senseless, whispering dirty nothings into your ear, switching English and Spanish back and forth. He slapped your ass until it was stinging, whispering about your “tempting tiny bikini”. He had you groaning, drooling against the sofa until your toes curled and you came around his cock.
“Nano… Fuck-” you moaned feeling him cumming too.
He cuddled you, both of you falling on the sofa, spent.
“Why were we holding back? We should’ve done this a long time ago.” You said, lips brushing his beard.
He didn’t answer because he knew why he had been holding back. You were young, sometimes naive, and his teammate. It was double the trouble. But he didn’t allow himself to wallow in those feelings, rather focusing on the feel of you naked in his arms.
“You know what we should do? Stay here a bit longer,” you rose from his chest, eyes glinting mischievously, “we should extend our stay here.”
“Just you and me?”
“Just us,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his chest.
And so you stayed with him. You sent your friends to Ibiza as a gift and Fernando extended his rent on the villa. You’d spend the day lazing around, cooking together and going to the beach or the pool. You played tennis and trained together in the small gym. You made love on every possible surface of that whole villa, which left you spent and satisfied every single day.
And you talked. Fernando considered you to be one of the closests people to him on the grid, but still, he learned so much more about you, about your mental strength to rise and thrive in motorsport. And you were clever and witty, joking around him, talking about life and all your dreams. And he could hear you for hours on end, never getting tired of you.
Unfortunately, your little time of uninterrupted happiness had to end. With a heavy heart, you kissed him goodbye, both of you aware that things would never go back to the way they were before summer break. But you two were also too scared to name anything, or to ruin whatever this dynamic was.
But you left Mallorca admitting to yourself that you had fallen in love even deeper.
You tried to keep texting and calling him, but you usually were in very different time zones so the texts were few and far between. Fernando even sent you a sweet text on your birthday a few of days later.
There was a gala by the end of summer break almost three weeks later, hosted by the FIA, it was mostly for mingling, and most drivers usually went, especially those trying to keep an image to the big shots.
Fernando went there because he rarely missed it. And maybe because he knew you would be there too, and maybe he could leave with you.
You arrived a little late, stunning in a green gown, with a tight corset and a big slit showing your leg. Fernando watched as you made rounds, greeting people and old men, other drivers that were your friends and their wives or girlfriends. You eventually made your way to Fernando, and he proudly waited for you when you walked up to him, the most beautiful smile adorning your lips and eyes shining just as much as the diamonds on your earrings.
“You’re beautiful, mariposa.” Fernando whispered.
“Thank you, you look handsome too. Love me a man in a tuxedo.” You whispered back conspiratorially, winking at him.
You two chatted for a little, watching the people around. You told him everything you did during summer break after you two parted ways in Mallorca. When the slow music started, you watched the couples getting to the dancefloor.
“Nano, can we dance?” You asked. He just stiffened, face unsure.
“Hm, I’m not sure.”
“Nobody will mind, we’re teammates,” you shrugged.
“I don’t think it's a good idea,” He looked at your face, still staring longingly at the couples slow dancing on the dancefloor. Yearning for something he couldn’t give you.
“Mhm…” You hummed, disappointed. You stood there silent for a couple more minutes, watching the dancefloor. Fernando imagined dancing with you, having you in his arms, listening to your voice, your hand on his shoulder. You cleared your throat for a second, “I’m gonna get a drink.”
You didn’t wait for his response, leaving with long strides to the bar, the opposite side. Fernando’s eyes never left you, he watched as you got a drink and sipped a little, sitting on a bar stool. Some people stopped to greet you quickly. At some point, Charles Leclerc stopped you, whispering something that made you giggle a little, then he offered you a hand, probably inviting you to dance, but you refused politely. You grabbed a second drink and turned on the stool, nursing your drink and still watching the party go on.
You wanted to dance with him, not anyone else.
Eventually, the party died down, and Fernando got close to you again, whispering in your ear to meet him in the most discreet parking lot and then he left. You watched his back as he made his way out. Downing whatever was left of your drink, you stood up, making a quick route to say goodbye to everyone.
Finally, you met Fernando in the car. He had driven himself in his expensive car.
As he drove away in the middle of the night, he put his hand on your thigh under the slit of the dress. You honestly wanted to jump him, to make him stop the car anywhere and just get into it.
Quietly making into his hotel room, you kicked your high heels off and kissed him, not giving him any second before deepening the kiss, pressing your body to his.
“Wait,” he managed to croak out. You took a step back. He went into his luggage and picked a small box, handing it to you, “I know your birthday was two weeks ago, but since I didn’t see you- well, happy birthday.”
“You didn’t have to…” you whispered, opening the box to a beautiful and delicate necklace with a gold butterfly pendant with small diamonds all around the wings, “it’s so beautiful, Fernando.”
“Not as much as you, Mariposa.” He whispered back, taking the necklace, placing you in front of the full body mirror and standing behind you and locking the necklace around your neck.
“Thank you”
He kissed your neck, running a hand down your arm, then kissing your shoulders while pulling the hair pins out of your hair, letting your hair free. He kept leaving hot wet kisses on your skin, calling you “hermosa” and “my mariposa” all while unzipping your dress slowly. You let him do whatever, his hands pushing the corset out until the fabric pooled around your ankles kicking it away too, and you stood in nothing but panties and the necklace.
You gasped, staring at your reflection on the mirror and him behind you, his rough fingertips running over your side, getting to your front and cupping your boobs. You felt soft as his fingers pinched your nipples, making you moan softly.
“You ready to take me?” He asked against your ears.
“Please, Nano,” you moaned his name the way you only said it when you were alone and getting intimate.
“Foot there,” he pointed to a chair. You did as he said, one leg up so he could have better access to your panties.
He pressed his chest to your back, fingers sliding inside your panties to feel your obscene wetness dampening the fabric. His fingers slid right over your clit, spreading your juices all around, before diving into your cunt. You moaned, head lolling back against his shoulder, as he pleasured you nonstop. You had been turned on even since the gala, and the ride to the hotel had been pure torture not being touched. So it didn’t take much for him to build you up, his thumb brushing your clit. Your moaning got louder and with the way he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close.
And so he stopped, making you whine. He just chuckled.
“Nano! I was so close!” You pouted.
“Needy girl, get on the bed,” he pointed again, like an order, “you’re cumming around my cock first.”
You sat on the bed slowly, still reeling from almost orgasming. You watched as Fernando started undressing in front of you, so you just ran both hands from his chest down to his thighs, fingers barely touching the straining erection in his pants.
“Don’t get greedy now. Wait.”
With his words, you stopped touching him, leaning back so you could watch him undress. When he finally got rid of all clothing, he leaned, kissing your stomach and up your boobs, mouthing your nipples as his hands pulled your panties, letting you lay down on the edge of the bed. You held his head against your nipples, his eyes finding yours through his eyelashes. 
When you were both fully naked, he just held your legs open and sank into your cunt, making you moan loud as you back rose up from the bed.
“Nano- oh, fuck!” You moaned, and pulled by his neck to kiss you.
He kissed you back slowly, patiently contrasting your desperate hands on his shoulder, crawling up his neck, fingertips sinking into his soft hair, as he fucked you slowly, pressing you deliciously into the bed, one hand firmly on the bedrest and the other holding your neck, pressing until you were cumming, his lips sucking hickeys into your skin.
You two were cuddling quietly when you decided to say what you’ve been thinking about ever since Mallorca.
“We should go on a date, Fernando. Take the next step, I really like what we have.”
You could feel him stiffening against you, and you closed your eyes, afraid of what his response would be.
“We can’t, mariposa. You are way younger than me,” He said somberly, “and we’re teammates. This would be too messy for the both of us, but especially for you, who is just starting your career.”
“I don’t mind if that’s the price I need to pay to have you.”
“We can’t take this kind of risk for something we don’t even know it’s real.”
That squeezed your heart and made you angry with his denial.
“Fernando, this is real- You know that!”
“Calling a cab to take you to your hotel,” he said standing up and picking his phone. His tone was cold, detached from you, like you were just some toy for him to have fun with, and now you served your purpose.
“Don’t be like that, Fernando. This is more than just sex,” you got up, covering yourself with the bedsheet because it felt too vulnerable having this conversation naked.
“We can’t be anymore than that. You’re too young to understand.” He said not looking at you.
There was a lump on your throat rapidly forming. He knew you hated when people treated you like you were dumb because you were young.
“Please let us just talk about it-”
“There’s nothing to talk about. This means nothing! Nada!” He exclaimed.
“You don’t mean that. Don’t be a jerk.” Your voice was already wavering.
You stared at his back as he turned around, going to the opposite side of the room, your tears started falling down.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He finally said but still didn’t look at you.
