#if me just answering it works better for you instead of me going into your inbox lmk

[bad268]

Maybe an Ollie Bearman oneshot where he got DNF and reader is making Ollie feel better?

Love your writing, btw!

Concussed (Ollie Bearman X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I feel like this brought me out of a slump. I was pretty close to calling it quits for writing but I love Ollie, I am on my knees begging for more Ollie reqs) (Also, thank you love <3)

Warnings: Concussion symptoms

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1123

Summary: Why isn't Ollie answering you?

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It was never fun to not finish a race. Every opportunity to earn points was crucial when he needed to impress Ferrari. 

It wasn’t even his fault! He got rear-ended by Zane and somehow, he spun into a wall while Zane was able to keep racing. It was unfair honestly. Zane did get a significant penalty, but it was not nearly enough to make up for the lost opportunity. 

You knew Ollie would be upset about it before he even texted you. Because of final exams, you had to miss this race, so you had to watch the crash from your apartment in Italy. You immediately sent him a text asking if he was alright and saying you would stay awake for whenever he was ready to talk despite knowing he would not respond for a while. You would not be able to sleep until you heard his voice and he knew it. 

You did not want to finish watching the race after that. You would check the race results later, but your heart was still racing (pun intended). You did not need to be watching cars racing when you knew your boyfriend was not in it. You had taken to getting a headstart on one of your assignments. It was just a paper, so you could at least get an outline figured out before Ollie called you. You set up your papers and laptop on the couch as you started getting to work. 

When you finished the outline and still didn’t receive a call, you just started the draft.

When you finished the draft and still didn’t receive a call, you just started editing.

When you finished editing and still didn’t receive a call, you finished up the paper to turn in.

When you were ready to turn it in, it was almost 6 in the morning, and you were concerned. 

You checked your phone again, but there were no notifications from Ollie. Part of you wanted to call him. Another part wanted to call the team to see how he was doing. The last part of you wanted to pass out. You were not prepared to pull an all-nighter, but that’s what it turned out to be. 

You moved your laptop aside as you got more comfortable. You didn’t want to fall asleep, but you would be able to hear your phone go off if you did. You had a random show on the TV, and you thought that closing your eyes for a minute would be fine. 

You got maybe an hour or two before you heard kees at the front door. Again, you checked your phone and there was nothing from Ollie. However, there he was, walking through the door in a hoodie and sunglasses.  The hood was pulled up and he had his head down as he slowly walked into the apartment and set his bag down. He took his shoes off before approaching where you were still lying on the couch. 

He immediately laid on top of you, not bothering to take the glasses off or pull the hoodie down. You wrapped your arms cautiously around his shoulders as you placed a kiss on his head. Then you grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch to put over both of your bodies.

“Bear?” You whispered as you rubbed a hand up and down his back. Instead of an answer, you were met with a grunt from Ollie. “You feeling okay?”

“Concussion,” He groaned as he situated himself further into your chest. “It hurts.”

“I’ll take care of you, Bear,” You promised in a soft tone as you moved a hand into the hood to gently comb through his hair with your fingers. You looked over at the window and saw that your curtains were still open. The sun was going to be rising soon, so you gently moved to get Ollie to sit up. He protested immediately and tried to hold you tighter. You chuckled lightly, but whispered, “Bear, we should go to our room. It’ll be darker in there, and we can sleep the day away.”

“I don’t wanna move,” He groaned and tried to hide his face in your chest.

“I would carry you if I could, Bear,” You chuckled again as you pushed a piece of hair away from his forehead, “but trust me, you’ll appreciate being in the dark on our bed where your legs are not handing off the side.”

“You convinced me,” He let a small smile appear on his face before pushing himself up but stopping before standing up. “Can you help me? It’s spinning.”

“I promised to take care of you, Bear,” You consoled as you stood and grabbed his forearms to help him stand slowly. Then, you put his arm over your shoulder and wrapped yours around his waist to help hold him up as you walked into our shared bedroom. You set Ollie on the bed against the headboard as you checked to make sure the curtains were closed. Then you moved to the closet to grab out a t-shirt and sweatpants for Ollie. “I’m gonna help you change. Is that okay?”

“Keep the hoodie on? Don’t wanna mess with my head,” he whispered as his head lolled to the side as he tried to open his eyes to look at you, but his head was still pounding. Ultimately, he just gave up.

“That’s fine, but those sunglasses are not gonna be fun to sleep in,” You replied as you helped Ollie change out of his jeans to the sweatpants. That’s when you remembered, “Wait, I have a sleep mask in my travel bag for flights. That’ll probably be more comfortable if you’re willing to take those off for me to switch it.”

“Those silk ones? Those are comfy,” Ollie chuckled lightheartedly as he let you slide the glasses off his face and pull the hood down carefully. Then you slowly stretched the mask to go over his head to make sure it would not snap anywhere. Once it was situated, you pulled the hood back up for Ollie. “Can we sleep now?”

“I would try to get you to brush your teeth, but I have a feeling that’ll hurt your brain more,” You joked lightly, but it went over his head. “Yes, Bear. We can go to sleep.”

You got situated under the blankets on your side after helping Ollie under the covers as well. He immediately gravitated toward you, placing his head back on your chest as he clung to you. You gently rubbed up and down his arm, encouraging him to go to sleep which happened in no time.

That’s when your heart finally stopped racing. Ollie was safe in your arms.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[mosaickiwi]

All Clean!!!

How dare Sai deprive me of this tbh /j /silly

a lil itty bit angsty on angel's part… i meant to write it completely goofy oops

cw// mild nudity (but not for sexy reasons), blood, implied offscreen murder(s)

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

“Should I be concerned?” you finally blurted out, curious about whatever had caused the sight before you. 

[REDACTED] sat completely relaxed on the edge of the tub, splatters of blood mixed with dirt and rain water over their face and torso. Under the scarlet streaks and smears, his skin was flushed as if he’d been running a long time. He was stripped to his boxers, and the clothes they’d come home in were being tossed around in the washing machine while you took care of him. 

“Not at all,” he quickly answered your question with a nonchalant shake of his head, then muttered an apology. “Didn't mean t’wake you up.”

It was strange that he was more worried about your sleep than the fact that he came home covered in bloodstains, but you knew exactly what to expect from them by now. The only sound in the room was the cloth in your hands loudly dripping into a bowl of soapy water as you rung it out to clean them up.

You’d heard noises in the middle of the night, and peered out of the bedroom to find your boyfriend halfway down his apartment’s dimly lit hall, making a mess of the marble floor with their clothes soaked from the rainstorm. Except the little puddles of what should've been water were slightly stained red, leaving a haunting trail in his wake as he’d staggered towards the bathroom. 

The apathy in their blue eyes disappeared the moment you called their name, a puppylike smile forming on his lips that was at odds with his ghastly appearance as he turned, fully intent on hugging you, then struggled to stop himself once they realized they’d get dirt and blood all over you if he tried. You would’ve laughed if you weren't still half asleep.

And if the hallway didn’t look like a crime scene all its own.

You brushed their dark bangs back and wiped at the liquid on their forehead and cheeks, gently scolding them. “Don’t apologize for that. I’d rather miss out on sleep and make sure you're okay instead of wondering if…” It hurt to even think the words.

He took hold of your hand, the cloth trembling against his skin from your fears. “‘M sorry for worrying you, love. I promise it’s not my blood,” they said in the hopes you’d calm down. Weirdly enough, it did make you feel better.

Though he never flat out admitted to it, he wasn’t really trying to hide the things they did from you anymore, only the brutality of it all. From the dozen or so times you came home to an empty apartment after a text not to wait for him, just to vaguely recognize a missing person on the TV a few days later, it was obvious without confirmation. This was the first time you’d “caught” them, though—and with actual physical evidence. He usually came home silent and squeaky clean.

“It better not be,” you halfheartedly joked to ease the tension. He smiled and let go of your hand so you could continue your work.

The cleanup went by quickly. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of soapy water and wringing it out one last time, you reached towards your hacker’s bare shoulders. The blood there was mostly gone—save for a streak just below their collarbone. It wiped away all too easily, but a tiny line of dots flowered forth from a small injury you hadn't noticed at all.

“So about this not being your blood,” you started, setting the cloth down in the bowl.

He must not have noticed it either, but recognition dawned on their face. “I did have a tree problem earlier.”

“A tree problem?” Your earlier worries were quickly pushed aside at the revelation.

“Yeah, a branch got stuck—” he suddenly paused. The pink in his already flushed cheeks deepened. Their eyes shifted to the side in embarrassment. “Never mind.”

You struggled not to laugh. Of all things to phase him about his night out, a tree branch? The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to tease them. But you held your tongue and quickly grabbed some ointment and a bandage from a nearby cabinet.

[REDACTED] didn't even flinch when you pressed a dab of ointment to the reddened scratches. His expression seemed to melt instead. You asked carefully, “It doesn’t hurt does it?”

Their gaze went blank and wide eyed for a split second, then a twinge of fake sadness oozed into his voice. “‘Hurts a lot, Angel. Be gentle with me and kiss it better?” He even pouted to sell the act.

“Of course.” You playfully rolled your eyes and applied more ointment. As you spread it over the scrapes, he resumed adoringly looking up at you until you finished. Satisfied with your work, you smoothed the bandage over his skin and loudly planted a kiss to the spot then stood up.

“Y’know…” he hummed while wrapping a tattooed arm around your waist with a devious smile. “My mouth hurts too. ‘Could use a kiss or four there, don't y'think?”

