#surely no one is allowed to be this beautiful

[rafeandonlyrafe]

mexico

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, soft!rafe, established relationship, overbearing/annoying parents, proposal, marriage talk

“and why would i not want to come?” rafe questions, a soft smile on his face as he looks over to you.

“my family can be… a lot sometimes. i wouldn't blame you if you couldn't be around them for a whole two weeks.” you explain softly.

“but then i would have to be away from you for two whole weeks.” rafe hums. “i can put up with them if it means being with you.”

“stop it.” you whine out. “you're gonna make me all blushy.”

“i love how easily i get you all flustered.” rafe laughs, pulling you onto his lap.

you've purposely only let rafe around your parents in small doses. they can be overwhelming, intense, and if they get on your nerves, they'll certainly get on rafes.

rafe holds you closer to his chest, his mouth finding yours. you allow him to kiss you for a minute before you pull away, much to rafes dismay as he frowns.

“okay, so to prepare you for them-”

“kiss first.” rafe interrupts. “prepare later.”

you can't argue with that logic.

--

“rafe, did you remember your socks and underwear?”

“mom!” you gasp. “he's a grown man, oh my god. you don't need to announce that in a crowded airport.” you hiss out the last part, a warning against any of her antics, not that it does anything to dull her.

“oh, relax sweetie.” she laughs. “i just don't want your boyfriend to have to get to mexico only to have to buy a pack of undies.”

“oh my god.” you grab rafe, pulling him a bit farther away from your parents, hopefully meaning they won't talk to either of you as much. “im so sorry about them.”

“hey, it's fine.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head. “just think about mexico. we're going to get there and lay out on the beach just the two of us. ill take you shopping and we'll spend all our money on tourist traps.”

“yeah, when my dad isn't forcing us to go to museums or cultural sites and my mom isn't snapping 1,000 pictures of us.” you look over at your parents only to realize your mom is taking a picture of you at this very moment.

your groan is drowned out by rafes laughter.

--

“mama, we are going out to the beach!” you call.

“oh, goodness!” she quickly rushes into the living room, the back patio opening up right onto the sand.

“be back in time for dinner, dears!” she says, grabbing a bottle of sunscreen and adding it to your bag.

“we'll be just outside, mom.” you say, allowing her to kiss both your cheeks. despite finding your parents overwhelming at times, you love them and know they love you too.

“rafe, she burns easily. make sure you reapply for her.” your mom says, pressing a kiss to his cheek as well.

“yes ma'am.” rafe nods.

you make your way outside before she can say anything else, walking until you're closer to shore.

“let me know when you need more sunscreen.” rafe smirks at you as you both lay out towels. “im always down to get my hands on your body.” 

“perv.” you laugh, making rafe growl and reach over to tickle your sides, ending up lying on the same towel in a heap.

--

your hand in rafes is the biggest solace as your dad continues on about the history of the town, deigning himself an honorary tour guide.

“sorry about this.” you squeeze rafes hand. it was interesting at first, but now that you're on the third hour of explanation about the architecture of one building or how the streets were made, it's becoming boring and manatonis.

“no problem.” rafe hums. “seriously you gotta stop apologizing, baby. your parents aren't that bad, plus, they made you, so i kinda have to thank them for that.”

“oh you're so sweet.” you whine, leaning in to turn your voice into a whisper. “you are absolutely getting laid tonight.”

“and you are absolutely getting treated to a beautiful and private dinner. i already talked to your mom about it. she called me a little romantic.” rafe smirks.

--

“you are a little romantic.” you giggle, reaching across the table to hold rafes hand, the flame of the candle flickering in between the two of you, appetizers and entrees finished, waiting for a dessert to split to be brought out to you.

“have to tell your mom she was right.” 

“hopefully they're asleep when we get back.” you can't help the smirk that stretches over your cheeks.

“oh, you are desperate for it, huh?” rafe laughs, sitting back as the waiter brings you out a chocolate cake dripping in fudge.

“it's been like four whole days, of course im desperate.”

--

“oh fuck.” you whisper, head tilted back against the sheets, rafe between your legs, thrusting mercilessly inside of you.

“god, you're so warm.” rafe hums out, burying his cock inside of you repeatedly.

“to-touch me.” you whine out, rafe instantly knowing what you're really asking for. “i need it.”

rafe drops his hand to your clit, rubbing it as he feels you pulsing around him as your high builds.

“nice and tight for me baby. and so wet.” rafe hums out, struggling to keep his voice low since your parents are asleep not far away.

“gonna cum- rafe!” you let out a gasp. “gonna cum, please.”

rafe moves as fast as his tired legs will allow, wishing he wasn't so worn out from the very long walk around the city with your father.

he makes up for his lack of pace with his thumb on your clit, rubbing and flicking over your bud until your high breaks.

your back arches off the bed with a moan as you cum probably a little too loud, rafe releasing inside of you only a moment later with a moan of his own.

--

“some mama and me time would be nice.” you smile, looking at the spa package your mom laid out in front of you.