“I’m already hurt,” you said, picking up your panties from the floor hastily putting them on, realizing how Fernando had helped you with your dress, so you just picked up one of his sweaters and dressed, “do you want me or do you not?”
“I don’t want you.”
“You’re missing good things in life because of fear. Just take the fucking jump, Fernando.”
The next thing he heard was the slamming door behind you.
When he walked back, he noticed you had left the butterfly necklace on the table. Holding the necklace against the palm of his hand, he wondered if he did the right thing or just lost the best thing in his life.
You didn’t text or called him. And he didn’t either. Eventually he texted you, to tell you had “forgot” the necklace, to test the waters.
“You’re the only one who calls me mariposa. This necklace has no meaning to me if you’re not in my life.”
His mind would often wander back to Mallorca, to those few days you and him lived in paradise. Sleeping late, waking up even later, then making love lazily under the sun, sunbathing naked by the pool, and cooking together, training together. There was never silence with you, since you were always talking or singing or playing loud music.
And he missed it. As the weeks progressed and the more race weeks came, you didn’t try to talk to him about the two of you. You were still polite and talkative, usually filling his silence with stories, talks about the track and strategies. You still knocked on his helmet three times before every race, probably a pre race ritual by now.
He missed you. He missed not only the feel of your cunt around his cock, but he missed your loudness, and your laugh. He missed the light in your eyes that was slowly darkening each passing day. Like you were losing hope he would come around and change his mind.
The last race of the season, he was a little late from a meeting, so you were already getting in the car when he came out. Your visor was up, so you just looked at him, and knocked your own helmet three times as a sign to him, who did the same gesture back to you.
By around ⅔ of the race, there was an accident and the red flag was called.
It took maybe two or three minutes until all cars stopped on the pitlane, lined up under the red flag. As Fernando climbed out of the car, he turned around, looking for you, removing his helmet, guard and balaclava, he went inside the garage.
“Where’s Mariposa?” He asked, to one in particular. But then his eyes landed in Martha, your PT, and her eyes were watery as she pointed to the screen.
A sinking feeling expanded in his stomach as he saw your car, that now looked like an unrecognizable wreckage. He dropped his helmet, covering his mouth with a hand. The marshals were all around your burning car, various people with fire extinguishers, trying to lower the fire enough to pull you out.
“Has she responded yet? Did she say anything?” Fernando asked without removing his eyes from the screen.
“No,” Somebody said, somberly.
“She’ll be fine,” Fernando assured, probably trying to convince himself, and his rapid heartbeat. He had seen and had been in many ugly crashes, and in the end, the driver had come out unscathed. He was sure you could manage, you were very strong and stubborn.
When the fire died down enough, a couple of marshals pulled you out, and Fernando’s heart felt like it was stopping as they pulled you out unconscious. The marshals made a small shield around you and carried you to the ambulance.
Looking around, Fernando finally noticed how everyone was horrified by the crash, and all the drivers around seemed pale and worried. It took a couple of minutes for the FIA to decide to keep the race going, setting it to restart 15 minutes later.
“Fernando,” someone called, and he turned to be faced with George and Alex, who were your closest friends on the grid, “any news on her?”
“Not yet,” he paused, trying really hard to not freak out, “Mike went to the hospital with her.”
“That was ugly,” Alex muttered gloomily.
The tree of them stayed silent, eyes on the screen where a replay of your crash. It was probably a mechanical issue, since you were in high speed when the tyres locked, and you visibly couldn’t brake, going straight into the barriers, full force.
“Will-” George started but his voice failed a little and he cleared his throat, “will she be ok?”
“Yes. She’ll be ok.” Fernando said, not only to calm down the two young drivers, but also to convince himself, since no other option was acceptable in his mind.
You had to be fine.
“Fuck it,” Fernando went inside his room, changing quickly into more casual clothes, as he came out, the team was confused, “I’m sorry, but I have to check on her. Martha, come with me.”
He left knowing he would face terrible consequences with the FIA, not only for not going back to the race, but also because he avoided the press to go to the hospital you were taken to.
On the car, on the way to the hospital they had taken you to, his phone rang, and it was Mike, who had been the first one to go with you to the hospital. Fernando supposed Mike would want to tear him a new one for abandoning the race.
But no. Mike wanted to update him, telling you had a concussion that had knocked you out on the spot, inside the car. They were going to check if you had any more injuries with scans and tests.
By the time he got to the hospital, he met with Mike, and with Vince, your friend and manager, they said you were still unconscious and going through all the examinations necessary. The doctors wanted to see if you didn’t have any internal bleeding or fractures. They kept you unconscious during urgent care, hoping you would wake up after the tests and after the meds wear off.
Fernando sat in the waiting room unmoved, his fear eating him inside every minute you had not woken up yet. Martha was tearful the whole time, while Vince was making calls right and left, he got in touch with your family and closest friends. Alberto showed up around an hour after to pick Fernando up to go back to the hotel.
“I am not leaving,” Fernando said.
“Fernando, there’s nothing you can do. Vince said she will probably wake up late morning tomorrow, we can just-”
“I will not leave.”
Fernando’s words left no space for debate. He didn’t have any commitments for the next week. So he stayed after everyone left, waiting for news on his mariposa. He could barely drink the coffee because his stomach was churning with the lack of news. In the middle of the night, finally they finished the tests and they put you in a room.
After bribing his way inside, Fernando was able to get into your room and see you. You were sleeping, looking peaceful in that hospital bed, using an oxygen inhaler.
“Why does she need oxygen?” He asked the nurse checking on you.
“Here it says she inhaled some smoke before the fire was put off,” the woman explained, reading your chart.
“She will be alright, isn’t she?” He asked, his tone audibly worried. The nurse sighed, as if she didn’t want to say her next words.
“We can’t tell just yet. For now the scans and tests show she is fine, but we can only tell for sure after she wakes up.”
She left Fernando behind with dread consuming his every thought.
As he stared at your unconscious body on the bed, he couldn’t help but remember when you slept with him in Mallorca. Your naked body tangled with the blankets, hair splayed on the pillows and tanned limbs looking for him even in sleep, hugging him and keeping him in bed with you longer than he usually did. He sat by the bed, hand holding yours, running his thumb over your cold knuckles.
The remorse was eating him alive. You had to be alright. You had to wake up soon and laugh at his worried face, joking that you’re tougher than you look. Giving him those eyes. He couldn’t bear not looking at your eyes again, that would break him apart one last time.
Because you could have been his the whole time. He could have slept with you in his arms more often than not. He could have been stealing your kisses in dark corners and going out for dinner after late team meetings. He could’ve received random cute selfies from you throughout his day. He could’ve whispered “I love you” into your skin every night. Only he didn’t.
His last words to you were “I don’t want you” and he couldn’t take it if those were his last words for you ever. He never let himself admit to you that he had fallen. That he was absolutely crazy for you, that he loved you even before you ever kissed him.
He was about to spiral in guilt when your sister arrived in the early morning. She visibly didn’t expect Fernando there, holding her sister’s hand.
“I just talked to the doctor,” Mila, your sister, muttered.
“He said the meds will wear off later today,” Fernando said.
“You can go rest now, come back later.” Mila offered. Didn’t sound like she wanted him specifically out, but more out of worry.
“No, I- I want to stay until she’s awake.”
“Fernando, she wouldn’t want you to wear yourself thin because of her,” The way Mila said the words, it left a little unsaid.
“You know?” Was all he asked. Do you know about us? What do you think? What did she say about me? But Mila just nodded, she didn’t look judgemental.
“I know.”
He was about to leave to at least shower and eat something before coming back. As Mila got closer to your sleeping form, Fernando stood back and your sister touched your hand. Then she knocked three times on the bedside table. Fernando frowned.
“Why did you do that?” He asked Mila.
“When we were kids in karting, Dad used to do that to our helmets before races, each knock means a word. ‘I love you’, and with time it just became a silly habit of hers,” Mila explained.
Fernando’s heart twisted inside, eyes watering.
Knock. I. Knock. Love. Knock. You.
You had been doing the knocks to him for months, even before the summer break.
He left the room without a word, breathing in and out to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He wasn’t an emotional man by any means, but the knowledge that you have been loving him for so long, broke his heart.
After going back to the hotel to shower and eat, he went knocking in Alberto’s room when he noticed he didn’t have his phone anywhere in sight ever since before the race had started. Like predicted, Alberto had his phone.
In his suite, Fernando unlocked his phone to hundreds of notifications, a lot from other drivers, asking for news about you, since not the Formula 1 or the FIA had released any notes about your condition. After shooting a few answers to the other drivers, he finally saw one notification, saying you had left him a voicemail the day before. From the time stamp, it was a bit before the race.
Wide eyed, he pressed play on the voicemail.