With a smile, you leaned down, grabbing both their cheeks as if to kiss them. His eyes glittered in anticipation as you came closer. Instead, you stopped millimeters from their lips and whispered in the sultriest voice you could muster, “I’m gonna go mop the hallway.”

[miodiodavinci]

I made a Vocaloid channel but I'm having trouble getting views. I like making covers for fun but I wish I could get more than a handful of views, especially since I haven't even gotten 5 on my latest ones. I use Vocaloid 6, which may be the problem since not many people talk much about it as much as the older versions

Would you have any advice as to what I can do?

m m m m m , , , , , , i feel like it's hard to say—back in the day when i was doing UTAU work, most of the interaction i got with my work was from my friends from UTAForum. we all sort of just shared our work with each other and supported one another doing our fun little hobby. though the sort of forum culture that spawned that sort of friend circle has kind of disappeared by this point , , , , ,

but honestly, even still—find folks whose work you like and get involved!! share your work on other sites and shout out people you like!! support the folks around you and establish yourself as part of a community

(of course like. don't treat it as a transactional thing. if there's one way to ensure No One interacts with your work it's to. comment on people's things or shout people out and then get passive aggressive expecting a response back. doesn't work like that. you support people because you love them and their work—not because you want something in return.)

but even more than that, honestly just keep doing what you do and the love in your work will come across in heaps and bounds, and someone will be bound to listen. people also tend to get interested the more you put your own spin on something, whether it's creating your own PVs, adding your own harmonies, sharing some of your files, or linking multiple covers together as part of a kind of overarching story. if you make it yours, it'll be yours for good.

like, at the end of the day we can all agree that views are just a number on a screen and are kind of meaningless and no one should base their worth on them, but also yeah it kind of wears you down after a while to keep sharing things you've put a lot of love and effort into with no response.

i'd just like to encourage you not to lose your passion for it—views or not, there's a lot to be gain by pursuing something you love. your VOCALOID endeavors are only just beginning, and who knows where you'll end up ! ! ! ! take the journey as far as it'll take you, and have fun all the while ! ! ! ! ! ! !

also send me your work i want to listen 👁 👁

[mitsvriii]

mooties send me your favorite character (or characters) in my inbox and i’ll pop in yours and give you a moodboard of them & you!!

[piningprecussionist]

(ooc)

I want you all to know that if I had the energy for it. There are so many posts stored in my drafts I long to queue... but neglected to preemptively tag, despite knowing I am Like This....

Anyway, there is a slight chance the queue might run out tomorrow unless I can get more responses in there-- I am,, tired,,

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

[nkogneatho]

𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄- 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

—cw: fem!reader, male and female masturbating, fingering, fistfucking, pillowfucking (put me in a cage pls), desperate gojo because i'll never shut up about that. not proofread.

—a/n: i wish his seiyuu had an asmr channel just like nanami's so this drabble would've been longer. enjoy though <33

You're used to stalking the social media of people you go out with. It comes naturally. Well you live alone in this city, and you sure as hell don't want to stumble across a creep with no defense. You never know what's crippling it's way across this sinful city at night. The questionable news reports just added the oil to the fire of your anxiety. So it was natural that tonight, you were stalking another one of your dates. Gojo Satoru. You knew he was pretty popular when those hand had to leave yours to dap or fist bump his peers on your first date. It's almost as if fifty percent of the city knew him, like a celebrity. If he was really so popular, it would be easy to dig up info about him.

That's what led to you eagerly scrolling past his Instagram, flipping through each highlight as if you were a child who just found the greatest comic book.

party,

party,

and parties.

it was like his mantra the way his entire feed was just him dancing under the influence, in outfits too expensive and champagne to rich. He bathed in the luxury and the people around him were pleasuring off the drops sprinkling. So perfect that he had everyone wrapped around his finger. But won't he do the same to you? Overpower you. All those riches and he decided to go out with you, just so he could make you one of his whores, you were sure about that.

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, tossing your phone away. "Guess i'll have to use my hand again."

You opened your laptop, went incongnito typing the first letter, but your autocorrect knew better. It's like it has memorised what you do at this hour. But autocorrect works on algorithms so you were sure it's your fault that you visit the site so frequently.

The porn website was open and you clicked on search button, specifically typing "hot men jerking off webcam." It was one of your favorite things to watch.

You scrolled through the popular videos you had already watched maybe a million times. There was a reason they were popular. So you just changed the filter and selected "new to old". After rummaging through some of the boring videos, your eyes landed on the preview of one with the most beautiful cock. longest even. Curiously, you click on it. The video starts with the man rubbing his boner through the boxers. You put a hand inside your panties, and all you want right now is for him to take his boxers off. After a few minutes, he does and his long light peach cock springs out. when he leans back, your eyes do a double take.

is that gojo fucking satoru??

And indeed it was. The man who earlier gave you the rich spoiled misogynistic son vibes was now moaning like a slut, begging his viewers to ride their imaginary pussy. He had zero shame. Although...why didn't you log out?? Why did you not switch to some other video?

Because holy shit he is fistfucking his cock like an animal in heat. The chair is shaking and making squeaking noises but fuck who cares about that. Listen to his moans. His fucking whimpers. He changed his placement and now he was on the bed, had the pillow folded in half only to start ramming his dick into it. God! Is this the real Gojo Satoru? Is this what he is? A camboy whoring his body out. Because he has generational wealth so there's no way he is foung that for money. So the only logical answer is because he is such a fucking pussywhore that his exhibitionist cock only cums when there are others watching it.

Your fingers starts vigorously pumping in your cunt. They weren't long enough to reach and you were actually wishing Satoru was fucking you instead of that pillow because look. Look at that long dick. Look at the pretty flushed tip with his precum glistening. Fuck, how'd he taste on your? Sweet? Sour? But you know it would taste warm and filthy for sure.

The man in the screen increases his pace and so do you, imitating him. you want to cum at the same time. you want to see what his cum looks like on the gray pillowcase. your middle finger starts stimulating your clit even more while Satoru in the screen is now snapping his hips rougly against the bed, in the pillow. you imagine yourself in the position. Prone Bone. Never tried it but if it is what he is doing, then you're sure as hell down. It's the way his thrusts can be heard banging against the wood under the mattress even if there's not skin for his to slap against. compared to what other camboys do, talk about how they're going to ruin your dirty little pussy, gojo's is different. he does say he'll ruin your pussy but it's hotter because it is followed by endless pleas.

"fuck—lemme ruin this pussy—anh! please, yeah? gonna make you feel so good, baby please?" almost as if he is actually fucking someone. and you don't think twice before assuming he is talking to you. It's okay to be delusional sometimes. Specially when his words make you cum so hard, that you are whining at the lack of more girth to clench around. you look at the screen and Satoru came too. And he was whimpering. Like actually whimpering because it felt so good. Hot strings of cum now soaked in the pillow. Shit.

When you come back from the bathroom after washing yourself, you hear a notification. you pick up your phone to find a "Free tomorrow night?" from the same man who indirectly made you cum so hard tonight. And after what you saw today, you would be a fucking idiot to miss a chance like this.

"Yeah, Of course. Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

*Sent*

[luveline]

gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing

thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k

Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated. 

You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong. 

"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?" 

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks. 

Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach. 

"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong." 

"I'm just trying to figure something out." 

This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance. 

You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein. 

He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?" 

That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop. 

"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something. 

"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself." 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention." 

He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights. 

Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done? 

You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time. 

I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again. 

You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears. 

This is all so messy, and it's your fault. 

I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me. 

You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid. 

—

The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help. 

"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?" 

He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go." 

He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention. 

Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up. 

He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell. 

Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you. 

"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it." 

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry." 

Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel. 

Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug. 

He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes  

He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon. 

His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two. 

"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset " 

"I'm an idiot–" 

"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"

"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–" 

"I shouldn't have–" 

"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away. 

Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up." 

He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into? 

"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me." 

Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says. 

"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile. 

"It's not okay." 

"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even." 

"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked." 

"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?" 

"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back." 

You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better." 

"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you." 

What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful. 

"Does it look really bad?" 

"N–no. You look really pretty," he says. 

"Are my eyes puffy?"

A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already." 

"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to." 

Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid." 

"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask. 

Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not." 

You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure." 

"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."

"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want." 

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks. 

You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it. 

"That feels nice," you mumble. 

He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?" 

"Don't," you warn. 

He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?" 

"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it. 

"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel." 

Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.

[ginevrapng]

I saw that you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you could write something about best friends’ dads!marauders x reader or something like that?

If not, I completely understand! <3

i've never written bestfriends!dads before so i hope you enjoy it! i didn't know if you wanted me to include peter but the majority of marauders fics leave out peter and i think this concept works better without him. <3

there was a lot of great things about being harry potter's best friend, one of those things happens to be getting to spend time with his hot dad james, completely off limits dad. that doesn't stop you from thinking about how charming he is though.

you've seen photos of james when he were younger and harry is a spitting image of him. now with age he's changed in all the best ways, his hair less messy, neater with slightly having the appearance of being slicked back and with thicker frame glasses. a distinction between him and harry, both younger and older is his build, james being more built with broader shoulders and more muscular.

he's kind and considerate and always calls you 'sweetheart' making you flush and every time leaves you wide eyed. you've never heard him call anyone else sweetheart so it's always leaving you feeling bashful.

james tells you that you can come and visit and stay whenever you want and you're always welcome so whenever you spend time at harry's you also end up seeing his two godfathers who also spend a lot of time there. whenever that happens you are rather reluctant to leave the house, not just enjoying all the company that they deliver but also how attractive they are, just like james.

remus somehow always memorising you. like when he rolls his sleeves up so you can see his arms or how you swear you sometimes see in the corner of your eye glimpses of him looking at your lips while you're talking. his jumpers and cardigans always looking so comfortable and soft, you wonder what they'd look like on you. you think about his sandy hair that covers his eyes and his beautiful hazel eyes that crinkle when he smiles and how he always looks tired and how you'd happily let him rest and sleep on you. he never talks about his work but it must be pretty rough for him to constantly look so tired.

sirius is ruggedly handsome always leaning against walls instead of sitting down, even when a seat is available. leaving you watching longer than you should as you watch his pose and see him stretching causing his tshirt to rise, exposing a bit of his torso. he has his long jet black hair which now has streaks of grey that he constantly runs his hands through.

you're going back into the living room, where everyone is, after you went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water due to the heat and see sirius moving in a way that momentarily makes you freeze.