“mhm. and your dad has something planned for him and rafe.” she says, looking over to your boyfriend.

“are you okay with that?” you ask, looking over at him as he eats his bacon.

“sure.” he nods. “would be nice to get to know him. one on one, ya know.”

--

“where are we going?” rafe questions, looking out the taxi window as it takes him further into the city.

“a shop.” your father just hums out, leaving it at that.

“okay.” rafe allows the silence to settle until they reach the store. he understands exactly why he's been brought here as he sees the storefront, advertising glittering bracelets and diamond rings.

“sir, i should let you know-” rafe clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to pull out the velvet box. “i already have what i think you brought me here to influence me to buy.”

your father's eyebrows raise in surprise as rafe continues.

“i haven't asked your permission yet, but i know i want to marry your daughter. i love her very much.”

“we would be honored to have you become part of our family, son.” your dad says, clearing his throat as tears well in his eyes.

--

“last night.” you hum, looking out onto the the water, the moonlight glittering over the waves.

“actually-” rafe smiles, tucking you further into his side. “we are extending our trip by a week. your parents are going home, though.”

“really?” your eyes widen.

“they insisted, actually.” he chuckles. “on one condition.”

“what's the condition?” you question as rafe sinks to his knees pulling out a box.

“that you say yes.”

[cheriladycl01]

And who are you? - Oscar Piastri x McLarenHeir! Reader

Plot: Granddaughter of Bruce McLaren comes to a race.

Credit to u-u-piastri81 for the GIF

Warning: I think maybe some people have considered this a little misogynistic. Obviously women in motorsport has improved and gotten better, but there are still issues involving this and I just wanted to bring some of them to light. I never meant to cause offence so here’s a little warning for that if it not for you!

Again this is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent anyone accurately!

You were the grand-daughter of one of the most iconic men in Formula One. Not only did he have his own team, but he drove for that team as well which resulted in McLaren sports cars all over the world.

When Zac offered you to come to a grand prix, everyone in the team was dreading it. From what they knew you were just another social media girlie obsessed with getting into an F1 race for the clout. However they were oh so wrong.

You'd been karting since a young age, and knew your way around all kind of cars. You were an encyclopedia of everything motorsport and cars. You'd gone to university and studied engineering so you knew more about it all so you were excited to speak to everyone.

You pulled up in your one of a kind McLaren X-FM, perks of sharing a last name with a car and having big stakes in the business.

"Zac!" you exclaimed as you saw him and run over to him. You pull him in for a tight hug and he hugs you back.

"How's my best girl doing?" he grins looking down at you and you nod furiously. You talk for a little longer before he leads you into the garage.

"Dude what are they all hovering around!" Lando asks looking at 9 or 10 of the drivers stood around something. Lando and Oscar walk over to see the most beautiful orange car in the parking lot. It wasn't rare to see beautiful cars at the grand prix because of all the drivers that were there but this was next level.

"Lando did you get a new car?" Carlos asks in awe, elbowing his friend.

"No, I wish this was my car!" Lando sighs running his hand along the edge.

"Oh my gosh, please please be careful if your touching my car!" you cry running over to all the drivers, you'd forgotten your bag of gifts for the team and drivers and came back to get them.

"T-this is your car?" Lewis asks in shock.

"Yes?" you say holding up the keys and opening the door, Charles looking at Lewis in shock.

"Can i sit in it?" Pierre asks looking at you with a grin.

All the drivers weren't only in awe of their car but the girl that had just come running up asking them to be careful of the car.

"Sure..." you say and let him open the door.

"Lando Oscar! It's great to finally meet you!" you smile, your bubbly friendly nature pulling them in for a joint hug. You watch behind them as drivers look inside the car and switch out whose sat in the drivers seat.

"And who are you?" Oscar asks crossing his arms over his chest, not looking to impressed at the current moment.

"Oh my names Y/N! I'm a guest of McLaren today!" you smile, and everyone there just fell in love with you even more.

"Wait... i know you. You're Y/N McLaren!" Max grins, and you look down with a blush.

"Wait ... you're Bruce McLaren's grand-daughter?" Carlos asks looking you up and down, and he was starting to realize Max was right. Your New Zealand accent being the biggest give away.

"Wait, so you like own the company?" Lando asks with a shocked look. You giggle a little before shaking your head.

"No, I have shares in it but I have to be 25 before the transaction occurs...!" you explain and he nods looking over you.

"I can't believe your here, that's kinda crazy! Why have you never come to a race before?" Logan asks kindly and you look down sadly.

"Bad memories for mum, wasn't allowed to go to one until I was 18 but by the time I was I was in university studying" you answer and they all nod, knowing how hard it must have been on your mum.

"What did you study?" Charles asks as his head pops up from hanging into the window on the other side.

"Engineering, your routes will always find a way back!" you grin.

"Oooo that reminds me!" you start to say as you open the passenger side door, it flicking up into the air as you pull the seat forward to get the bags out the back. They were neatly wrapped gift bags in the specific McLaren shade with little white bows.