“Hey, I’m about to go out in the car, but I guess I just breathed 10 seconds of courage, well not enough to wait to say it to you face to face,” you giggled nervously, “but what I mean to say is, I love you. Probably not what you wanted to hear, but I do love you. And I know you don’t feel the same, but maybe you could… I don’t know, maybe you could take a chance on me. I know your reservations about the world, but… We should take the jump. I can make you really happy if you let me. And maybe one day you will grow to love me- god, that last part was pathetic- Shit- How do I delete this?” There was noise as if you were struggling with the phone and then someone called your name far away, “one second!” you told the person, “shit, I gotta go. Just please, can we talk over the winter break? I guess what I mean is that-” Then the beep ended the message, cutting your voicemail off.
He pressed play a couple more times, until he could breathe again, your voice offering some sense of peace to his mind. You were willing to have him, even after he kicked you out of his hotel room, even after he pretty much ignored your history all these past few months.
It would be alright. You would wake up, he would tell you he loved you and he was so sorry that he had wasted so much time being afraid of what people may think or how the world might treat you.
Only you didn’t.
You didn’t wake up after the meds wore off. And Fernando, your sister, Vince and Martha were all shocked when the doctor said it was possible you were in a coma.
“Everything seems ok, but she’s not waking up. Sometimes the body takes a little more time to recover from traumas like this.”
“When-” Mila’s voice failed, tears streaming down her face, “when do you believe she could wake up?”
“We can’t pinpoint that with precision,” the doctor answered.
“Get all the tests redone,” Fernando said suddenly, “maybe you missed something.”
“But-”
“I’ll pay for it.”
That’s all he said before leaving and entering a toilet by the waiting room. His chest heaving, he watered his shaky hands to try and calm down. You didn’t wake up. They weren’t sure when or if you would wake up. And, fuck, Fernando had seen that before with Jules, who was comatose for months before passing away.
He remembered the blinding pain of losing a friend and he couldn’t bear losing the love of his life too. Fernando stayed in the stall for a while, trying to calm down his terrified thoughts.
When he went back, your sister was still crying, being comforted by Vince.
“Fernando, can you stay here while we call my family?” Mila asked, and Fernando nodded.
As they left, Fernando sat by your side, holding your hand. With his thumb running over the back of your hand, he looked at your face.
“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered, “I need you here. There’s still so much for you here. Please, I just need you to fight a little more, yes? You have always been stubborn.”
He waited for some kind of miracle, for you to wake up, for your eyes to find him like they always did even in a crowded room.
“When you recover, we will go out, on a proper date, and we’ll dance, like you wanted to. We’ll hold hands and I’ll take you to meet my family.” He kissed the back of your hand softly, “Wake up, Mariposa.”
He stayed there the whole day, letting your sister go find a hotel to stay and get some sleep. Then at night, she came back, assuring Fernando that he should go to sleep too, she knew he was more than a day and a half awake. Back at the hotel, he showered the smell of hospital off and made some calls to take care of his businesses. He texted George and Alex to update them. He also talked to his family, giving updates on his teammate, but not prolonging the chat as to not risk breaking down because of the state his mariposa was in the hospital. Then he went to sleep after a quick dinner, exhausted enough to sleep fairly quickly.
He managed to sleep the whole night, going in and off dreams of you, his brain probably too worried to really forget, even unconscious. He woke up at dawn, going back to the hospital so your sister could leave to rest.
Fernando checked on you first thing, and you were still unconscious, but your sister was on the phone talking to your parents, so he just left to give her a little privacy. He went into the cafeteria and drank a small cup of coffee.
As he went back, he noticed how agitated Vince looked on the phone right outside your room.
“Vince, what happened?” He asked, dreading that the worse had happened in the few minutes he was away.
“She woke up!”
Fernando’s eyes welled up with tears as he opened the door.
“-No, no, don’t talk just yet. Let’s wait for the doctor,” you sister said to you, then both of them looked at Fernando, who looked rooted to the spot, “Fernando! She woke up!” Your sister said through happy tears.
Your sister hugged again, kissing your head, whispering how she loved you all while Fernando stood there, trying to will his limbs to move. Then the doctor and a nurse came, asking you all to leave so he could examine you.
He waited outside as your sister went on the phone with the good news to your family again. Then the doctor came out, announcing you were looking good, and apparently no sequelae but they would still keep you for a few more days for close examination and to make sure everything was alright.
Barely registering anything, Fernando just entered your room, and you smiled at him. You smiled. Your eyes shining bright like you had just woken up from a simple nap.
And then he cried. Fully cried for the first time since the accident, like the relief of seeing you alive and well broke the dam of the tears he had been trying to hold back. And he could breathe again. Covering his face with both hands, he tried to get himself in control but he only stopped when he heard you.
“Na-” your voice was hoarse, “-no.”
“No, don’t talk yet. The nurse said your throat might feel a little dry.” He managed to subside his tears enough to talk.
When he sat down on the chair, you lifted your hand to hold his face. You were still a bit weak, but you wiped his face of the tears. He held your hand with both of his, kissing your palm.
“You gave us quite the scare,” Fernando said with a small smile. You smiled back, looking sleepy, “I thought I was going to lose you.”
You shook your head minimally but your eyes had that mischievous glint, like you were thinking of a silly joke about how tough you actually are.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you think I don’t love you, when I really do. I have for the longest time. We’ll make it work, however you want,” he just dumped the words, not wanting to lose another precious second not being yours, “soy tuyo, Mariposa. Te amo, mi amor.”
You just held his hand, squeezing it slowly three times. I. Love. You.
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Pairing: Yandere!Alastor x Reader
SFW
Word Count: 2'627
Warnings: Yandere behaviour, Implied forced relationship, Implied captivity, Toxic relationship, Possessiveness, Invasion of personal space, Non-consensual touching.
Additional Notes: Do be kind, I have not written for this man before and find him exceedingly difficult.
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Every week at the Hotel, there was something new Charlie had planned.
Trust exercises. Ice breakers. Activities meant to bring everybody closer together as a group. To try and get people to open up and show a side of vulnerability that - she believed - would help sinners take one step closer to salvation.
Most of them were awkward, and a lot of them never went as planned. A fact she realized and, after a near mental breakdown, had her promptly take advice from Vaggie and agree to try something different.
The task was very simple compared to the previous activities. She requested everybody to think about redemption and what it meant to them.
Thinking about the definition itself took little to no effort.
Redemption (noun): The action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.
But it was clear that Charlie wanted more than just a quote from the dictionary. She wanted residents of the Hotel to mull over it while looking deep down into themselves so they could share their stance on the matter later on.
That was the tricky part.
From how you saw it, “saving yourself” from sin was easy enough to accomplish. ‘Just don’t be a dick and avoid the bad shit.’ was the first thought that came to mind, but where you hit a snag was based on what Charlie had shared about Heaven. According to her, even so much as breathing in Hell was enough to solidify your place in the inferno, yet she made it clear that actively resisting sin wasn’t something to go unrecognized.
It took a lot of effort, energy, and courage to do so, and it was hard to disagree even if Heaven didn’t see it that way.
Error was a bit harder. In your opinion, nobody could be saved from that, at least not entirely. Eventually, inevitably, you or someone else would do something wrong, it was just a matter of degree. It could be something as minor as bumping into somebody by accident or as major as Angel relapsing for what felt like the hundredth time, but it would happen and it was only a matter of time.
Charlie did bring up a rather good point, though. Apologizing when you realized you had done something wrong was the best thing someone could do, and it was the first step in the right direction.
You had to give her credit where it was due for that.
But evil was a different matter entirely.
Evil lurked everywhere in Hell. Across every street, around every corner, evil was out in the open for everyone to bear witness and see. None of it was hidden. None of it was meant to be hidden.
What would be the point? You and every other sinner were already in Hell - and many would argue that hiding it would be counterintuitive to being there in the first place.
Charlie tried to plead the case that everyone had good in them. A good that could be tweezed out if given the right chance, and the right environment, which the Hotel was perfect for.
You wish you could agree.
Evil was in the hotel itself, not that Charlie was fully willing to see it.
You believed she was careless there. Little Miss Bleeding Heart wanted to see the best in people, and by god did you ever want to know what it was like to see through such rose-tinted glasses, but you knew you never could. Not in this place.
Stepping a foot into the building was the worst thing you’d ever done because it showed you just how wrong you were about evil being so out in the open. It still had the ability to lurk, something you learned the moment you shook hands with Alastor.
You could see it on his face upon meeting him for the first time - the way Alastor’s perpetual grin widened upon seeing the goosebumps that lined your arms when he clasped your hand in his. No comment was ever made on the matter, but the way his lips peeled back to reveal the black of his gums before he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles said enough.
Something utterly sinister reeked from him in a manner you couldn’t describe, so you took your own advice and applied the same thing you did when it came to sin.