"you alright doll?" sirius smirks at you after spotting you. you nod but are unable to stop shifting side to side nervously after being caught, causing him to raise his eyebrow, looking amused as he chuckles at you.

this is the first time any of them has addressed your behaviour towards them but they have all noticed your longing looks and shy glances.

they've all been waiting for the moment to make a move and they're starting to lose their patience. you were none the wiser with their intentions, trying to get you alone, away from your friends and away from harry, asking you personal questions and give you special attention.

"you got a boyfriend or girlfriend doll? sirius asked you out of the blue one day, catching you completely off guard.

you splutter and try to answer while james starts speaking. "you're not dating my harry are you sweetheart?"

"what! of course i'm not! we're just friends." you say probably louder than you should, wanting to defend yourself.

you hear someone coming up behind you, "good." remus clasps your shoulders with his hands, slowly rubbing them and making patterns with his thumbs before he moves away and goes to help sirius with the washing up.

fiddling with your fingers you watch them all clear the table and sort out things that needed to be doing in the house with a small dreamy smile on your face.

[pathologicalreid]

bringing your work home with you | S.R.

spencer shares details of a case with you - with a hands-on learning approach

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: case information from 10x17 "breath play", erotic asphyxiation, choking, fingering, praise kink, aftercare, explicit consent, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, dacryphilia (ish), established relationship dl;dr. word count: 1.74k a/n: im no longer afraid of being perceived on the internet (lie) and will begin writing whatever i want (truth). including this.

“How was work?” You asked hesitantly, looking across the couch to where Spencer was sitting. He was lost in thought, although, you supposed if you had just returned from Wisconsin, you’d feel relatively similar.

Spencer hummed absentmindedly in response while flipping through the pages of the file he brought home with him. “The UnSub certainly had a unique signature,” he answered, dragging his thumb across his lower lip in thought.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t often that Spencer shared details of cases with you, usually because the information he’d be divulging was privileged, but you shuffled over a cushion in hopes that he’d share with you. “What was it?”

He reached over and ruffled your hair affectionately, “He had a particular affinity for erotic asphyxiation. Each of his victims had read this book, Bare Reflections, and that’s how he found them – through sexual fantasies.”

Furrowing your brows, you rested your face in your hand, “So like… sex choking?”

“Yes, love. Like sex choking,” Spencer said, not without humor, before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking you if you needed anything as he did.

When he returned, sitting down on the couch and flipping the file back open, you leaned to the side and said, “I never got the whole choking thing. Not being able to breathe never seemed very sexy to me.”

At that, Spencer closed the file he was scribbling in and set it on the coffee table, “It’s not meant to fully restrict your breathing. At least, not if you’re doing it properly.”

“And you know how to do it properly?” You challenged, raising a single brow at your boyfriend.

He laughed breathily at your test, “I know human anatomy well enough to know not to press on your trachea.”

You fail to hide the way your eyes widen when he speaks to you, his use of the words ‘your trachea’ implying that he is now thinking about choking you. “Cool,” you responded, your brain spinning as you began to think about Spencer’s hand on your throat.

“Come here,” Spencer spoke up, already grabbing your waist and sliding you across the worn leather of the couch. He carefully guided your body over his own until you’re straddling him – one knee on either side of his hips. “You’re a kinesthetic learner, you’ll do better with a hands-on approach.”

Letting a shuddered breath loose, you met Spencer’s eyes, “Hi,” you whispered, keeping your voice low as if you were sharing a secret in a crowded room. Without waiting for him to move, you ducked your head and pressed your lips to his. Quickly, Spencer’s lips coaxed yours open, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

Spencer’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your chest to his so that you could feel the buttons of his work shirt through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. You were severely underdressed compared to him, lounging in just a t-shirt and underwear while he was wearing his work attire – it just added to the power dynamic you were navigating.

Gently, Spencer tugged at your lower lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before pulling away from the kiss. “Do you trust me?” He asked, loosening his hold on you, and instead running his hands down your arms in a soothing manner.

Straightening up, you nodded, “Yes,” you responded, reaching a hand up and grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Lifting his dominant hand to your neck, your breathing faltered as he put his hand at the front of your neck, the thumb on one side and the remainder of his fingers on the opposite. “Is this alright?” He murmured, using his free hand to trace small circles on your inner thigh, leaving you wishing you could press your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.

“Yes,” you repeated yourself, taking the inside of your cheek between your molars and sighing when he moved his hand from your leg.

Nodding assuredly, Spencer brushed your hair from your face, his dominant hand never straying from its newfound home on your throat. “Good, I’m going to keep asking because we’ve never talked about this before,” he informed you. “I won’t fully restrict your airway. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap my arm three times.”

His words led you to relax. The two of you left almost everything on the table, and you were usually good about discussing things ahead of time. You were sure he’d start doing things he knows you like in order to put you at ease. “Thank you,” you whispered, studying his golden irises.

“Such good manners for me, angel,” he praised you, noting the way your back straightens up when he does so. “When I squeeze the sides of your throat like this,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as his hand tightened around your neck, “I’m stopping some of the air from getting to your brain, which makes you feel lightheaded, and when I let go,” he released his firm hold, “You feel a release of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins that make your head spin.”

As Spencer guided you through the process, you felt yourself getting needier. Humming lowly as you came down from the high, you noticed Spencer’s hand back between your thighs – you couldn’t tell when he had moved his hand, you were too preoccupied.

You held your breath as his hand slipped into your panties, “Hey,” he chided, snapping you out of your anticipation. “Don’t hold your breath,” he says sternly, “I won’t touch you if you hold your breath.”

Pointedly taking a deep breath, it took all of your focus to maintain your breathing as he gently slid a finger between your folds, the wet noise only muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Tentatively, Spencer slipped his finger inside you, swirling it around your inner walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in, squeezing the sides of your throat as he started fingering you at a steady pace.

“Do you feel that?” He asked, continuing the pace he had set, keeping his voice low as he spoke to you. “How when I squeeze your throat your cunt tightens around my finger?”

Reaching a hand up, you gripped his forearm and placed your other hand on his shoulder, trying to steady yourself and desperately needing something to do with your hands. You let out a soft moan as he easily added another finger to his ministrations, your volume growing louder as he released your throat. Your skin flushed as you bit your bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling.

Quickly squeezing your neck, Spencer brought your attention back down to him, “Keep your eyes on me, love.”

You nodded almost imperceptibly in response, blinking rapidly, but leaving your head where Spencer held it – gently forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he started curling his fingers inside of you, pushing his fingertips against your inner walls. “Spence,” you whispered, letting out a low whine as you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly.

“Did you wanna cum? Make a mess all over my hand?” Spencer asked tantalizingly, resuming pressure on your throat before you even had a chance to respond to him. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

As you maintained eye contact with Spencer, he began to press the heel of his palm against your clit, the pressure only adding to your lightheadedness. With his hand on your neck, your moans come out garbled, forcing their way through your body. “Fuck,” the word came out as a hiss as tears gathered in your lower lash line. Between the pressure on your clit and throat and the continuing ministrations of his digits, your orgasm built up quickly.

In-kind with the pressure on your throat, you squeezed firmly at Spencer’s forearm, and he watched carefully to make sure that you weren’t trying to tap on his arm.

Your tears flooded over the edge, slowly streaming down your cheeks. You blinked to clear your eyes, but you didn’t let your eye contact with Spencer waver.

A small whimper escaped your throat, and Spencer hummed, “There you go, angel.” He said, nodding as his fingers continued working you to your peak, “I know,” he cajoled when you whined again. “I know. Let it go for me,” he murmured, watching as your body shuddered.

Once your orgasm hits its zenith, Spencer released his hold on your neck, moving his hand to your shoulder to keep you upright while your pussy spasmed around his still-thrusting fingers. Endorphins flooded your mind, prolonging your orgasm for god knows how long until he finally withdrew his fingers from your underwear.

While you remembered how to breathe, Spencer moved his hand from your shoulder to your back, gently pressing on your spine and letting your body fall forward. “I knew you’d like that,” he whispered mischievously, and if you had the energy, you would have rolled your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Groaning, you buried your face in the crook of Spencer’s neck, “Jell-O,” you responded simply.

Your eyes were barely open as Spencer reached over for a tissue box, wiping your slick off of his hand before slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties. You whined and tried to push his hand away, “I know, baby. I just want to wipe you up a bit.” He told you before gathering your wetness on the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it on the end table.

“Toss it,” you mumbled sleepily, ignorant of the fact that you’re still in his lap.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “When you feel like moving, I’ll clean up.” He reached over for a glass of water from the end table, grabbing it from its coaster and trying to hand it to you, “Come on, you need water.”

Sighing, you forced your eyes open, “’m tired,” you told him, reaching a shaky hand up for the glass.