"One for you!" you smile handing Lando the first bag.

"And one for you!" you grin handing another bag to Oscar!

"I erm need to get back to the garage I have so many questions for the engineers and the mechanics and I don't want to take up more of their time! So ..." you nod towards Carlos who was currently having a feel around in the car.

"Ah yes, I am very sorry!" he smiles getting out. You smile and lock the car before running back off towards the paddock entrance.

"She is nothing like I expected her to be when we first saw her!" Max smiles, liking your vibes.

"I don't like her!" Oscar declares and everyone's head snaps towards him.

"What do you mean you don't like her, she literally WHAT?" Lando almost laughs, looking at his friend and teammate.

"She's too nice... and like ickily perfect" Oscar frowns watching as she bumps into someone just inside the gates of the paddock apologizing profusely.

"Ickily perfect? Is ickily even a word?" Logan asks with a frown.

"No, but that is the only way i can describe it... there's something off!" Oscar declares.

"Mate come on, she gave us gifts and she let everyone look at her cool car ... just because you had one bad celebrity experience here doesn't mean they are all like that!" Lando sighs, before nodding for them all to leave and get to where they need to be in the garage.

"Guys I'm back!" you smile and all the mechanics and engineers look happy to see you.

"Here's my gift to the team!" you say starting to pull out all the baked goods you'd made for them earlier in the day. Brownies, cake ... you name it and it was there.

"Oh thanks Y/N!" one of them says jogging over, he takes a brownie and seconds later groans at the incredible taste that he's being welcomed with.

"So can i ask you a few questions about the suspension of the car?" you ask and he looks shocked for a second before nodding and wiping his mouth clean.

You chat with him for what seemed like ages, talking about the car and the improvements made since the last race and gradually more engineers had started to join in the conversation.

There was a group of people around you as you observed the car, close but not too close that you or McLaren would be fined, just observing the raw mechanics and engineering that went behind it. You pointed out certain things and sometimes it was just observation rather than questions.

"See!" Lando smirks towards Oscar after having watched you talk to the team for a few minutes.

"Okay so she's smart too and is actually interested in the cars ... but that doesn't change my opinion!" Oscar whispers to Lando. He was watching you animatedly talk to the engineers about the car, questioning where they felt the car was at this weekend.

“Dude … come on! What is it about her you don’t like? She’s basically our boss …” Lando explains before turning left and seeing the sweet treats you’d brought in.

“Look she even brought treats … that she baked these herself and wrote a little note for the team with a smiley face and heart … how … can you NOT like her” Lando cries a little too loudly making your head whip round.

You hadn’t heard what he said but he seemed a little distressed.

“Lando, are you okay?” You ask walking over to the duo making Oscar sigh.

“Y-yeah im fine sorry i didn’t mean to yell” he says sheepishly.

“It’s pretty loud in here anyway. I’m not surprised your having to raise your voice!” You laugh, raising your own a little as the sound of drilling and engines occur.

The weekend went by, and Lando stuck around. He was so polite and really kind. A little flirty but you didn’t mind because he was very respectful.

Oscar on the other hand you couldn’t read. He seemed to have this axe against you. This general dislike that you didn’t know where it had come from.

So you devised a plan, to pull him to one side. You stayed put in his drivers room waiting for him to come back from the race. He’d come P4 and Lando had a podium do it was a special weekend for McLaren.

“What are you doing in MY room!” His voice startles you from looking at your phone.

“Please don’t leave before I can talk!” You ask and he looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads.

“This is my room, your the one that needs to leave! I’m not going anywhere!” He cries with his hands up.

“Good, because I’m not leaving till you tell me why you hate me so much!” You ask and there’s an awkward silence of you both just staring at each other. You wait sitting politely on the small sofa.

“Argh I - I don’t … hate you” he sighs and you now look at him like he’s grown two heads.

“Oh come on! It’s so obvious!” You exclaim standing up.

“I don’t I just … don’t like when social media influencers come to the race” he sighs and you laugh out loud at the thought you’d been considered a social media influencer.

In some respect you were. You had a large platform and brands would take advantage of that. But it was purely your last name and legacy that got you that platform.

“I don’t know what your experience is like with celebrity’s who come here … but I’m not like them. Whoever has … swayed your opinion on well my kind of people” you mutter the last bit.

“Look I’m sorry for being so blunt and stand offish with you at the start. I didn’t mean too. Truce?” He offers and you mock a thoughtful look on your face before a grin comes onto your face that has him blushing.

“Truce Piastri! Now will you try a cookie for the love of god!” You grin showing him the plate you’d made just for him as he hasn’t eaten any of yours yet!

Taglist:

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[teddynottss]

Hi can you please do one where him and Yn are arguing so she walks off and sits on another man's lap in spite and he gets so mad he fucks her hard and face fucks her?He also makes sure to praise and degraded her and tells her he loves her afterwards.