Avoidance. As much as you could, at least.
Some moments were easier than others. The distinct metallic clack of Alastor’s microphone against the floor combined with a surge of radio static usually bought enough time for you to make whatever excuse you needed in order to leave before he arrived.
Other times you weren’t so lucky, and Charlie’s group meetings were usually to blame in that regard.
At first, you made a great deal of effort to put as much distance between yourself and the Radio Demon as you could, which worked for a time. Unfortunately, Alastor caught onto what you were doing much faster than you would’ve liked.
He reveled in it. You knew he did. After a while you had the gnawing suspicion he was purposefully going out of his way to make you as uncomfortable as possible for his own entertainment. You saw no other reason as to why he’d consistently move so close to you that you could literally feel him breathing down your neck.
Lately, he had adopted the skin-crawling habit of locking eyes with you the moment you stepped foot in the room and patting the seat beside him - reserved specifically for you. Accepting the gesture felt like swallowing nails, but being openly rude to Alastor was something that you knew better than to do.
Instead, you began to find excuses for skipping the meetings entirely and have Angel or Husker fill you in later, which was exactly what you were doing now.
“To be honest I wasn’t payin’ much attention,” Angel said while he scrolled through his phone, resting his chin in his upper left hand while his lower right swirled alcohol around in a glass. “Was the kind of thing that could’ve been sent in an email.”
You traced your finger around the rim of your own glass, its contents untouched. “Still, I want to know what I missed.”
“He’s right, it wasn’t anything special,” Husker replied, slinging a cloth over his shoulder from behind the bar. “Same old bullshit about salvation with a new coat of paint on top.”
A pang went through your chest, but you pushed it down. “So nothing new?”
Angel scoffed and looked up from his phone. “Trust me, dollface, you did yourself a favor.” He downed the rest of his drink in one go. “What were you doing anyways?”
“You know…” You replied with a shrug, glancing down. “I went out.”
Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Out?”
“Yeah.” You tapped your nails against the edge of the glass. “Things were feeling a little claustrophobic, so I went out for some air.”
Husker made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, I know how you feel, kid. This place is a mess.”
Angel tilted his head, placing his phone down on the bar and leaning forward a bit. “So where’d you go? Anywhere fun?”
“Where indeed~.”
All your movements went rigid. After a few seconds, you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder to see Alastor standing barely a foot away from you, staring down at you with a tight, closed-lipped smile. You hadn’t heard him coming in the slightest, which you immediately could tell was intentional.
Whether he’d used his shadow or had actually stalked up behind you wasn’t something you wanted to think about, and if Angel or Husker picked up on the immediate tension, neither of them said anything about it.
“Hey, Smiles.” Angel greeted with his usual flirtation, placing the elbows of his upper arms on the bartop as he turned to face Alastor. “Fancy a drink? You look a little stiff” He gave Alastor a very long once over, “and I’ll have you know I know a few ways I can help relieve some… tension.” 
Alastor’s lips curled back to reveal his teeth, the muscle in his cheek spasming for a moment.
Mentally you were kissing Angel on the cheek for the save as you slowly picked your coat up off the bar and slipped it on, concealing the goosebumps already present on your skin. Husker gave you a glance from the side and gave a very slight shake of his head, silently advising you against your unspoken desire to leave.
“I assure you, such a thing is never going to happen.~”
“You sure?” Angel rested his lower right arm on his hip. “I have a few tricks that can loosen you up.”
The leather in Alastor’s gloves audibly squeaked as his grip tightened around the staff of his microphone and his attention immediately shifted back to you, ignoring Angel entirely.
“My dear,” His voice dripped with such a saccharine sweetness it made you feel sick, “Could I speak with you for a moment?”
Fewer combinations of words could instill such a unique feeling of encroaching dread all at once, but you refused to let it show as you nodded and turned your body on the bar stool to face him fully; waiting for him to say the first word.
His eye twitched ever so slightly.
“Privately.”
That made you swallow.
“Sure.” You slid off the bar stool, doing your best not to appear as reluctant as you felt.
“Lovely.~” He said, promptly turning on his heel and walking towards the staircase - expecting you to follow.
You glanced back towards Husker and Angel, each giving you looks of grim sympathy and confusion respectively before you took a deep breath and forced one foot in front of the other, following Alastor up the steps.
You thought he would talk along the way. Engage in some form of idle chit-chat where he’d be pulling the strings, or even hum along to the countless jazz tunes that he played in the halls over the Hotel’s sound system.
But no such music played and he remained silent. A few minutes into the walk you gathered enough courage to glance up at him and found his eyes locked straight forward, not even sparing you so much as a glance.
You averted your gaze, the hem of your sleeves suddenly the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen.
Eventually, he came to a stop, and he held out the end of his microphone to prevent you from going any further down the hallway.
“Here we are!” Rather than producing a key from his coat, a green flash emanated from the lock when he placed his hand on the handle and opened the door.
He all but leered at you as he gave a small bow that didn’t feel genuine in the slightest.
“After you.~”
Like the alleged gentleman he was, Alastor held the door open for you, eyes never leaving your form as you walked inside his suite.
The smell of dampness and soil hit you immediately.
Alastor’s suite wasn’t the worst thing you’d seen in Hell by a mile, however, it was still eerie beyond words. The skeletons that hung along the walls and mantlepiece of his fireplace became less complete and increasingly disorganized as they led further into the room - which itself gave way to a swamp-like environment halfway through. Undoubtedly a result of whatever hoodoo, voodoo bullshit he was capable of, and while it still wasn’t the worst you’d seen, it served its purpose thoroughly.
It creeped the shit out of you.
“Now, then.” Alastor clicked the door shut, his body half-facing yours as his hand still lingered on the doorknob. “I'm sure you have a good explanation for what you’ve been doing.~”
The immediate dryness in your throat was hard to ignore. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew that he knew, but you still attempted to buy some time as you tried to figure out what to do.
You cleared your throat. “I was just catching up with Angel and Husk-”
He chuckled, the sound like that of a radio shifting stations. “Don’t be coy.” His head turned towards you with a sickening, ossified crackle that bent his neck in a manner that made your stomach lurch. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I’d like to know why.”
Fuck.
“I haven’t.” Lying to Alastor was a mistake, but you still decided to risk it since it wasn’t entirely false. “There’s just been a lot on my mind recently.”
“Hmm.” Interest and something much worse flickered behind his eyes as he faced you fully with another crack of his vertebrae. “Such as~?”
You shook your head, looking away from him. “That’s private.”
There was a quick flash of red, and the tip of his microphone turned your face back towards him - the cool metal of the edge digging into the skin of your cheek. You had to bite back a grimace.
“Not when it concerns me.” His tone was sharp, a stark contrast to the faux politeness he was putting on before. He kept the tip of his microphone where it was to prevent your eyes from looking anywhere but him. “And trust me darling, when it comes to you, everything concerns me.”
His words twisted in your gut. “...I’m not sure what you mean.”
Alastor tutted, his smile widening once more. “Don’t be stupid, darling, it’s unbecoming of you.” The way he said it was patronizing, like he was scolding a child. “You know precisely what I mean, so I’m going to ask again, as much as I hate repeating myself.~”
Cool metal was replaced with the warmth of his hand as he tilted your head up and brought his face frighteningly close to yours.
“Why are you keeping yourself from me?”
It was an odd sensation. Being backed into a corner, both metaphorically and physically. A frightening one that all but yanked on your instincts to do whatever it meant to get the fuck out of there, but you knew that was the worst thing you could do.
Alastor was a predator, a creature designed to prey on those he deemed weaker, and turning your back on a predator would almost certainly trigger a series of events that would not bode well for you.
So you did the next worst thing.
You told him the truth.
“Because I can see you.” The words felt wrong to say out loud. “I can see you for what you are, I can feel the absolute malevolence that radiates off you in waves, and it’s suffocating.”
Saying any more was a horrendous idea, but you couldn’t help but add one last thing.
“And if I want any chance at leaving this god-forsaken place, I can’t be around you.”
The silence that stretched on afterward was deafening.
Mentally, you were bracing yourself. Alastor had killed people for far less, and you expected nothing different for saying something so daring to his face.
You could see it too, the anger that simmered underneath his gaze. You expected the red of his sclera to flash black and his antlers to extend with his body in a grotesque display before you were ripped to pieces while he laughed.
What you didn’t expect was for his eyes to narrow into slits and his expression shift into one that was far more genuine than you wanted it to be, and it was then you knew that being saved from this kind of evil was never going to happen.
“Oh, my dear, you don’t need to worry about something silly like that.” Alastor all but cooed.