Spencer kept a hand on the glass as you drank from it, setting it back down when you were done and smiling softly at your sleepy nature. “Rehydrating is a nonnegotiable,” he whispered gently, but you were already asleep - or close enough to it that you didn’t respond.

[tanaor]

Want to worldbuild like a pro??

(📖 Master tips and everything I know📖)

Hello writers! You don't know how to worldbuild? Don't know where to start explaining the world you have created? Don't worry, you are in the right place! I have been there myself, and after many research (and even more trial and error) I have put together a list of the best worldbuilding tips I have encountered, and also created some of my own. (I know the first one is kind of overheard, but trust me).

Don't start right away with worldbuilding. A long paragraph about how your world works and its history might overwhelm new readers. A lot of other writers suggest waiting and learning about the world at the same time the protagonist does, or if that doesn't work for your story, dropping bits of information while the story moves forward. However, if you want to give a sense of how your world works from the start...

Exposition through action. This is my favorite method, and it helps a lot if you don't want to pause your story to info dump about the world you have created. Instead, this method relies on explaining the world and its dynamics while you continue with the narrative, briefly. For example: "As always, you couldn't see any trees in the meadow. The king had ordered years ago to cut each one of them because of a prophecy that foretold that the last dragon egg would lay in an oak."

Use expressions that reference normality or routines. In the last point, we used "as always", but there are tons of expressions you could use in your writing. This helps the reader understand what is the norm in this new world and what things are common, to later detect something that is not within that norm (or sometimes just to understand the world and its traditions better).

Use flashbacks when necessary. If you need to explain a very specific or detailed topic, I suggest using a flashback scene, that will help the reader understand with the narration and dialogue, instead of just explaining it to them. It makes for a more dynamic learning experience. But, at the end...

Do whatever will intrigue you. Some readers even like info dumps, and there is not one correct way to show your world. If it would make you curious, go and do it, wether people say it's correct or not. There are a lot of successful books that randomly stop to explain something about the world, and there is nothing wrong with that if you like it.

Hope you find this list useful, and as always happy writing :)

Also, if you are interested in tips or more examples of a specific topic, you can always leave a question in my ask. I'd be glad to answer it!!

Other tips for writers: previous | next

[libraford]

Park Cleanup Pet Peeves

I'll be starting my seasonal gig at Parks and Rec in a couple months and I've got a couple things I wanna say. I know that this will probably not reach the people who need to hear it, but if ONE LESS person leaves the parks a mess, I will be That Much Happier.

-You're not supposed to smoke, drink, or have sex in public parks but I know that people will anyway. But if you are going to do those things, please dispose of the evidence in the trash cans. A human has to pick these things up.

-Dog poop goes in a bag. Bag goes in the trash can.

-The little wax paper liners in the women's room? See you're supposed to put your pad/tampon in that wax paper bag, take the bag out of the bin, and then dispose of it in the actual trash can. Don't feel bad, no one told me either. Also no one told the dudes I work with. But this reduces direct exposure to bodily fluids, especially as the summer gets on and it gets hot in those bathrooms.

-On that subject! The little bins that they go in next to the toilet? Don't stick trash in there. Don't put diapers in there. Also don't put beer cans crushed in such a specific way that I slice my hand on them as I try to jimmy it out of there. Literally, that bin is too small for most things. They are meant specifically for those brown bags. Please for the love of god, throw things in the trash can.

-As for the urinals, please no solids. Most commonly gum and chewed tobacco, but you can use your imagination.

-If you're doing a photo shoot or an event with confetti, please use a paper confetti instead of a plastic one- its easier to get rid of.

-If you're doing a pizza party, we'd rather you stack the pizza boxes in a pile next to the trash can instead of trying to fit them in the trash. Because then we can just throw the trash bag over the top and tie it instead of trying to fish it out. This kind of goes for any big trash- if it won't fit in the trash can easily, don't try.

-Please don't call cops on people sleeping in the parks if they're not bothering anyone. Even if they've been sleeping there all day. Dude's just trying to chill.

-Destruction of the toilets will result in the indefinite locking of the restrooms. You ruined them and now everyone at the softball tournament can blame you for it.

-Parks people are not the police. We are maintenance workers who are not trained to handle most emergencies and the most we can do in any situation is report to the proper department. Please don't look to us for answers if someone is starting a fight.

-Also please don't spit on us for driving on the path. We're permitted to. Its essential for us to drive on the path to do our job.

-please don't abandon animals at the park. Rehome them properly. I spent a whole week trying to catch a rooster last summer.

-look, I get it- 'oh no, your pretty building has writing on it!' Grafitti is so edgy. We get it. But it means Jacob has to sand it off now so that the kids at the birthday party don't see a giant drawing of a weiner. Acts of rebellion that create more work for the working class are not revolutionary.

-please do not set fire to the Tiny Free Library. Why did you do that? That's mean.

-please do not feed bread to ducks and geese. Corn, birdseed, lettuce- those are better for them. If you want to reduce tge amount of goose poop in the parks, shop feeding them bread.

-also do not anger tge geese. They remember what its like to be dinosaurs.

I'll have more later, probably, once the season wears on.

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[monzabee]

partition - lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lewis are stuck in traffic in Paris, and decide to make the most of the situation.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x reader 

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: smut!! sex in a car, unprotected sex (because when have i written something with condoms lol), pwp, cringey ass nickname (blame beyoncé), manhandling, took me a long time to write it so it doesn’t make sense most part, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this was a passion project for me and you have no idea how happy i am with the way it turned out. There’s only one slight issue and it is that i wanted lewis to call the reader something other than peaches, but it is in the song, therefore please if you don’t like it blame the mother, aka beyoncé. Also, i was very unsure of whether i wanted to drag it out, or leave it as it is, so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It took you forty five minutes to get ready – Lewis knows this because he’s been keeping time on his phone since the moment you’ve went into the bedroom side of your hotel room to get ready for the party he’s taking you to. You’ve always like to joke that he takes longer getting ready whenever the two of you have to go somewhere, but now that he is staring the timer on his phone, maybe he should use it as an evidence that you’re, in fact, wrong the next time you tease him about it. Not that he actually would do that, he is a gentleman, after all.

He’s just about to call out to you to hurry up when you beat him to it, “Baby, I need help, please!”

The nickname manages to bring the smallest of smiles to his face as he, without shouting anything back in response, gets up from his place on the couch and makes his way towards the bedroom. And that’s when his eyes land on you, in front of the full-sized mirror struggling  to zip up your dress. In just a few more steps he’s right behind you, his fingers itching to dance against the smooth skin of your back. “I thought you were going to wear the suit you brought, Peaches,” his voice comes off muffled as he presses a few kisses to the expose skin on your shoulder.

“I forgot to bring the shirt that goes with it,” your voice comes off shaky as you feel his lips drag on your skin, and you can hear his soft chuckle. Craning your neck to give him a small smile, you join in his laughter, “Zip me?” With a yielding kiss, Lewis wordlessly grabs the small zipper between his fingers, and when the moves the zipper, it makes you shriek out another laugh, “Up, Lewis, zip me up please!”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, pulling the zipper upward with a swift motion. The dress seamlessly hugs your figure, and he makes a show of checking you out from the mirror in front of you before meeting your eyes. “There you go, all zipped up,” Lewis announces triumphantly, ignoring your disapproving headshake, giving you a gentle pat on the back. You turn around, facing him with a grateful smile, and he can't resist leaning in for a sweet kiss. The connection between your lips is brief but warm.

“You like my dress?” You ask him and his enthusiastic nod makes your smile widen in satisfaction, “You don’t think it’s too short?”

Instead of answering your question with words, instead Lewis tsks, letting his dissatisfaction with your question known. He gently takes one of your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours and prompts you to spin around to give him a better look of your dress. He wraps his arms around your middle, his hand still firmly intertwined with yours, and presses a kiss on your shoulder right where the strap of your dress meets your skin. “Wear any dress you want, Peaches, Miles and I can handle anyone who gives you trouble for it.”

Chucking at his protective, yet playful, response, you pat his arm around your middle with your free hand, “Speaking of the devil, we should probably get going if we don’t want him to kill us both for being late.” Lewis makes a sound of contest, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulls you closer to himself. “Lu,” you let out a faux-exasperated sigh, “there is being late, and fashionably late, and I’m afraid we are way past the latter.

“Oh, darling,” you hear his breathy voice whisper against your skin as he places a couple of open mouthed kisses onto your exposed skin, “maybe we should stay back, hm? I can show you just how much I like your dress.” With one of his hands splayed on your stomach and his lips greeting your skin ever so often, you gasp when his lips find that one sweet spot he knows that makes your knees week. “Imagine how much fun we can have on our own, here, in our room.”

Throwing your head back to rest on his chest, a breathy chuckle falls from your lips, but you give him a stern look. “As much as I would love to stay back with you, we promised all of our friends we’ll be there.” As you rise up to your toes to give him a soft peck on the lips, you manage to break free from his arms, leaving him with a perpetual pout on his face. “When we get back, Mister Hamilton, you can do whatever you want to me.”

With your offer, the look on his face changes from a pout to a smirk. “Is that a promise, Peaches?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, darling,” you emphasise the word with an exaggerated version of his accent. “It’s a fact,” you return his look with a small smirk on your own as you add, “sir.”

Needless to say, the walk down to the lobby to get into your car is full of tension between the two of you. It’s not like Lewis can’t hold himself back, because he can. He has proven under many circumstances that he can withhold sex from you if he decides to do that. The most recent incident was when he caught you lurking around the Red Bull garage during the last race you’ve attended, which ended with you quite literally having to beg him to fuck you after a week of Lewis not even touching you. The walk down to the lobby is filled with stolen touches and knowing glances, with him trying to get you to kiss him every minute, not caring whether the people around you can hear him or not.