• - YOU WOULDNT HAVE BOUNCED ON HIS COCK LIKE THIS - •

PAIRING(S): theodore nott x fem reader

WARNING(S): smut, swearing, dirty talk, praising

SUMMARY: its a request

A/N: sorry this is rushed bc i have school, i might rewrite it again later, school is done in a few weeks so I’ll probably write more freely then.

——————————————————

You and your boyfriend theo tried your best to attend every slytherin party there is, and this one was no different. You got to the party and met up with some of your friends.

After a while, you went to check up on your boyfriend only to find him and blaise standing on the kitchen counter, drinking and dancing. They were clearly drunk as hell and when you tried to call theo a few times to help him get down, he wasn’t answering you.

Mattheo then noticed you struggling and therefore called theo, “theo, look your girl is tryna talk to you.” Theo then looks down at you “get down here are you crazy, you look so stupid standing up there” you chuckled. Theo however, didn’t find that very funny and got mad at you “fuck off you bitch”.

A loud gasp left mattheo’s mouth as blaise spoke “hey man thats not cool” to which theo just scoffed. Without saying a word, you stormed off angrily to find your friends again when you found them sat with a group of guys. “you okay y/n?” daphne asked.

you nodded your head and then felt someone grab your arm. “hey beautiful” cedric diggory, sat down next to pansy spoke. you could feel theo’s eyes on you, perfect timing, payback bitch. “hii” you exclaimed taking his hand and sitting on his lap, slightly straddling it.

theo’s eyes filled with rage and anger, he got down from the table and came your way. he could hear you giggling at diggory’s lame jokes. He approached you, grabbed you by the arm and threw you over his shoulders. He placed his hand on your ass, hiding your skirt from revealing what was under and he left the party house.

“Put me down, now!! Nott i swear to god..” you were now walking on the street, clearly on your way to his dorm. “.. why wont you answer me? so you got mad when i was talking to another guy but you told me to fuck off and called me a bitch?!?”

All this and he doesnt say a word, when you get to his dorm, he lets you down and before you get a chance to speak, he pins you to the wall, kissing you hungrily. He grabs your face deepening the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip in, claiming dominance.

He then worked on removing his pants and when you tried to take your skirt off, he stopped you. “i wanna fuck you with your clothes on” him all stripped and you remaining in your clothes, he led you into the shower and turned the hot water on.

“So you wanna be a slut huh? then act like it” you got on your knees, between him and took his hard length in your hands. You pumped it a few times before you introduced your tongue, licking his tip then taking him in your mouth.

Sucking and licking, you grab onto his thighs, which will probably leave marks later, as the hot water drenches the both of you. He grabs your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail, guiding you. “You fucking slut, immediately ran to another man huh?” you moaned onto him without using any words.

“fuckkk.. you’re going to prove to me that that pretty little mouth of yours doesnt just argue” you try to take more of him which makes you gag hard on his cock, leading to him coming in your mouth without any warning whatsoever. “Good girl, now swallow, principessa” you swallow everything, licking him clean then sticking your tongue out to show him you swallowed.

Then, he carries you up, holding you with one hand, removing your panties with the other. Once he got rid of your lace green panties, he slowly lowered you on his cock. Giving you no time to adjust at all, he begins thrusting in and out of you. “such a fucking whore” he says kissing your neck. He thrusts deeper making you whimper as you throw your head back.

He kisses you, biting your lip making you arch your back. “youre my little slut, my whore, my girl, my principessa, understand?” you nod your head. “words cara mia” “yess” you moan. “good girl, now do you wanna cum?” “yess theo please” “because you said please”.

his thrusts are now deeper and faster, you practically bouncing on him as your eyes roll back then close in pleasure. “you wouldnt have bounced on his cock like this would you” you moan a quick no as the grabs the shower head pointing it at you clit. He begins biting on your neck, abusing the skin. You scream his name as you cum clean on his cock.

“amore mio.. you are so fucking beautiful like this” he says putting you down, yet making sure he supports you so that u dont fall. “I love you so fucking much, no words are enough” “i love you too theo” “and im sorry for what i did earlier i was so drunk and wasted..” he apologized. “its okay as long as you promise to not do it again” “promise, now lets get you all cleaned, maybe we can watch a movie afterwards.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! If you know the reference where the person A says the moon is beautiful without noticing the Person B saying yes beautiful while staring at Person A (//∇//) can I have that with the batboys? I know it’s corny lol thank you!

I hope this was what you envisioned but idk.

‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’ You said.

Jason who’s eyes never left you for a single second, seeing no point in staring at anything else when everything he’s ever wanted was right next to him, smiled at your need to bring attention to the beauty of other things others may walk right past by without a second thought.

‘The moons always has been beautiful, and it will only grow more beautiful as time continues.’ He replied.

You looked over at him, only to see that he was staring at you fondly and with a dopey smile spread across his lips, and immeditly felt very exposed by the way he looked at you as though you had intricately hung the very moon and stars above by hand. It was a look you weren’t use to being on the receiving end of -having only heard of similar looks being talked about in books or seen in movies- but now that you were you were at a loss on what to say or do.