“After all, what makes you think I’d ever let you leave?~”
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thinking about how i just... never complained about anything as an undiagnosed autistic kid. i was dressed in button-down shirts that made me feel like i was choking all day to the point i could only think about that and corduroy pants that filled my ears with nothing but the sound of the fabric rubbing between my thighs all day. i was fed food whose texture made me feel sick. i was scolded for being strange and rude when i was going out of my way to be nice or helpful. 
but i never brought it up. when i had tantrums or cried, it was always about tiny unrelated things that set me off after all the stress had built up. i knew that these experiences were uncomfortable, but seeing no one else around me complain about them just made me assume that life was meant to be kind of painful in those ways. 
even today it barely crosses my mind to tell people when i don’t like something, and i’m quick to accept requests that are actually too much for me because of the idea that everyone else can do it. ironically, most neurotypical people are much better at saying that they don’t want to do something, even when this is often due to something as simple as not feeling like it as opposed to me who is struggling due to sensory, executive function, or socializing issues. 
i wish i had learned earlier that it’s not just good, but also necessary to tell people when something is hurting you. that you’re both allowed and supposed to take action to make life less painful for yourself, especially when that pain isn’t going to earn you anything. i wish i was able to make requests for my own good without automatically feeling guilty for being ‘selfish’. 
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laneywrld · 1 month
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Oh Baby | Lewis Hamilton mini series
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part one.
word count: 7.7k
Warnings: smut, absolute filth. breeding kink
Lewis can't help but want to give his best friend everything she desires. she can have whatever she wants.
You were Lewis' best friend; the world knew it. The world also saw that he admired you in a way he hadn't anyone else.
You'd been in Lewis' life since the two of you were literal babies. Your dad was best friends with Anthony, Lewis' father, so in a way, you two were destined to be the best of mates. 
Sometimes, Lewis wishes he had the chance to meet you organically, but as quickly as that thought flickers through his mind, it is pushed away just as fast.
He would've been alone as a kid if you had come later in his life. But still, meeting you later would've changed the trajectory of your guy's relationship. He wouldn't be stuck in the constant lock of just being your "best friend."
He would continue to stick out his role and push through his torture if it meant you keeping him around.
Since you were kids, you two have been joined at the hip. You were always there to defend him at school when the bullies got to him. You were always down to follow his dreams with him, even if it meant convincing your dad to let you ride with his family to watch him go-karting in the sweltering heat. You were always there. 
You still are, and maybe that's what's got his heart thrumming in his chest as he watches you dance with his brother Nicholas. The two of your hands are entwined as you sway to the music blasting from the speakers.  
As Nicholas twirls you around, your eyes meet Lewis for a brief second, and you smile at him before you are faced with his brother again. You joke with Nicholas as the two of you dance, your head constantly turning to check on Lewis.
He loves how his family is your own and vice versa. He loves how you treat his brother with the same tender love and care that he does. He can't help but to admire everything you do, even if it's just including his brother in something as simple as dancing.
You give him a curious look as you sway with Nicholas. He only grins in return, raising his glass at you. He sees your eyes fleet over his shoulder, and then your mouth pierces together in a knowing smile. You tilt your head to motion behind him, and when he turns to follow your orders, he sees Laura approaching. 
When he turns back to you, you are no longer dancing wildly with his brother but sitting comfortably with your friends, accepting the shot Miles pours for you. 
Lewis shakes his head, turning to greet Laura. He shouldn't feel disappointed and he shouldn't feel an emptiness wallow in his gut at the mere fact that he can't watch you sway in the night. His girlfriend, (if you could even call her that), was approaching and he should be glad to see her, but he can't help but to relish in the fact that'd he'd rather observe you from a distance than be in her presence.
"Hey baby!" she cheers. " I'm sorry I'm late. I got hung up at the agency."
"S'fine." He smiles, embracing the hug. "Let's grab you a drink and then settle in with everyone."
Meanwhile you are trying your best to tame your friends and their instantly sour moods. "C'mon y'all. Be nice to the girl."
"Nice?" Whitney scoffs. "I don't like that lil' girl."
"Whit." You scold, "She's not for us to like; as long as Lew likes her, we support them, yeah?" 
"Whatever," Miles piques up, "She not good enough for my guy?"
Always the wiser one, you shoot miles with a frown that shows your agreeance: "We can think that, but who are we to decide for him? Lew's not an idiot. When the time comes to make the right call, he'll make it, yeah?"
"Yeah." Daniel says, "But the only right call would be you."
You smack your teeth, reaching for another shot. "Here this nigga go on his shit again."
The table erupts in laughter just as Lewis approaches with Laura.
"Guys, you all remember Laura?"
"Do we?" Whit scoffs under her breath, downing a shot. The group breaks into fits of sniggering. You eye them with a look that screams, Act right! before turning to face Lewis and Laura in your seat.
"Laura, hi! girl!" You dragged.
Once again, you shoot your eyes across the group; one by one, they all push out fake ass hellos or a mumbled What's up.
Lew watches on as you turn to him, smiling. He can't help it as his own grows wider.
After the phony greeting, Lewis drags Laura to sit with him. The only open spot is the two-seater across from you. 
Conversation is ablaze in the midst of the circle. You lean forward chatting with Laura for a while since no one else bothered. Lewis has his arm thrown over her shoulder but he is watching you. Like always.
"Oh, so you planned this gathering?" Laura questions.
"Isn't it obvious?" You joke. "Lew could never." You motion to the lights and grand decor located around the yard.
"Oh, please." Lewis smacks his teeth.
"Admit it, Lew. It's my thing. Tell me I did good."
"You did great." He smirks, leaning back, his legs spread in a way that has you ready to drool.
You divert your eyes, sitting back in your own seat.
"Y/N's so domestic, it's giving wife."
You squint your eyes at Whit, giving her the ultimate stink face.
"You're always going to be the stepmum to us Laura. We can't separate mum and dad." Mori speaks up.
There was an ongoing joke in your friend group that had been circling for years. You and Lewis were Mum and Dad, you two paired together so well that it was like watching the perfect marriage. Your friends referred to you as each others "hubby" and "wifey".
Still, your friends were beginning to get out of pocket, and you turned to Lewis expecting him to put an end to their shenanigans like any good dad would. He only smiles at you his eyebrows wiggling in a playful manner.
You feel your cheeks burn as he doesn't deny it.
"She is quite domestic, would make the perfect wife." Miles piques up from beside Lewis.
It's a scheme that you two were left out of, a plan made to force you two to realize your feelings for each other.
His words trinkle into Lewis' mind. He's always thought you'd make the perfect wife. He's thought about marrying you seriously plenty of times. It's also been a childhood dream of his to make it official, especially after having your own wedding ceremony at the playground under the monkey bars, commemorated by strawberry ring-pops and sand confetti that had both of your parents grumbling as they scrubbed your scalps clean that night.
He's only ever told Miles this, but he wishes he never got seriously involved that first time at all. He thinks he did it out of pure irrationality. You had your first serious boyfriend, and Lewis thought well shit. To him it seemed as though you'd never be that into him. So he spent seven years on and off with a woman he was unsure about when all he really wanted was you. He's wasted so much time.
He thinks back to the times where distance sprouted between you two. Nicole didn't like how close the two of you were, and you respected it even if he didn't want you to. He feels a bit like a dickhead thinking of all the times he lied to his ex telling her you were nothing more than a friend to him. It was obviously a lie. If it wasn't a lie he wouldn't have spent majority of his relationship trying to make you realize what it was you were missing. Hint: it obviously didn't work, or you'd be the girl under his arm right now.
"I'll be back in a few," you announce, standing from your seat. I'm going to go do my rounds. Give Lew a break." Lewis' stare was beginning to get intense, you could feel your little resolve crumbling the longer her stared into your soul.
He watches you stroll over to his dad and your dad, stepping in between them and wrapping your arms around their waist. He can't read your lips but can tell that whatever you said had the two doubled over in laughter. You pat their backs, trekking over to your next target.
You're a little ways away, refilling wine glasses at the "mum table." His mum has you saying something that leads to you smooching the top of her head as you pass by. You set the bottle on the table before suspiciously eyeing your mother and opting to pull it to the other end. Lewis lets out a chuckle, watching your antics.
It'd been awkward silence covering the group like a blanket since you'd left. Everyone watching Lewis, watch you.
You had convinced Lew to buy this house, practically begged him all of those years ago. "Lew, the backyard," you had marveled, hands outstretched at your sides. "Imagine hosting out here." You had gone on a rant, dragging him across each area of the yard and throwing out ideas for gatherings that didn't even exist.
He closed the deal that same day. He was glad he listened to you as he watched you light some sparklers for the group of kids. He watches you crouch down to his nephew's level, pressing him against your front as you direct the sparkler into his hand. 
He couldn't see your face but could tell you were muttering words of encouragement into his ear. 