You give him a sideway look when the receptionist tells you that your limo for the night is waiting for you. “A limo?” You raise an eyebrow, looking at him for response.

He simply shrugs a shoulder, leaning down to mumble his response into your ear, “Miles was in charge of the car,” with his fingers giving your waist a firm squeeze, he manages to earn a silent shriek from you, “I’m sure we could do with the extra space, darling.”

“Behave, Lu.” You chastise him, but the corner of your mouth upturns nonetheless and you let Lewis guide you towards the car waiting for you.

Because he is the perfect gentleman he opens your door and helps you into the limo, pressing a lingering kiss on your hand before joining you. The inside of the limo is darker than you expected, but the city lights of Paris do a good enough job of illuminating the car. The condensation on the limo’s windows has your attention and Lewis watches and you trailing your finger along the glass, tracing the line a raindrop left behind. He contemplates, for a second, whether being jealous over a raindrop for commanding your attention could be considered weird or not, but he decides that he doesn’t really care.

He places a hand on your thigh, his touch is both reassuring and possessive, but when you turn your head towards him to look at him, the way he smiles at you and his thumb caresses your knee is incredibly sweet. He is a duality in himself, Lewis is. And you enjoy the way city lights illuminate his face, his smile soft as he leans over the middle of the seat to give you a sweet peck on your lips.

“What was that for?” you ask him, giggling as you place your hand over his on your thigh. He doesn’t answer, only shrugs his shoulders and grins as he pulls away from you, instantly making you seek him out again. You’re about to comment on his suddenly playful mood, when you realise the car is slowly coming to a stop, and you let out a breath of frustration when the driver informs you that you’ve hit traffic. And traffic in Paris on a Friday night? It’s safe to say that both of you know that you are not going anywhere fast.

The overall wait is not that bad, you think. Even though the traffic is crawling at a snail’s pace, you’re more than happy to be in the car where you can be with Lewis without the overwhelming sound of EDM music and sweaty bodies pushing you around in a crowded club. The same, however, cannot be said about your boyfriend.

As time passes and you’re, still, stuck in traffic, you can see Lewis getting more and more frustrated with the situation. You try not to comment on how annoyed he looks and let him have his silent moment of irritation. You gently squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile. “It's alright, Lewis. We'll get there eventually.”

He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. It's just... I hate being late.” He lets out another frustrated sigh as he gently pats the empty seat between the two of you. “Can you just come closer, please?”

“Why?” you ask, eyes narrowed down in suspicion as he somehow manages to pull you closer to himself, not that you would try to get out of the situation otherwise – with the amount of times you’ve found yourself suddenly sitting in Lewis’ lap, it’s almost as if you can’t get away from him when he’s next to you. “We can’t do anything,” you whisper in warning when you catch him giving you literal bedroom eyes.

Smirking at the anxious tone of your voice, he lets his hand wander down to your hip as he quickly manoeuvres you into his lap, despite all your warnings, and calls out to the driver loud enough for him to hear his voice, “Hey mate, can you pull up the partition, please?” You hear the sound of the partition going up as Lewis fiddles with the couple of the buttons on the door handle, and soon after you hear the faint sound of music playing in the car. He meets your eyes when you give him a funny look, silently asking him what he’s up to, but he responds with a faint smile as he rests his hand on your lower back.

Rolling your eyes at the antics of the driver sitting, literally, under you, you turn your attention back to the scenery outside the window. Going back to tracing the raindrops falling onto the glass window, you choose to focus on the outside view as best as you can, given the current position you’re in. Although you’ve warned him against it, Lewis’ hand on the lower of your back drawing circles into your skin gives you other ideas you would otherwise choose to ignore in a public setting.

“What are you up to, Lewis?” you ask, lips twitching in a need to smile as you do your best to supress it.  

He grins, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark as he gives you an innocent shrug of his shoulder. “Just making the most of the situation, darling.”

Letting out a resigning sigh, you try to focus back on the rain outside, but with Lewis’ hand getting bolder on your lower back and the fact that you find yourself shuffling in your seat with every subtle movement of the car makes it almost impossible to focus on anything but him. Deciding to find out just how much you can get away with, you  tilt your head back slightly, your lips hovering near his ear. “Are you trying to start a scandal, Mr. Hamilton?”

He chuckles, the vibrations from his laughter sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “I told you we'd make the most of it, didn't I?” Hid hand continues its teasing dance, eventually dipping lower and even under your dress, and you have to fight the urge to let out a moan at the feeling of his skin on yours. “We can make it into a challenge,” he offers, his voice low as he suggestively whispers on your skin, “see just how scandalous we can be in the back of a limo.”

“What if someone sees?” You mumble, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

His lips graze the curve of your neck, sending another shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked being watched, Peaches.” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk and a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your thigh, making you shuffle closer to him as a result. “Is that a yes?” Your eyes glance over at the closed up partition, but you nod your head nevertheless, though that doesn’t necessarily satisfy the man beside you. “Words, darling.”

“Yes, please.” The words escape your mouth and your hands slide down his body to work on the zipper of his dress pants. He gives you an amused look as you pull his zipper down, and kneel on the floor between his legs as elegantly as you can given the current situation you’re in. You hear him say your name in warning, giving you a way out, even though he was teasing you about your voyeuristic tendencies – and you might’ve considered taking it, if it weren’t for the fact that having him in your mouth is the only thing you can focus on at the moment. So, instead of pulling yourself up on Lewis’ lap and let him have his way with you, you carefully take his cock out, making sure to keep your eyes fixed on his during the whole process.

Giving him a few gentle strokes, you lean forward to lick the first few drops of precum that drips out of the head of his cock. The hiss he lets out when you take the head of his cock between your lips and suck on it gently makes you smirk, and so you swirl your tongue around the tip to get another reaction out of him. With the way his left hand grabs the door, you know Lewis is trying so hard not to just grab you by your hair and guide you the way he wants to. Humming at the taste of him, you widen your lips to fit more of him in your mouth and wrap both hands around his cock to pump the rest of his cock that you can’t fit into your mouth. As you slowly start bobbing your head up and down on his cock, the sounds leaving his mouth make you want to quicken up your pace, though you refrain from doing so. Maybe you shouldn’t be feeling so turned on by a mere sound of your boyfriend’s pleasure, but you can’t help yourself as you inadvertently rub your thigs together.

You continue the movements of your mouth, taking more of him every time you bob your head down, and Lewis gives in at some point, threading his hands through your hair and guiding you down until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. “Fuck, Peaches,” his low groan sends tingles down your spine, “just like that.” He looks so beautiful, you think, with his head thrown back and eyes closed.

Your hands work together with your mouth, picking up speed when you realise you have him at your mercy like this – it even makes you wetter, and you feel the wetness between your legs. Your eyes water as a sudden move from Lewis thrusting his hips causes your gag reflex to remind you both that it is there, causing you to pull back with a huff and send a glare his way. But he apologises by caressing the apple of your cheek and easing you back onto his cock.

Your power move, however, doesn’t last long, as Lewis lets out a groan, pulling your head off of him and leaning forward to lift you onto his lap. It’s not necessarily intentional when you grind yourself against his cock, causing both of you to moan simultaneously. Your head is thrown back when you feel his lips gliding on your feverish skin, and you even let out a breathy laugh when your head lulls to the side and you see the handprints he’s left in the mirror. “Lewis,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice low, suddenly very aware of the driver sitting in the front of the car, “if you don’t fuck me now, I think I might explode.”

“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, his hands on your hips lifting you up to position you over his cock. But you have other plans in mind. He lets out a breathy chuckle as you drag your lips over the skin of his neck, tracing his tattoos as you leave feverish kisses along the way. “What are you doing?” He asks, hands busying themselves to get you out of your underwear.

Nipping at his skin, which earns you Lewis squeezing your hip in warning in return, but you give him a pout as you pull back. “You didn’t let me finish you off, you impatient brute.”

“Brute?” He echoes, not able to stop himself from laughing at your choice of words, “Are you going to be a brat, hm?” He is more than happy to play along when you get into these moods, though he also knows how you can get when you don’t get something you want. So when you fix him with a glare of your own, he lets out a deep sigh as he wraps your hair around one of his hands and pull your head back to bare your neck to him. “And to think I thought you were going to be a good girl, I guess that’s my fault.”

The whine that leaves you would’ve been embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that he has you in the in the palm of his hand. “It’s not fair,” another whine leaves you, and you attempt rolling your hips against his erection resting against you in between your legs, but before you can find a rhythm, he halts your movements by tugging on your hair again. Curling your fingers around his shirt, you huff a breath of annoyance, whining out his name. “I’ll be good,” you promise, and let out a relieved sigh when he lets go of your hair to give you more freedom to move; you thank him with a few kisses.

“I know you will.” Lewis mumbles, hands finding your underwear again, but he quickly becomes frustrated when he realises the position you’re in will make it hard for him to get you out of them. So, taking an executive decision, he decides to rip them off your body. He gives you a look when you whine at the loss of your favourite pair, and he tries to salve the situation with a promise of buying you another pair. When you feel him between your legs, without any barriers this time, he is not surprised to see your immediate reaction. Though Lewis enjoys when you take control, he is impatient as he raises your hips, despite all your protest, and positions you over his cock.