‘You really mean that?’ You asked, finding a loose bit of fabric on your clothing extremely interesting all of a sudden.

‘I’d gladly say it a million times over if it makes it more easily believed.’ Jason said as he moved closer to you until your shoulders were touching, he then gently grabbed your hand away from fiddling the loose bit of fabric of your shirt and intertwined your fingers together, not once had his eyes left your person the entire time.

You smiled at him as you leaned yourself into him, leeching off of his warmth as you tried to go back to looking at the moon, but found it hard once you were made aware of the fact that Jason was staring directly at you as though he found something much more interesting to focus all of his attention on. ‘It’s hard to not believe it when your eyes look at me like that.’ You told him.

Jason tilts his head. ‘Like what sweetheart?’

‘Like I’m special.’ You replied.

Jason then chuckles before kissing the top of your head softly as he then rests his head against the side of yours. ‘I could write an entire essay on how special you are to me and still it wouldn’t be enough, so yeah you are special, more than you could possibly imagine.’

Dick smiled as he propped up his head in his hands as he watched how the moonlight practically illuminated you in your entirety.

It was almost as if a spotlight had shone down on you, making Dick unable to look elsewhere but you and that gorgeous smile that blossomed across your face, not that he needed to be forced to look at you when he could be doing so for the rest of his life if he was allowed that simple luxury.

‘The moon sure is beautiful indeed, can barely take my eyes off them.’ Dick said softly in response.

You then looked over at Dick, only to see him looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter and your face become warm. ‘You can stop looking at me now.’ You tell him.

Dick leaned against the railing with a cheeky smile. ‘Why? I was enjoying the view.’ He replied.

‘Oh so I’m the view now?’ You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

‘You always were the view babe,’ Dick said, ‘a view so beautiful I could barely take my eyes off of and I’m lucky enough to get to see it as often as I do.’ He adds as he pushed himself off the railing and walked towards you and held you by the arms.

‘You’re a sap.’ You laughed, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer.

Dick watched as you laughed and took the time to mentally engrave this moment to his memory, from the way your mouth opened to laugh, to the way your whole face practically light up and the way you stood out amongst the rest of the bright, vibrant lights. ‘Yeah but I’m your sap.’ He retorted as he held you against his chest as you both soaking in the moonlight together, all the while only ever looking at one another.

Tim

Was speechless, the words he had preplanned earlier within the day to say to you had long left him as he could only admire you as you basked in the moonlight and looking ethereal amidst the artificial city lights.

This was a state he often found himself in whenever you were just standing there and it was a little embarrassing for him because it only made him think of how obvious he had been about his feelings this entire time. However he couldn’t exactly blame you for being the epitome of perfection and beauty simply just by existing, Tim didn’t know it could be possible to feel this strongly about someone but here he was, unable to speak his mind in your presence without admiring your every feature as though he was seeing you for the first time again.

You furrowed your brows when you didn’t hear Tim say anything, becoming worried that he might’ve passed out from the lack of sleep he’s had recently and went to look over at him, only to see him looking at you with a wide eyed expression and flushed cheeks.

‘Tim, are you okay?’ You asked, moving towards him.

‘The moon is extremely beautiful tonight yes, even when they are within close proximity.’ Tim blurted out and you stopped when it hit you that he wasn’t talking about the moon, but more so about you and now you were both stood in silence and extremely flustered.

‘That’s, that’s really sweet of you Tim.��� You said, breaking the prolonged silence between the two of you as you felt butterflies within your stomach and a warmth spread throughout your chest.

‘It’s- I was only speaking the truth.’ Tim scratched the back of his head as he looked away from you for a split second before looking back at you, gauging your reaction as a positive one and took the chance to shuffle closer to you.

Tim had been in dangerous situations before but being this close to you, sharing a heartfelt moment between the two of you was enough to have him unable to think properly, his emotions were running rampant within him as his heart was unable to remain at a steady and consistent pace the more he was near you to the point he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of it.

‘Well I appreciate you being truthful,’ you tell him, flashing him a smile that almost ended him with how sweet, kind and loving it was, ‘it’s one of the many things I like about you Tim.’ You add as you then rested your head on his shoulder as poor Tim could only stand there stiff as a bored, but that didn’t matter as a smile grew across his lips and rested his head atop of yours, not wanting to say anything else incase it ruined the perfect mood.

[monkeyseemonkeyship]

Touch Starved

Pairing: Noa x Mae

Rating: PG13

Warnings: None

A/N: First chapter of a series of 3 or 4 one shots I have planned. They take place after an alternative ending to the movie, in which Noa and Mae decide to travel together back to the human base in an attempt to foster human/ape relations. There's really no plot, just a few scenes of some intimate moments. I hope you enjoy!