You stand with a proud grin when he twirls the stick around confidently. 
You turn as a small child tugs on your dress, "I'm thirsty, Auntie y/n/n."
You coo, picking up your friend's child. "Hi, mama! let's fix that for you." You pop her onto your hip, waltzing into the house from the open patio doors. She runs out moments later, a juice box snug in her hands. You follow after, arms full of the very same juice.
You crouch down as the children huddle around you. You poke each straw through the hole before passing them out one by one.
"Look at Mama Bear." Whit laughs as her eyes follow Lewis' line of sight. He is watching you with a smile and that classic sparkle in his eye that he always seems to have when it comes to you.
"She'd make a great mum, huh?" Lewis rasps out. 
You're back at the fire pit before you know it.
"Yeah, Mori, you should totally let me kidnap your child next weekend."
"Have her girl, she's all yours." She scoffs, "badass little girl."
The group laughs, but Lewis can't help but notice the gloom flash over your face before it quickly washes away.
He knows about your desire to have a family. He remembers how you opened up to him about it after your last relationship ended, and you took it worse than you ever had before.
He remembers that day like it was yesterday.
You were a drunken, blubbering mess, sitting on his couch with puffy eyes and a blotchy face. "Ugh!" you groaned, reaching for the bottle to pour yourself another glass. He beats you to it, pulling it away and setting it down on the table at the end of the couch.
"Hey," he coos, his hand pulling you into his side as your lip wobbles. You can't help the outburst of tears for what feels like the 100th time.
"Let's talk about it, yeah? That might help a bit."
You had been friends for so long, and not once had he seen you this distraught. In fact, you were the one comforting him most of the time.
"I hate him," you whined, reaching up to cover your face. He got me over here looking stupid."
"Hey," he pulls your hand down, still holding you against him, just holding your hand down at your side as well. "Don't be embarrassed for feeling, ain't that what you tell me?"
"Yeah," you shudder.
"Now, talk to me."
"I wanted kids. I don't think i'm that hurt about him you know?" you don't give him time to answer, "I just feel like I'm not meant to be with someone, like love is not for me. Sometimes it seems like everyone has a person out there for them but me. I want a family of my own. I love my family and yours, but it's different." you cry harder then.
"I want a human to love unconditionally, I want babies, and I want to be a mom; I would make a great mumma."
"You would." He hums, his free hand coming up to wipe your face. You pull away turning to face him, your legs are crossed in front of you and he reaches forward grasping both of your hands in his. 
He has one leg propped under the other, and his body is turned to face you. The way he's looking at you makes you want to break down into another fit of tears. No one pays attention to you as much as Lewis.
"Is there something wrong with me?" You ask, and you sound so broken that Lewis is fighting off tears of his own.
"You're perfect." He assures, and his hold on your hands grows tighter. "There's someone out there who loves you whole. Through and through, you hear me? There's nothing wrong with you, just the wrong people you've come across. You're going to get all that you want one day. He was an idiot anyway. What happened anyway, huh? What made him-."
"I left him." you interrupted, "which is crazy that i'm crying over him this bad but I could feel a disconnect between us, we were too different, didn't have the same end goal."
"You know what's beautiful about this?"
You look up to him with a baffled expression to say what the actual fuck is beautiful about being an emotional mess. He chuckles, swiping one hand against your wet cheek, where he settles his palm to cup your face. 
"One day, when you get what you desire, you're going to appreciate it a whole lot more because of how much you had to go through to get it."
And if Lewis wasn't a scary idiot, he swore he'd given you a kid right there and then, hell, however many you wanted. He's always had a soft spot for you, giving you anything you could have remotely even thought about wanting. You mention wanting to visit Brazil, bam, you're on his private jet whisked away, you want a yard to throw family gatherings, the deed is signed. You complain about wanting specific cupcakes from your favorite bakery, he was out of town but it was nothing to have his assistant travel across town to place them at your door. The point is, he'd give you anything in a second. He's good for it and he'd give you his baby if you really truly wanted.
You look up to Lewis the same memory flowing through both of your minds, he shoots you a tiny smile, raising his glass in your direction. You return his expression sipping from your freshly filled wine glass. 
Your smile blows him away; he can never control the way his heart lurches; you'd think after years and years, your charm would lose its effect on him, but somehow, they grow stronger and stronger as each day passes by.
He doesn't know how long his group of friends sit around the fire pit laughing and chattering along (you including Laura every chance you get, seeing as your other friends seem to have forgotten she exists.) Before he knows it his father is approaching. "Son, there's a million sleeping kids all over your house, I think that's our queue to pack it up."
At that announcement you guys' friends begin to pack themselves up. Lewis says his goodbyes. The group sniggers as Anthony shoots a "Nice meeting you Lauren."
"He called me Lauren," she pouts, "and I've met him before."
"Don't pay it any mind," you speak up balancing an armful of empty glasses, "he's got a bad memory."
You scold your friends, shooing them off as Lewis apologizes to Lauren, Laura.
After a while the house is empty and you say the goodbyes in place of Lewis. As you load the dishwasher you see them bicker back and forth through the large window. 
You close the door, pressing start, deciding to stop evading their private conversation. You connect to Lewis' speaker, soft melodies bleeding through the house as you go room to room, collecting any foreign object that doesn't belong. You sit with Roscoe for a while after refilling his bowl, giving him kisses and rubs until his body vibrates with snores and then you are up and at it again finding anything to tidy.
You sing quietly to yourself you huff wiping the imaginary dust onto your dress. Just as you're going to sneak from the home, Lewis' voice halts you in your tracks.
"You're leaving?" His eyes are furrowed, and his face is scrunched up.
"I- uh yeah, I didn't know how long the two of you were going to be."
"You're not staying the night?"
Your eyes flicker between Lewis and Laura, "Um, no." you chuckle hoping he'd catch the hint.
As much as you loved Lewis and spending time with him, that love didn't cover listening to him fuck the brains out of his current fling.
"She's not staying," Lewis speaks up.
You are still frozen by the door, your hand holding onto the handle. You peek at Laura, her face covered in disdain.
Your mouth drops open and then closed, trying to figure out the words to articulate your desire to leave in order to avoid whatever weird tension is brewing.
"Bye, Lewis." Laura bites, her long legs striding past you quickly. You move to the side, and she slips through the door without saying so much as a word to you.
"Ooh," you whistle, watching as the door frame rattles from the intensity of the close.
"What's her problem?"
"Your friends are bitches Lew." He mocks in a whiny voice.
You laugh, clutching your chest, "They're a bit rude." 
"Yeah," he sighs.
"For good cause," you continue.
"Yeah."
"I mean, I don't like the girl either, but as long as you don't mind what she did then-."
"You staying." Lewis interrupts. He really didn't feel like talking about Laura, especially since he was alone in your presence for the first time today; it was all he wanted for his birthday.
It'd been three weeks since he last saw you, and while the two of you talked on the phone and texted every single day, it'd never compare to actually being in your space. 
You groan as he puckers out his bottom lip, giving you his signature puppy dog eyes that always seem to convince you to do whatever he's asking for.
"Only because it's your birthday, and these heels hurt my feet so much, I don't really think I can drive."
"Oh please," Lewis laughs, "don't act like you don't wanna spend time with me. Excuses, excuses, excuses."
You waddle over to him, grasping onto his waiting arm as you bend at your knees to free your aching feet from said heels.
He takes the shoes from your hand, leading you up the stairs. 
As the two of you approach his bedroom, you feel your excitement boil over.
When he opens the door, you speak up, "I figured what'd be a good gift for someone who literally has enough money to buy whatever he wanted. Then I remembered how much you miss home while you're away and came to the conclusion that money could never bring that kind of comfort."
Lewis sniffles as he looks at the array of gifts spread over his bed. 
There is a stuffed Roscoe and Coco, a scrapbook that you'd dug into the archives to fill, letters from his family, your family, your friends, and an array of letters from you. Flowers, because to you, he deserved his more than anyone walking. You'd recreated his favorite ever birthday gift to him, a knit cheetah that you had your grandma help crochet with you for weeks before his seventh birthday. It's safe to say the OG had gone through a lot over the years. And finally, his first helmet from his carting career. He remembers his parents not being able to afford his helmet after buying him a game console for his birthday.
He remembers how upset he was but understanding of his parent's situation. He also remembers you leaving his party that night, face set in as much determination as it could be for a kid. The next day, you popped up with your dad shoving a brand new helmet adorned in a purple sticky bow into his arms. It'd been so many years since he'd last seen the helmet; as a teen, he'd gotten rid of so many things he considered to be junk, the helmet being one. But the older he got, the more he realized just how sentimental stuff like that was.
"You don't understand how hard I had to search through my Granny's attic for that. She always figured you'd want that back one day, pulled it right out of your yard sale that day."