You only have a few moments to adjust when he eventually lowers you onto his cock, and the initial stretch has you gasping out his name. He gives you a few minutes to adjust before slowly starting to move your hips, each move making you take him deeper until he’s buried to the hilt in you. One of your hands is pressed to the window for support out of reflex, trying to keep still as he uses the grip he has on your hips to move you in the rhythm he wants. It matches the mood pretty well, you think, everything is rushed and the sounds of the traffic and the music playing surrounding you becomes muffled as the pleasure takes over your body. You have to physically stop yourself from screaming every time he slams you down on his cock, faster and harder each time, relentless as he watches your face contort with pleasure.

Trying your best to match his thrusts, you grind your clit on every down stroke, making him somehow go even deeper, and making you moan even louder. There is an arrogant smirk on his face that you would love to wipe off, but with the way he’s making you feel, you decide to get him away with it. Dragging your hands down his shirt, you suddenly feel offended by the fact that he is covering his chest, and decide to get him out of it. This plan would’ve worked better if it weren’t for the fact that you end up ripping the buttons rather than being gentler with it. Not that Lewis complains about it, since this is most definitely not the first time something like this has happened. Your hands work on their own as you glide them through the smooth skin, slightly damp due to the warm temperature of the car, but every contact with his skin seems to make you roll your hips faster and harder.

He has to close one of his hands over your mouth since the moans that leave you get considerably higher in volume with every waking second. His lips curl up in a smile as you silently beg him with your eyes, your movements becoming sloppier with every down stroke. “I’m going to remove my hand and help you come, but you’re going to be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?” His voice carries a warning tone, and you frantically nod, assuring him that you’ll follow his instructions.

Keeping true to his word Lewis takes away his hand, making you take a deep breath as he grabs your hips. His hold on your hips is bruising, and you’re certain you’ll have marks to remember tonight for a while – especially with the way he uses his hold to move you on his cock in a rhythm he wants to. It doesn’t take you a long time to feel the overwhelming pleasure starting to build up in your lower stomach. “Please,” you whine, nails biting into his skin as your other hand is splayed over the window for support, “I’m so close.”

“Come on,” Lewis encourages you, hands working you over his cock even faster to get you where you need to be, “give it to me, I got you.” And with him looking at you like that, using your body however he wants to? It doesn’t take long for you to feel yourself coming around him, head thrown back and lips parted in a silent scream. With a last thrust, you feel him also spill himself into you, the act being greatly intimate despite the current predicament you’re both in at that moment.

A sound of surprise leaves the back of your throat when he begins to move under you, positioning you to stand on all fours as he positions himself behind you. “Wha– What are you doing?” You ask, craning your neck to look at him with hazy eyes.

“Oh, Peaches,” he coos, one of his hands caressing your skin down your thighs and up towards your hip again, “did you think we were done? We still have a long way back to the hotel.”

“But, the club?” You find yourself asking, cheeks burning when he uses his finger to push the wetness dripping out of you back in.

“We were never going to make it to that club anyway,” Lewis drags his lips up your spine until he reaches your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck before whispering, “what do you think? Should we make the most out of the way back?”

Your eyes slide towards the handprints left on the window, the Paris lights shining through the streaks both of your handprints have left behind. Maybe under different circumstances you would’ve insisted you go to the club to meet with your friends. But at that moment? You instinctively push your hips back onto his, and feel his smile on your skin as he runs his hands through your body, ready for another round simply because you two can’t keep away from each other.

[primofate]

Genshin Angst Headcanons - Why the two of you broke up

Note: Had an unexpected free day! I haven't written in a while, please excuse the mistakes, if any.

Disclaimer at the end of the post

Warning: Some are pretty predictable. Each of them have their own issues, lore wise, so some are lore heavy. You might not agree with some of them, but its how I see it, so to each their own. Let me know what you think! Some are quite angsty. Some scenes it's you breaking up with him and some are vice versa. Didn't feel like writing Razor, Venti and Xingqiu.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Personal Favourites in this work: Lyney, Itto, Kazuha

Aether

Sister issues. Enough said.

He realized he didn't have enough time to spare romancing with someone.

Somewhere along the way he felt guilt that he was enjoying his time with you while his sister went through some sort of villain origin story that seemingly turned her bad.

Top off all the adventuring, searching, solving problems for other people that he did...Where did that leave you, exactly?

"...I'm sorry, Y/N... I just... I don't think this is the right time for me to be together with you,"

Albedo

Contrary to popular belief it wouldn't be his lack of time or extreme focus on his alchemical experiments that would break the two of you up. He knows how to manage his time.

It was the RESULTS of experiments and his research that would put him away from you.

The possibility that HE or his world, was way too dangerous for you.

How many "Albedos" did Rhinedottir really create? Was there more than three? Perhaps four, five? And what happens when you come face to face with another Albedo?

"I'm afraid...There are far too many dangers surrounding myself... There are answers that I can't find...and perhaps that's the reason why my answer is to part ways with you,"

Alhaitham

Too much of a nonchalant attitude.

He expressed some kind of interest in you...but it's like... once in a blue moon. 95% of the time you're not sure if he's really into you. It almost seems like he's more into that book he reads all the time.

Simply just not good at expressing himself. Like, at all. Hides behind a "whatever works" and "I don't care about what other people think of me" attitude, unfortunately that seems to include you.

Is so straightforward that sometimes it hurts, but he's really just telling the truth through logical analysis.

will act like the breakup didn't hurt nor affect him at all. In turn it hurts you instead.

"I see. So you've had enough of me... And you only spoke up now? Pointing it out earlier could've diverted us from this path...If that's how you feel already I suggest that we stop seeing each other,"

"That's it? You're not even going to try and work it out with me?"

"What's there to work out? You've made yourself clear. You're not satisfied with the way I treat you, and I'm afraid I'm not going to change the way I act just for your pleasure... It'd be more meaningful for you to find someone who fits your criterias,"

Ayato

entering a relationship with a noble was not as easy as one thought.

It's not just about being together forever and feeling lucky because Ayato is rich and your whole life is set, it's also the not fitting in, the etiquette, the whispers from townfolk that you were too ordinary for him, the work that you needed to do if you were to become his wife.

All that was not really a big problem for you, but Ayato seemed not to know of your struggles, he was extremely busy, and when he wasn't, he seemed to think that everything was well and fine, since you were getting all your basic needs met and even more.

"...So I'm sorry, Ayato. This is just... All too much for me. I'm sorry,"

"...I understand. Forgive me, it seems that I've overlooked a lot of things...Perhaps it is as you say, that it'd be better for us to grow apart rather than grow together,"

Baizhu

because he is a ticking time bomb, no matter which way he looked it's not going to end well for both of you.

He either dies early or lives forever. In both scenarios he anticipates that the two of you are just going to be in a world of hurt.

Besides, he didn't mean to get so attached to someone in the first place, he knew his quest for immortality was long and arduous. You didn't deserve to walk that difficult road too.

While breaking up, will conceal the fact that he's only thinking of you and will possibly hurt you in the process.

"I'm sorry, but it's for the best. I ask that you continue going forward without me, there's no space for you in my... ideal future,"

Bennett

We all know it...it's his bad luck. However, it wasn't YOU who had a problem with it, it was HIM.

You understood that his bad luck was just some extended part of him, plus it's not like it was always bad, there were a lot of good times too. Plenty!

But the guilt ate him up whenever the two of you were stuck in a seemingly impossible scenario and predicament, brought on by his luck. He just had enough of it one day.

"I...I can't keep doing this to you every day! It's not fair..."

will be on the brink of tears before he even starts.

"Maybe it's better if you find someone else to adventure with, Y/N, sorry...!"

runs away before you can even get a word in.

Chongyun

Thinks he's not good enough in every aspect. It's really, seriously not about you. He thinks he's lacking in everything. Strength, maturity, experience, confidence.

So badly wants to stay with you but feels like he's not good enough and thinks that you're better off with someone else.

"D-Don't misunderstand... It's not because I don't like you anymore... I just...Please find someone else!"

Cyno

his bad jokes and TCG addiction. just kidding, you're not that shallow.

A lot of people are intimidated by him being the General Mahamatra because he gives importance to justice. While you, who had seen a bit more of him than other people had, it seemed more of an obsession to uphold the Akademiya's law and integrity.

This was not a big problem to you, you liked how he was serious at work.

Until one day when you were accused of plagiarising one of your papers and Cyno was the one sent to give you a first offense warning. The Akademiya knew of your relationship, that's probably why they sent him, to make it harder on the two of you.

Cyno didn't listen to your explanations on how it was an honest mistake, he still gave you the warning that you "deserved"

From then on it had just been different between the two of you, so it was really a mutual breakup. Or so you thought.

"...After that, I just realized that maybe this isn't the right time for us... We're both working for the Akademiya, we both take our jobs seriously...Unfortunately that seems to just be getting in the way of us...I think it's best if we stop seeing each other,"

"...I see." he pauses for a minute, as if tossing your words in his mind. "I...agree. Parting ways would certainly make work easier for both of us...it's the professional thing to do,"

Dainsleif

Has not moved on from his past.

Sure, everyone has their own baggage to carry, their own history to live through...but Dainsleif has heavier things than that. He seemed to wake up every day thinking of Khaenri'ah and the days long past. Was it regret? Nostalgia? Loneliness? You didn't know. You just knew that he wasn't really completely THERE with you in the present. Part of him still lived in the past.

When you explained that you felt like the two of you were not moving forward together and that it seemed like he wanted to go back to the past instead, he got offended.

"...My past is something that I carry forever, you'd claimed that you understood that," he starts.

"I do! But carrying it with you and letting it drag you backwards are two different things!"

He falters for a moment, only to leave you with his last words before turning away from you forever: "You will never understand, the weight that I carry,"

Diluc

is too guarded. You'd been friends for a long, long, long, long time before he decided he could let you in enough and be more intimate with you.