Smoke from their campfire curled into the air, joining the hoard of clouds that kept the stars from view. It had been a while since Noa and Mae had been allowed the luxury of a fire. A few days prior they had encountered a fractured remnant of Proximus’ clan. For four nights they had remained in darkness, taking shifts so one could rest while the other kept watch. There had been a few close calls, but by some miracle the pair had escaped the gang. After so many tense hours and sleepless nights, the campfire was a welcomed reward.

The warmth of the flames was calming, the silence comfortable. Mae and Noa had grown used to one another’s companionship. There was still trepidation due to their recent past, an unsteadiness about their relationship. But trust was beginning to form again, fueled by their agreement to try and foster human and ape relations. They had a long journey ahead, and Mae wasn’t sure it would even bear fruit. After all, humans were weary of apes, to put it mildly. Many even flat out hated them. But still, something in her had to try.

As the evening wore on, the fire began to dim. Mae was growing tired, but before she would rest, she needed to try and fix her hair. The once neat braid has become knotted from days of neglect. She had hoped keeping it in a plait  would help lessen the mess, but her efforts had been in vain. She removed the tie and began to unwork the strands, but found she was met with tangle after tangle. From the corner of her eye, she could see Noa watching her, and his gaze only made her more flustered.  

Eventually the semblance of a braid turned into a rat’s nest, and Mae couldn’t stand it any longer. She reached down into her boot, retrieving a knife, and brought it up to the matted knot. She only got a few strands in, before his voice stopped her.

“What are you doing?”

Noa’s voice was confused, maybe even a little concerned. Mae lowered the knife, the few severed hairs falling to the ground. “I can’t untangle it.” She spoke as if it was an obvious solution, and in some ways it was. Long hair was a nuisance at best in this world, and a danger at worst. An enemy could easily grab her braid, and she would be finished. In truth she had thought about cutting it for a while, but had been unable to go through with it. Her mother had worn her hair long, and doing the same reminded Mae of her.

“Let me…try.”

The offer took Mae by surprise, and to be honest, Noa was surprised by his own words. But the thought of the woman cutting her hair saddened him. When she chose to wear it down, he enjoyed the way it danced in the wind. When they had the luxury of rest, he enjoyed watching her run her fingers through the strands before deftly braiding them back. Something about it was beautiful to him.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and Noa worried he had crossed a boundary. After all, the act of grooming was intimate for both human and ape alike. So he was relieved when Mae finally nodded her head, sheathing her knife as he made his way over to her. The ape positioned himself behind the human, gently moving the braid off of her shoulder. He let the knotted mess slide over his palm, surprised by the softness despite the matt.

Standing so close, Noa was keenly aware of his mass compared to Mae. He was so much stronger than her, than all of her kind. One wrong move and he could seriously injure her. Even though he was only touching her hair, the thought made him nervous. With a new resolve he began, his large fingers easily managing the delicacy required for such a task. He was mindful of Mae’s breaths, how they seemed to quicken as he worked. Was she scared? Was he hurting her? He attempted to be even softer, his fingers working on small sections at a time, making sure not to tug or pull at her hair. He tried to ignore her small movements, how delicate the curve of her neck was, how he could hear and almost feel every breath. He told himself just to focus on the task at hand, but still, every small thing distracted him.  

Mae felt warm, her skin flushed. She told herself it was embarrassment about being unable to handle such a simple task on her own. But there was something more to it than that, thoughts she dare not explore. Not yet.

 She was amazed by how soft his touch was, how he barely tugged at the tangled strands. The feeling would have been calming, had she not been so tense. As he made his way from the tips towards the roots, his fingers began to occasionally graze against the skin of her neck. She could feel the callouses, the strength of the digits. The first time it happened she shivered, and Noa paused for a moment, making sure she was okay before he continued. The second time she nearly did the same, but forced herself to remain still. The added tension only caused her heart to quicken. Why was she reacting so strongly? She was no longer scared of Noa, he had proven time and time again that he would not hurt her. No, the feelings were pleasant, enjoyable. Which was terrifying. The only explanation for her reaction consisted of two words: touch starved.

Mae couldn’t remember if she had read about it in a book, or if she had heard the phrase from a fellow human. It didn’t matter. Those two words had to be the reason for her strong reaction. She had been without contact for so long that her body was craving it. This was just a physical response to loneliness. It meant nothing.

That didn’t feel entirely honest, but Mae refused to think of any other explanation.  

All too soon Noa had come to the end of the knot, freeing the last few hairs. He had completed his task, but still he kept going, unwilling to admit he was enjoying the task of grooming her. He told himself he was being kind by continuing on. He would braid her hair as well, but not because he enjoyed the softness of it. Or the way the brown color seemed to warm in the firelight. He would do this as a way to help a tired friend care for herself. Just like he would help groom any close friend. He ran his fingers through the base of her hair, ghosting along her skull, trying to ignore the way the woman shivered again. He wondered if she was somehow cold? No, Mae’s ears were slightly pink, and her skin was warm beneath his hands. She felt hot, yet still she trembled.