Off to the side were stacked shoe boxes, a box from his jeweler, and a few designer bags.
He throws his arms over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest; he nestles his head atop of yours before he cranes to press multiple kisses to your hairline. "You're my favorite person in the whole world, know that, right?" He rasps.
"You wrap your arms around his waist pulling him in closer. "I love you Lew, happy birthday. You deserve it all."
You don't know how long the two of you stand their wrapped in each other's embrace before you part. 
"You can shower in here; I'll hop in the guest."
"Unzip me?"
You turn giving him your back to face, you feel his hand reach up to gently swipe your hair over your shoulder, you shiver as his finger tips glide against the skin of your neck.
"I'm gonna unclip your necklace first," he announces, and his voice is raspier than usual. He gulps as he pinches at the golden clasp, reaching one hand around your front to catch the dainty piece of jewelry.
He places it into you waiting palm, and feels his hands get clammy as he holds onto your hip for leverage. Holding you into place as his other hand glides the zipper down your back. His mouth waters and his heart hammers at the sight of your glowy skin being reveled to him.
You hold the dress up at the front, staring at him from the mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and there is such a charged tension lingering between the two of you. There are no words spoken as the two of you revel in each others presence. Both of his hands are now on your hips as you fell yourself subtly lean back into him. His chains cool your back as you sink into him. 
You smile at him through the mirror, "I really did miss you, but I have to shower. I'm sweaty, and I've been chasing kids around all day."
He chuckles, nudging you away but not before leaning over your shoulder, craning his neck in order to place a lingering kiss on your cheek that is almost too close to the corner of your mouth.
"Go shower, stinky."
You roll your eyes, treading into the bathroom and closing the door. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding.
Fuck, it was so challenging yet so exhilarating being in Lew's presence when all you want to do is strip him bare and have your way with him.
You put those thoughts aside and turned on the shower.
When you're clean and dry, you exit the bathroom in your robe (Lewis always keeps an extra for you), where you see Lewis sprawled across the bed, clad only in a pair of boxers. He watches you as you stride past, his head lies against the bed turning to follow your movements. He watches you disappear into his closet and exit, covered in his Mercedes t-shirt that falls down your thighs.
He lulls away the inappropriate images flowing through his mind and instead focuses on the fact that you're wearing his shirt to bed rather than any selection of your clothing piled in his dressers or hanging in your section of his closet.
He makes no attempt to move as you crawl up the bed towards him.
The scene is an absolute vision; he feels blood rush to his member, and he has to use all of his willpower not to let out the lewd groan he's containing.
You only smile at him, and you look so fucking beautiful and innocent he swears if you stare at him for any longer, he'd say fuck it all and pull you down underneath him.
He starts a mental countdown, but before he reaches one, you are flipping onto your back, his arm serving as a pillow as you fit comfortably against his side.
You turn your head to the right, seeing the bottle of liquor in his hand. 
"Give me that." He passes it over, his lips turned up in a smirk.
You lift your head, taking a good bit down your throat before passing it back; he does the same.
"I've got to post you for your birthday!" You gasp excitedly. You two joke around as you upload to your pages.
y/u/n
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y/u/n my favorite holiday, happy birthday lewlew, i love you to the moon and back, although you love to move through life fast I am always happy to spend slow days like this together with you cheetah, thank you for the lifelong memories and for sticking by me, i love you like no other <3
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whitwhit mum and dad ❤️ happy birthday pops
fencer Petition to make today a national holiday.
lewishamiton I love you more than life bunny, Thank you for today it was everything I needed.
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton Another one 🎂 Always a blast spending time with the people I love. Blessed to see another year surrounded by those I love. Special shoutout to bunny for the impromptu birthday celebration, every year that passes I am reminded of how we've gone through life together, always. Can't wait to spend many more years surrounded by love and happiness, thank you for the birthday wishes.
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user the way his post is full of him and y/n as kids. they really grew with each other 🥹
y/u/n cakes and candles my guy i luv uuuu
morismith +1 dad 🥳 child of a happy and healthy marriage
You two laugh as you scroll through your friends' comments. Somewhere along the line of you two passing the bottle back and forth, you began your own game of twenty-one questions, extra juicy, seeing as you two already knew damn near everything about the other.
"Hmmm!" you light up, "take a shot, or tell me why Nicki called you a weird little guy." 
Lewis smacks his teeth but breaks into a fit of laughter as you turn over, propping your chin up against his arm. Your feet kick back and forth as you stare into him.
"You're messy." He declares, downing another shot.
You groan, reaching over his bare body to take the bottle. "And you're no fun."
"What's one thing you've never told anyone, including me? I mean deepest, darkest secret."
You hum again, allowing Lewis to reposition the two of you. Now he is rested against the headboard, and your head rests on his lap. You let out a gentle moan when his fingers begin to rub against your scalp—his member twitches in his boxers.
"Answer the question." He demands his hands, pushing your head forward slightly to avoid the feel of his growing penis.
Your eyes bore into his, and he could see you fighting to decide whether to tell him or not. He almost tells you to take your shot until the words tumble from your plush lips.
"I used to have the biggest crush on you for the longest time, like probably was in love with you." You admit. Your eyes never leave his and it has his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He feels many questions running through his mind and they want to tumble out like an avalanche but like the relaxed person he is, he plays it cool.
"yeah, and what happened to these feelings, bunny?"
You smile at the nickname, rolling your eyes as you scoff. Lewis always picked at your cute persona as a kid, calling you as sweet and timid as a bunny, the bunny teeth also didn't help.
"You almost got married," you answered. "Realized that a childhood crush was just that, I let it simmer for so long that I made it seem realistic. When you started considering taking things further, I think I closed that book, locked that door, and threw away the key. It was easy when you left her and started running rabid like a fucking dog." you snort.
He laughs with you, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You calling me a slut?"
"If the condom fits." You tease. 
He rolls his eyes, but deep down inside, he is in shambles over the chance with you that he's missed. And he's regretting every decision that led up to you losing those feelings for him. "Next question."
You're staring deep into his soul with those sparkly eyes again and he can't help but return the same lovey eyes back. He always feels like this with you, wholly enamored and floored by anything that you do. 
You look so sweet and perfect that he doesn't expect the question that falls from your lovely mouth. "What's your favorite kink, like what's something that you do during sex that has you absolutely ready to go berserk?"
"You got a dirty mind, bunny." He teases, two fingers tapping against your temple.
"I've got a breeding kink, I think." He doesn't go into full detail, describing how he discovered it years ago when out shopping with you, and you passed through the baby aisle to shop for his newborn niece at the time. He doesn't describe how his pants tightened at the sight of you holding up cute little onesies or how his mind wandered to you laying spread out in his bed, being pumped full of his cum and loving it, begging for it. He doesn't tell you how he came the hardest he'd ever come in his life that night in his shower, imagining you plump with his child and a bright smile on your lips.
"Elaborate." There is a glint in your eyes as you observe him that urges him to finish his thoughts.
"It's something about loving someone so much that you want to fill them up with another part of you. You love someone so much that you want them to swell up with what is yours. Just fucking the cum back into them every time it slips out, one goal. Give someone my babies."
As he talks, his own words excite him; you can feel it, and you say nothing. The air surrounding you two is charged with such a lewd and sensual energy.
You throb between your thighs as he speaks to you, and his voice is getting deeper and deeper. He is hot and hard against your cheek; you stare up at him, your eyes leaving his own to trail the way his lips move to the way his jaw clenches, to the way his throat bobs all the way to his tatted, glowing chest. His words are getting to you. It's no secret that you, too, had a breeding kink, but hearing him say the words you wished to hear spoken to you in the midst of passion made you shoot into action. You are on his lap before you know it, mouth mushing against his in an instant.
He doesn't hesitate to return the favor; he separates your lips, gliding his tongue into your mouth, licking you open. You moan into his mouth, pressing yourself against him harder. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose, reaching one hand up to grasp the back of your neck and the other on your ass, pushing you impossibly closer to him.
You rock your hips against him, grinding down over him; he lets out a raspy groan, pulling away from your lips, his head falling to watch where your bodies connect; he lets out a moan as his grey briefs darken in color. You continue to glide back and forth over him
You swear you hear him whimper as you lift from his lap. He reaches to pull you back, but you are too fast; kneeling between his spread legs, the sight alone has him letting out another drawn-out whine. Your hand creeps up, rubbing him through the material. You were such a fucking vixen it was driving him mad. His head falls back against the headboard, and his eyes squeeze shut. You're barely doing anything to him, and it feels better than anything he's ever experienced, and he can only equate it to it being you.
You finally free him from his confines, and his head drops down to view you, and his jaw falls slack.