Even then everything was going at a snail's pace, though you were extremely patient with him.

The biggest problem with Diluc was that the two of you would progress one day, take a step forward, and then the next day it was like the two of you took two steps back.

Example: The two of you went out for a simple stargazing excursion late one night, it was nice and he had been incredibly affectionate. The next day he had trouble even meeting your gaze, and disappeared to do his work. It was also a little awkward during dinnertime. This scenario had happened more than once.

Hint: the closer he got to you the more afraid he became, thinking that he would one day lose you too.

"I...I can't. I love you but I...I've waited far too long. I'm sorry. I'm tired of this endless chase for you!"

He couldn't even say a thing. He'd wanted to ask you to stay, to wait for him a little longer, but he already knew how incredibly selfish that would have been. Instead, he grimaced, and looked away from your gaze, trying to find something worthwhile to say. There was only silence for a few moments.

"Goodbye Diluc," that's when you turned away.

Gorou

worships Kokomi too much and your insecurities just kept circling around in your head.

You know its his job. You know he isn't like that but the problem was YOU and not him.

Simply said you let your insecurity eat up the relationship between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to say that you were jealous of the way he admired Kokomi so you broke up with him with another reason in tow.

Unfortunately, you're not a very good liar face to face so you did a butthole move and actually broke up with him through a letter. You just couldn't face him and tell him why.

All you mentioned in the letter was that you needed time to think and be away from him, and told him not to worry because it was your problem, not his.

Poor Gorou reread that letter over and over, trying to understand what went wrong.

Heizou

is just a natural flirt. You're not sure if he's doing it on purpose or not and you're not sure if he's even aware he's like that.

Anyway you'd seen him getting overly friendly (just another word for flirting) with a few other people a couple of times. You didn't let it get to you the first, fourth or even eighth time but you realized that he KNOWS that you're watching him do that.

So you confront him about it, but he claims that it's just his way of gathering information from others. People like to hear good things and some people are more susceptible to flirtatious comments so he resorts to that for his investigation sometimes.

You didn't really completely buy it and even if you did, it's not like this was healthy for your relationship. You just couldn't make yourself comfortable with it.

*You just chalked it up to the two of you being incompatible.

"I'm just not comfortable with that...I don't think I have to say sorry for how I feel but...I'm sorry anyway because I know you're just doing your job... It's probably best if we part ways here..."

"Is there any way to change your mind?" he genuinely asks.

You only give a lopsided smile. "You're a detective, I think you already know the answer to that,"

Yet he didn't stop you from walking away.

Itto

Kept breaking promises because he was too airheaded or too occupied doing something "stupid" with the kids or with his gang.

Pretty soon it just felt like you were an afterthought while everyone else in his life took precedent.

Got a ramen date? Oops, sorry! Got caught up looking for a strong onikabuto in the forest!

Needed his help to move some things? Gah, he was vandalising the bulletin boards, so he's running a bit late!

What's more you didn't actually mind that carefree, airheaded side of him...but it really got to you when he couldn't even seem to make you a priority. Not once.

He only realized that when he came running, late again, and stood face to face with a crying you.

"Hey sorry Y/N, I was just--...Why are you crying?!" is completely dumbfounded and clueless, mostly because when he came late, you had always shrugged it off with a smile on your face, or so he thought. This time you had a completely different reaction.

"I hate you...*hic* I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Shocked beyond belief. It wasn't like you to just blow up like that, but he couldn't do anything except watch you turn and run away from him after that exclamation.

Kaeya

Sometimes you're not sure if he takes you seriously.

Recently, he's not where he says he is, you don't know why he doesn't just tell you where he is.

He said he'd be working late, but then you find out he's at Angel's Share.

He said he'll be at Angel's Share, but then you catch word from Jean that he's out on a late mission.

He said he's escorting a caravan to Mondstadt but he's actually on assignment in Liyue.

It came to the point where you altogether just stopped looking for him cause half of the time you couldn't find him. It's like he's avoiding you or something, which, actually, seems just about right since he's been so busy with "work"

It reached a breaking point when, for a week, you were unable to bring him the lunch you prepared...because he was not where he said he was going to be. It was starting to get annoying.

"I don't understand why you're lying to me! Why do you have to tell me you'll be at Angel's Share this afternoon when you're not? Do you realize you make me walk all the way there only to come all the way back with nothing achieved?"

"I'm sorry snowflake, that wasn't my intention," though he still chuckles despite knowing full well that you were about to turn away.

"You know what, let me know when you're ready to stop making jokes. Until then, don't bother contacting me,"

He just didn't expect you to actually walk away from him.

Kaveh

Entertains everyone and anyone. Naturally kind at heart, will stop for anyone in trouble...even that flirtatious man/woman who is clearly just pining for his attention.

No he doesn't quite realize this.

The same person had asked for his help at least 4 times now and all 4 times he had been happy to offer a helping hand.

The last straw was when he was invited into the stranger's house, they had apparently needed someone to help them move and re-arrange furniture and he did, working till almost dinner time.

You'd caught him right by the person's door, because Kaveh was actually honest and told you he'd be helping them today, but the person was clearly eyeing Kaveh rather flirtatiously.

"Come again next time," you heard the person say rather happily. Kaveh only replies with "If I have nothing else to do, I suppose,"

"Kaveh, they're coming onto you and you keep letting it happen!"

"I'm not certain what you're talking about...They just needed some help around their house, nothing suspicious happened at all. Even if there was, I won't let anything happen between me and a stranger!"

"Then STOP helping them!"

"There isn't anything wrong with lending a hand...It was a quick move of things, that's all,"

"How would YOU feel if I just went into someone's house and kept helping them "move" things?"

"...I would think that's nice of you,"

You actually threw your hands up. "Oh, forget it! You know what, for someone who LOVES helping others, you're not doing such a great job of helping ME," then walked away and never came back. "Good riddance,"

Kazuha

He's a wandering samurai. You knew what you were getting into but you didn't expect dating him to be so hard.

He was gone for weeks on end, and you were not getting on that boat with him. In essence the two of you were just not ready to follow each other to the end's of the Earth, and that was fair. The two of you were young.

Kazuha kind of saw it coming, whenever he visited you, you seemed less spirited and he had an inkling as to why. The time apart was just too much for you.

It was a rather clean break actually. A real mutual breakup that the two of you agreed on.

"...You could say it's just not the right time for us," you even managed to laugh under your breath and he did the same, though it was barely audible.

"...Mm. There are matters that you need to attend to here...and there are things that I need to do out there," he slowly stood up from his sitting position next to you and still gazed at you rather lovingly. "...Perhaps, in another world, you and I are bound together,"

You gazed back forlornly, "...Just not in this one, it looks like,"

Lyney

because he will always choose his siblings over you. Always.

Though that's not a bad thing because you also think that family is important...somewhere along the way you realized that family is the ONLY thing he had and saw.

Example: Lynette and you had gotten ill at the same time one winter morning. Perhaps it was the cold that was passing around Fontaine. Lyney had been so worried about Lynette, that he seemed to have forgotten about you for the next few days. In fact, Lyney didn't even realize that you caught the cold too. You had only heard from Freminet, who you happened to cross paths with, that Lynette was also ill.

You thought that incident was the end of it, but really it seemed that whenever Lyney wanted to hang out with you, Lynette had to be there too. You tried to understand...after all there's still that mystery of disappearing women in Fontaine.

The breakup was induced when Lyney completely forgot about your birthday, because Freminet's was around the same time as yours. You helped Lyney prepare everything for Freminet, and said nothing about your own.

You realized that there was nothing wrong with choosing family over everything else...but the problem here was that Lyney didn't even have space for you in the first place.

So you left without saying anything. You figured he'd get over it quick. You had even gone so far as to move away from the main city of Fontaine and out into another island, because what would you say if he found you? That you were jealous of his siblings? You weren't going to ruin a family like that and it wasn't right to make him choose...so you just left without a word.

Neuvillette

Had a whole brainrot for this man:

Part 1

Part 2

Scaramouche

surprisingly it's not his anger issues.

It's the way he wouldn't acknowledge your relationship. You wonder how you even got into one with him.

There's no public show of affection, but even behind closed doors it rarely happened.

You knew that he was going to be like that, and so you didn't mind it all that much.

It was getting a bit much though when, out in public, he would walk further in front of you and refused to walk next to you. When he pretended like he didn't even know you. When he didn't stop to help you even when another man had shown interest in you, bordering on uncomfortable.

The more time passed the more you simply felt unloved...but for some reason you still blamed yourself.

"...I...don't know. Maybe you find me undesirable, or just...unappealing. Maybe you're embarrassed of me or...or..." maybe you just didn't care in the first place, you thought to yourself.

There was a long silence. Of you turning your gaze away, of him still piercing into yours. And then...

"Tsk...don't waste my time...Leave if you want to leave, door's open,"

Tartaglia

This one is simple. It's his obsession for fighting plus his complete disregard for himself. It's a constant heart attack for you. At some point the anxiety is just too much for you to handle.

Imagine living every day just wondering if he's safe at the same time knowing that he just loves to look for trouble.

The foul legacy that you know of, he uses it with disregard as well, despite knowing that it wasn't good for him.

And there are even days where you know he was heavily wounded but didn't go to you, in an attempt to shield you from worry.

It's a constant battle trying to stay sane and unworried, until one day it all just becomes too much.

"...Nothing I say will change anything, Tartaglia. This is who you are...This is who you need to be..." you whisper while bandaging his knuckles. He lets out a short hum.