Gingerly, Noa worked his fingers from root to tip, turning his thoughts to how similar yet different it was tending to hair rather than fur. The technique was almost the same, but the length of hair was almost overwhelming. When he was satisfied her hair was tangle free, he separated it into three even sections, beginning a new braid. At first he felt clumsy, he was used to braiding vines for rope, not silky thin strands. But soon enough he was able to adjust. As he worked he could almost feel Mae wanting to speak, her body practically vibrating beneath him. Yet she remained silent, as she often did when unsure of the perfect words.

Once he reached the end of the braid, he moved to hold it together with one hand. With his free hand, he reached over her shoulder, palm up, silently asking for the tie. Mae startled slightly from the movement, and he gestured to the string in her hand as an explanation. She understood, placing it in the palm of his hand, her fingers lightly grazing his skin. It took Noa a little time, but after a few attempts, he had tied a secure but simple knot. One he was sure the human could easily undo on her own. He let the fresh braid slip from his hand, watching as it fell back onto her neck.

After he finished his task Noa gave Mae her space, though his eyes lingered on her form. He watched as she moved the braid over her shoulder, fingers running along its length. She was surprised by the smoothness of it, by how tightly woven he had made it. “Thank you.” She offered, and Noa grunted in response.

They did not speak the rest of the night.

[paperbackribs]

tags: steddie, nsfw, the homoeroticism of knowing you could treat them better

🥵🍆💦

"Okay," Robin smirks at Eddie as she pops the open button on the microwave in Steve’s kitchen, "But you understand how pathetically gay you sound right now, yes?" She pulls out a fragrant paper bag of popcorn; she says that she likes to have an extra bag before retiring after one of their movie nights.

Eddie scowls, forgetting that Steve's in the next room as he becomes revved up over a pet peeve that is less pet and more a wild animal, "It's not gay to appreciate a work of art." He gestures wildly, the lights above catch on his heavy silver rings, "It's not gay to understand that a sweet, beautiful boy is tragically unloved."

Robin snorts, pulling open the edges of the paper bag, releasing a plume of buttery steam, "No, pretty sure that's pretty gay. Next thing I know you'll declare 'no homo' while sucking his dick."

"I'd suck his dick better than Brittany or Betta or Betsy or whatever her name was," Eddie declares, sore at the memory of Steve's broken brow as he'd explained that his latest date had ridden his face and then gave him a pat on his shoulder, explaining that it was a nice time but not to expect a callback.

What an idiot, Eddie fumes to himself, neglecting to notice the shifting shadows in the hallway behind him; who doesn't enjoy a man who vehemently and vocally declares his love for going down on his partners? Eddie would kill for a partner willing to suck him dry.

Eddie may have blamed the deficiency on the female of the species, but Steve had allowed Eddie in the inner sanctum a few months ago: letting him know that it wasn’t only Robin and Eddie who were vehement friends of Dorothy, even if it was only Steve who enjoyed the full spectrum of the rainbow. And while B-whatever-her-name-was may be the source of Eddie’s ire right now, he knows that Steve has had likewise lousy luck with men whenever they’d ventured for their weekend nights out to Indy.

Each and every time Eddie had to endure Steve’s sad face a week or two later as he’d admitted that he thought his night’s partner may be up for more than just a brief bit of fun. And each and every time he’s been left dumbfounded because—

Eddie pulls at his hair, trying to work it out because—

Well. He can only imagine that every single person that’s walked away from Steve’s beautiful lips couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a fucking canon with the intelligence left over in their little pea brains. Because Steve Harrington is a goddamn catch and every one of them has let him escape their grasp.

Eddie’s too busy scowling down at his Reeboks to see Robin look over his shoulder and softly laugh. She scoops a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she swiftly leaves the kitchen, calling out, “I’m claiming the spare bedroom tonight—the one at the far end—see ya.”

Eddie looks up at the last minute, wondering at her sudden exit.

The air shifts again but Eddie doesn’t realise it until Steve’s right behind him. "Her name was Bella," Seve says in a low caress, close enough that his warm breath rustles Eddie's loose curls.

He stops, frozen, the touch of Steve's words making Eddie ache for something that he's wanted for such a very long time even as he’s unwilling to allow himself to think that Steve could mean anything by leaning in so close. But he can’t help but shiver, a tiny movement that brings his lips against Steve's sharp jaw, nearly stuttering, "Who?"

Strong arms wrap around him, bringing the broad planes of Steve’s chest against Eddie’s back, blunt fingers coming up to grip his jaw, directing Eddie’s lips to just under Steve’s.

Eddie freezes again in desperation, every single fantasy converging at once to break his brain and body while he tries to understand that the arms, hands and fingers wrapped around him are not an invention of a daydream.

"I’m saying,” Steve says patiently, eyeing Eddie with a dark gaze over his firm grip, "That I want you. Not Brittany or Betta or Betsy."

Eddie swallows around the knot in his throat.