You jerk him up and down, your thumb swiping over the slit at the head of his perfect cock. You moan at the sight, and he twitches. You kiss at the top, staring at him through your lashes, and he swears he almost burst right then and there. Your lips are shiny with spit and you're practically drooling over him. As you place kisses up and down his shaft. You finally slip him into your mouth humming as you taste him. It has his legs spasming making you jostle a little.
You pop him from your mouth, giving him a cute smile that has him throwing his head back. She's going to fucking kill me.
You're moaning over him, driving him absolutely fucking insane. Lewis watches you through clouded eyes, his hand traveling to your hair. He pushes you lower and lower until you're shoving all of him down your throat, and then he pulls you off for air. You smile up at him going down again, and he lets out the nastiest moan you've ever heard.
"So fucking greedy for my dick." You'd never heard him speak like this, and it was scrambling your brain and your insides. "Mhmm," you moan over him. He holds onto your hair with his left hand, his right hand trailing to pull up the shirt that adorns your beautiful body. The higher he raises the shirt, the more unstable he becomes; the black panties cover barely anything, and when he continues to glide his hand up your back, your breasts hang loosely. He fondled them in his hand tweaking your nipple.
He tenses up, watching you take him down your throat like a champ, "fuuckk." 
He pulls you up for the last time, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. He thrust up into nothing. His tongue finds it's way into your mouth and moves along with you in the most sensual kiss you'd ever gotten in your life.
"Lew." you whine, and it has him tensing again. This was better than he'd imagined. For years for his entire life he'd pictured this moment, played it out in a million different scenarios and they don't even measure up to this.
He was harder than he'd ever been and ready to finish at the mere sight of you looking up at him with his cock stuffed in your mouth.
"I can't- I won't last-" He is breathless, and his chest is falling up and down harshly. He looks so perfect, face tinted red and lips red and plump.
"Fuck me then," you order, and it flips a switch in him.
He'd dreamed of this moment, and he would be damned if he let his mind fuck this up for him. He pulls the large shirt from your frame and flips you over, laying you gently on your back. He hikes your legs up, spreading them open and pressing them down. Your knees touch the bed flat at your sides, and you mewl as his tongue flatly glides against your core.
You shiver and shake as he sucks you up. You can't stop squirming as he literally eats you. You moan his name over and over, hands coming down to clutch his curls. He moans against your core, pressing you down harder. You quiver in his hold, and you can feel that ball inside you, ready to burst. "Come for me, baby, let it out." He urges kissing your clit. He sucks it into his mouth, and that's when it happens.
The best orgasm you've had in your life. He licks you through it before sitting up on his knees. He still has you spread open at his mercy, and the sight below him has him stroking himself above you.
"So fucking pretty." he rasps, "ready for me?"
You nod, so fucked out that words seem impossible to you.
He chuckles, his hand coming up to hold you open as his other directs his hard dick to your hole; he pushes the head in at first, hissing as you suck him in. "Mhhm," he moans, "want me so bad, huh?"
You mewl, trying to push your body up to push him in.
"Aht, aht." he pushes his hand against you harder. "Let me take my time, make it right for us, yeah. Been wanting this forever."
His words make you gush more and more; you'd never imagine that Lewis, of all people, was this vocal during sex.
"He lets go of himself, both hands now gripping your thighs that are still burning against your chest. He stares deep into your soul as he pushes himself in an inch just to ease out just as slowly.
"Gotta stretch this pretty pussy out first, huh? So fucking tight." he coos.
Your eyes fall closed, your mouth going slack as he slides in again. "It's your dick, baby. All yours."
"C'mon bunny, wanna see your eyes, wanna watch you take me." You open your eyes breaths leaving you as little hitches as he finally fills you up.
"He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes watching where the two of you connect. "Fits so good," he groans, "made jus' for me."
You only mewl and clench the sheets.
"So pretty," he drops your legs, propping himself up on an elbow; his weight covers you like a security blanket. "Mhmm." he moans, sliding in and out of you. Your walls were suffocating him, sucking him in and trying to keep him in place. His face is scrunched up in pure pleasure as he succumbs to your velvety walls. So fucking warm and wet.
"Love this pussy." he groans before his mouth is back on yours. 
"Say it's mine," he orders pulling back, he is towering over you again, one hand clutching your face to watch him watch you.
You only moan, equating his words to being in the moment even though they have your stomach doing flips.
"Say it's mine, baby, and I'll give you what you want." 
It's like he hit a switch in you, brought out a side of you that you've never been able to release.
"It's yours," you coo, "all yours, only yours."
His eyes shine at your words, pressing a quick peck to your lips. 
"Nobody can give it to you like me, they don't deserve it, been so good to you. Hmm. Can give you everything you want."
One hand travels down to your stomach, where he presses down, "Feel me in there?"
"yes." you gasp, eyes rolling back; the sex is no longer slow and sensual. He is pounding into you so hard that your body lurches up and down the bed, and your breast bounces with every thrust. 
Lewis Hamilton is a dirty man, you conclude watching his lips fall open from the dirty smirk he'd had it in. 
"Got something else to put in there." You clench around him tighter curses falling from his mouth as he stills inside of you.
You know he is only in the moment, this whole debacle started because of his admission of a praise kink, you know he's playing along with yours, he wants to get you there in the same way you want to get him there so you play along.
"I want it." you whine, "want it all."
Lewis thought it was impossible for him to get any hornier, but once again, you've proven him wrong.
"Want you to fill me up, want to be full of you." You play on his words from earlier. "Want all of you."
He moans once again, spreading you open. He is plowing into you. Loud grunts left his throat as he digs deeper and deeper into you. He can feel every crevice of your flesh as you swallow him.
"Gonna give you what you want, make you big and full, have you carrying my babies. Going to have what you always wanted, love."
Your eyes fall shut at his words in utter bliss.
He lays on top of you, the burn of your thighs spreading. His hands travel to your own, holding them on either side of your head. His head is nestled between the crook of your neck; he's sucking and licking along your neck. You feel him everywhere.
"mmph," you moan as he reaches and punches against your sweet spot over and over. 
Lewis is so fucked out in a loving haze that he can't control the words tumbling from his lips onto your skin.
"Wanted this forever, so long." He whimpers, "Feel so good, only wanna feel you. Only wanted you."
You free one hand from his hold wrapping it around to rub at the curls at the nape of his neck. You want him to keep talking, keep feeding you the words you've waited your whole life for him to say. "I can give you everything you want, baby."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you can't tell if it's from the pleasure he's giving you or the words he's dribbling out.
"Taking me so well, fuck!" he sits up on his knees again, turning you over without pulling out of you; you're on all fours as he plows into you from behind. 
"So mean, making me wait so long, letting me be with the wrong woman, should've been you." You clench around him eyes squeezing shut, you shouldn't enjoy these words as much as you do but you can't help it.
"Wanted it to be you, would've had our family by now, so many kids, so happy." You're literally shaking, the fire growing inside of you, making it impossible to ward off your second orgasm. 
"Been looking for you in all these women, never were you, never could be. Fucking couldn't get hard without imagining your face. Always had to be you." He sounds so vulnerable and open behind you. You want to see his face so badly, and you want to watch him as he admits what you've always desired.
Like he read your mind, he flips you over again, nestling between your legs and pushing himself in again with a hiss, "Gotta see your face when you come, love."
You're on top of him, relishing in the way he looks up at you. Your thighs are placed on either side of him lifting over and over as he glides in and out of you.
He looks so beautiful, you think even if he is spitting out the most wild and lewd words you've ever had spoken to you. "Gonna empty this dick in you baby, give you my baby. Make you mine, all mine." He growls.
"Could've had this all along if you said something sooner, bunny. Would have had you feeling like this all of the time."
His hands are on your waist, lifting you up and down over him. You fall forward one hand holding you up and the other reaching down to cup his jaw. You press your lips over his, breathless pants traveling from one mouth to the other. The eye contact is intense as you stare each other down. His eyes literally sparkle as he fuck up into you, his mouth dropped open. You kiss him one last time before sitting up again and setting your own pace, "Fuck Lew, you feel so good."
You're bouncing on him at a much slower pace as his eyes fall closed and his grip tightens on your flesh.
You're not responsible for what you say when you cum, it's common knowledge, which is why when Lewis flips you over and barrels into you at a much softer pace you let his words carry no penalty, albeit the way they make your eyes water, albeit the way you return them truthfully.
It's so overwhelming you can't help the way the tears flow from your eyes and slide onto the sheets. He's cumming in spurts, hot and gooey, filling you to the brim. Lewis has never come so much. He lets out an array of grunts and moans. He's so out of it that he lets his words tumble out without a care in the world, and he means them wholly. He's fucking his cum into you, pushing it back in with his dick as you quiver around him. 
"Love you, fuck, I fucking love you."
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