It was silent all up until you finished with his hand, you squeeze it gently. "...I love you but...I can't keep doing this to myself, I'm tired...more so than I have ever been before,"

He lets your hand slip away from his knuckles, and that was the last he saw of you.

Thoma

This one is also simple. He was always taking care of others and running errands for others that he sometimes just couldn't catch a break.

Just a classic case of not enough time for you since he had a job to do for the Kamisato Clan.

He knows it, and feels awful about it. So he's the one who makes the move.

"It hurts that I can't give you what you deserve, Y/N. This isn't it... You deserve more than this but I can't give you that and I'm sorry. Please look for the love that you deserve,"

Tighnari

Remembers everything. Can be critical of things you've done, specially if he thinks there's a better way to do it.

Simply said you just feel stupid in front of him sometimes.

He doesn't mean to, but he sometimes forgets to appreciate or give praise to the things that you do well and even if he does, it tends to be short lived compared to his constructive criticisms.

Pretty soon you felt like he only looks at the bad things you do, and never the good. Though he was really only trying to teach and guide you as an equal.

He in fact feels that you are one of the few people who can keep up educational conversations with him.

The problem is he kind of forgets that you're his lover, and that you would enjoy his praise and affection from time to time.

"Do you... Do you ever have anything nice to say other than 'good work' or 'great observation'?" the words were out of your mouth before you could hold yourself back. Sometimes it was tiring to feel like you weren't good enough.

There's a flash of surprise that crosses Tighnari's expression for a split second, before he recovers. "...Had I not been praising your work enough lately? My apologies... It has a lot of merits, I just thought that you wanted my opinion on how to make it better,"

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again right after to ponder on his words. Somehow even that had managed to make you feel embarrassed. It was here you knew that the problem also lied within yourself.

"...Sorry, Tighnari...I think I'll need some time alone,"

He obliges quickly and asks. "That's reasonable. When would you like me to come back?"

"...Let me rephrase that... I need some time away. From us."

Xiao

Unfortunately there's a lot of things wrong here... his lack of affection. His aloof personality. His dedication to his yaksha duties. Despite that he does actually try to be gentlemanly or respectful of you.

The worst of it is that he didn't know how to be in a relationship, in other words he just wasn't ready for one, or perhaps he would never be ready for one.

He didn't understand that humans craved companionship and sometimes touch. He didn't understand that meant having to favour you over others, sometimes even putting you first over his yaksha duties.

Worst of it all was when he shut himself off from you, sometimes for days on end, when his karmic debt was too high. He only really did it to protect you, but never realized how isolated that made you feel.

When you confronted him about it, he felt attacked. Hiding away was the only way he knew how to cope...why couldn't you understand that?

"Let me help you, Xiao,"

"I don't need your help!" his tone would make you wince and just like that he disappears into a billow of smoke.

You never returned to Wangshu Inn after that. If he couldn't let you in, there was no use trying to knock on his heart. Xiao being Xiao, never sought you ought again either.

Zhongli

He had experienced so many things and you had listened to many a tales from him.

This is what caused you to realize that you hadn't even experienced life at all, and yet here you were willing to tie yourself down to him.

It just didn't feel like it added up. Here he was with all this knowledge of the world and here you were who had never even stepped outside of Liyue. By no means were you stupid, but you felt that you could be better not only for him, but for yourself if you learned more.

There was just such a huge gap in life experiences, and though you never expected to get to his level (he was a God who had lived for a long time, you would never catch up to him) you at least wanted to see what was out there with your own eyes instead of through his stories.

He understood that wholeheartedly, and had no qualms in letting you go.

"You will always have a place with me, Y/N. No amount of lifetimes will change that,"

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Disclaimer: Relationships will always have some sort of problem along the way, maybe big, maybe small but I just want to reiterate that breaking up is not always the solution. Communicating is very important. So to those of you who like taking fanfiction too seriously, let it be known that this is just a work of fiction. I don't actually suggest breaking up with someone as soon as there is the slight indication of a problem (Just saw someone commenting on a similar themed post for Haikyuu that this wouldn't happen in the real world if both parties were mature... I mean, sure, but, idk, you must be fun in parties... it's called fiction for a reason...)

[mushies-stories]

Drinking- how TF141 handles a clingy drunk reader for the first time

PART ONE- Price and Soap

PART TWO- Ghost and Gaz

F!Reader

Warnings: drunk reader, little tiny bit suggestive... think that's it?

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle had gotten off work a bit early, the mission going faster than expected but just as tiring. The only thing on his mind was seeing you, he needed to feel your soft body against his.

He called you from his car, figuring it was early enough and you'd still be awake. He was correct, but when you answered the phone you didn't sound like your usual self. Your words are slow and a little slurred. “Baby, ya okay?” he asks.

You hum a response. “M’okay, just been drinking a little.” you tell him. 

“Sounds like it, you alone at home love?” he asks, a little nervous. It wasn't like you to get drunk by yourself, or really that often at all actually.

“Yeah… but could you come over, please.” your voice was a little shaky and it twisted something in Kyle's gut. 

“Of course lovie. Be there in just a bit, eh?” he tells you. His drive was faster than normal, you sounded off and it worried him. His only thought was to get to you and the elevator ride up to your flat seemed endless. 

When you entered he saw you sitting on the couch, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, glass of red wine and an almost empty bottle next to it. 

Your head turned when you heard his steps and the sound of his shoes being kicked off. “Kyle.” you say quietly. Standing you shed the blanket and take a few shaky steps towards him. 

He rushed to meet you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against himself. Your own arms wrap around his middle, gripping the back of his shirt. “What's wrong love, why ya crying?” he asks, voice tender and soft. His warm eyes looking over your tear stained cheeks before wiping a tear away. 

You give him a small shrug. “I'm just so tired, and work was stressful. I just wanted to relax a little and I knew you are normally at the base late...” you admit. 

Kyle hums softly before kissing the top of your head. “Well, drinking is no way to feel better, right lovie?” he asks, making sure you look at him by guiding your face to look at his. “Next time, just let me know, be over as soon as i can.” he tells you. 

You give him a small smile. “I will, I'm sorry I know I was overreacting.”

“None of that love, let's just get ya to bed.” he says with a sweet smile. You lean into his touch and nod. 

He figured after such a stressful day you should take a hot bath. Topped with some essential oils he found it was ready. You both relax in the warm water. Kyle behind you so you can rest your head on his chest. 

“Thank you kyle.” you mumble. Eyes closed and soldering his arms around you, you sigh constantly. “I love you.” you add, a little slower and sleepier. 

Kyle smiles down at you. Perfectly content in his arms, just as he wanted. Here to keep you safe and happy. “Anything for your lovie, I love ya too.” he says. Just above a whisper, the last coherent words you heard before drifting off. 

When you had dozed off Kyle gathered your body in his arms and brought you to bed then wrapped you in a fluffy towel. The whole time you barely even stirred in your sleep. He crawled in next to you and wrapped you in his arms once again, this time pulling your head to his chest, arm holding you back so your firm against him. 

He kisses your nose. “Goodnight love.” he says. That night you both slept soundly. Kyle happily content with your bare body against his own.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

Simon had called after getting back from a long mission, wanting to see you instead of going home alone. All he needed at the moment was your arms wrapped around him. 

To his delight you had picked up, even in the late hour. To his disappointment however, it sounded like you were out with friends.

That didn't seem to mean much to you. Judging by your excited time when you answered. “Si? You home already?” you ask, smile evident in your tone. 

He smiles to himself. “Yeah, sound busy though doll, see ya tomorrow?” he offers. 

You make a sound of displeasure. “But I gotta see you tonight Si, please? I'll get an uber right now!” Simon just chuckles and tells you to stay put, he will come and get you. 

Not even twenty minutes later and you're in his passenger seat with his hand on your bare thigh and a drunkenly sweet smile plastered across your face. You loved admiring Simon, even with most of his face concealed. Everything about him made you drawn to him. 

“See something ya like love?” Simon chuckles and glances over to you. His hand on your thigh squeezes the soft skin.

You nod and giggle. “Always see something I like around you, Si.” 

He snorts before paying attention to the road, eyes focus on getting home. You babbled about your night with your friends and he nodded along, humming in response when he needed to agree with you, all the while his hand rests on your warm plush thigh and a small smile plays at his lips. 

You were adorable. The way you stared at him the whole time like he was the moon, the way your hands laid atop his and gripped it when you talked. 

He loved the attention. From you, and only you that is. Loved that you just wanted to see him, needed too. 

When you got back to his place, he carried you in. insisting that the stairs were too much for you and it would be faster. “S’alright love, just let me bring you up. Be much faster.” he explained.

The whole way you kissed at his neck, making sure to lift his mask enough so you could pepper them to his jawline. “Lovie, none of tha. S’to late and you.” he glanced down at you and your blushing cheeks, warm from the alcohol. “Are much too hammered.” he chuckles, stepping into his flat before closing and locking the door. 

“But Si… I missed you so much, you were gone for a whole week.” you pout softly up at him after he set you down on his bed.

One of his hands comes out to cradle the side of your head, making you look up at him and hold his gaze. “Don't worry lovie, when your pretty little head is pounding tomorrow, I'll make sure to do everything I can to help you forget about it.” he promises. 

I shiver rolls down your back and you smile dumbly up at him, the thought of what to come already turning the little gears in your head. Simon however forces you to push the thoughts aside and get ready for bed instead.

With you in only his shirt, his mask set aside and his protective arm wrapped securely around your middle, you start to drift off. “Love you Simon, can't wait for tomorrow.” 

Simon kisses the side of your head. “Love you too doll, can't wait.”