"Just you," Steve repeats, a steady weight holding down his words that has Eddie’s gaze flying up to meet the hard pressure of hazel eyes bearing down on him. A force that has Eddie’s heart knocking heavily against his ribs, his breath shuddering against his frame, pressing taut and bullying against the thin of Eddie’s skin as he meets Steve’s expectant gaze.

And suddenly Eddie is angry.

Furious.

He’s had to endure weeks and months of listening to Steve be sad. Listening to Steve tell of glum exploits where women and men haven’t appreciated his freely-given love. Where it hadn’t mattered how quickly and devotedly Steve would put himself forward, that his partner would pat him on the back and distance him or herself after.

Eddie is furious and he glares at Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes, so close to his own and suddenly wide at the clear fury in Eddie’s eyes. Steve stumbles back, “What…” But Eddie lowers himself decisively, knees falling to the ground with a clear thump and thighs spreading as he knows with a deep conviction that he’s finally interpreting Steve’s actions correctly.

He looks up with dark eyes and presses into the tentative hand that falls against Eddie’s nape; Steve’s brows pull together, doubt drawing at them, “Eddie…”

Eddie glares up at Steve with all the strength of emotion running through him like the swift currents of a river. “No Steve, that’s it. That’s fucking it.”

He determinedly wraps his fingers around the zipper of Steve’s Levi’s and, as Steve chokes out his name again, Eddie glares up at him, daring Steve to take his prize away. “No, I’m done. You’ve given me permission now. You’ve given me a sliver of hope, and you’re not fucking taking it away.”

Eddie swiftly draws down the zipper, pulling down denim and soft cotton until Steve’s already hard cock bobs in front of him and he reaches forward quickly, hand already at its base and mouth open as he’s about to swallow him down but Steve’s hand buries itself in Eddie’s curls, gripping him tight.

“Do you want me?” Steve breathes and Eddie somehow finds it in himself to glower deeper, scowling up at Steve while refusing to speak. Inching forward until the tip of Steve’s cock hovers over Eddie’s open mouth. Steve curses and a heavy pearl of fluid drops from the tip to Eddie’s outstretched tongue. Eyes closing in contentment, he hears Steve choke as Eddie almost hums around the welcome flavour.

“Right,” Steve rasps roughly before pushing forward to rest against Eddie’s lips, he traces the heavy beads from his weeping slit against the petals of his mouth, breath running ragged before pressing further.

Eddie gasps, stretching his lips wide and pushing in and forward to embrace the cock intruding his mouth. His lashes flutter as he finally has the heavy weight of Steve’s cock resting on his tongue, stretching his mouth obscenely open before peering up to check where Steve’s at.

He needn’t have worried because Steve’s own mouth is hanging open with eyes darkly trained on Eddie. “So fucking pretty,” Steve gasps, gripping Eddie’s head to pull him closer. Choking Eddie as he moans, “Yes, fucking, yes, baby. Take it.” And Eddie does. Gratefully. Happily. Fucking swallows and devours and pistons back and forward until the bitter musk dripping from Steve’s dick is greedily consumed, taken within.

Steve cries out, throbbing powerfully and pouring into Eddie. Spilling and overflowing, fucking against his face until beads flood and stream out of his mouth. Eddie lets out a long, guttural and broken sound, grateful for the blessing that Steve fills him with.

He’s so consumed with the feel of Steve in him, surrounding him, that he barely registers the hardness in his own black denim until Steve drops to his knees too, meeting Eddie face to face before falling forward, fingers working his zipper open and mouth swallowing him whole.

Eddie gasps at the sudden sensation of the hot welcoming cavern of Steve’s mouth. He bucks, lightning shooting up his spine and overwhelmed at the attention as he thrusts once, twice and another before shuddering as he releases into Steve’s warm embrace.

Gasping, Eddie’s head falls forward to stare down at Steve in wonderment. In clear awe as he stares down at the beautiful boy in his lap. Mind blissed but still a niggle worries at the back of his mind, enough to have his hand reaching forward to Steve’s face, cupping his cheek and bringing him up to meet Eddie.

“Sweetheart,” the endearment drops from Eddie’s mouth without his permission.

Steve’s lips tug up, spreading in a grin and widening his eyes, “You want me, don’t you?” He asks, almost breathless.

“Yes. Fucking yes.” Eddie has nothing but honesty to his name at this point.

Steve smiles. Smug and fucking so proud of himself. He leans forward, “Then take me,” he whispers.

And Eddie does.

❤️ More steddie here

[anantaru]

WORKING OVERTIME — WRIOTHESLEY

synopsis. fucking your boss is not to be taken serious, correct?

cw. boss! wriothesley x employee! reader, slight mention of power imbalance, office sex, fem! reader

this is no serious matter. snap out of it.

this is sex, nothing more and nothing less. you can view it as releasing stored steam with your, well, boss.

wriothesley wasn't always the kindest boss to you, for whatever reason you might add. he could be severely strict and serious and couldn't stop pointing out mistakes, especially yours.

come a little closer now because there's a rumor going around— but some believe he does it on purpose to you, only when it's you and it doesn't matter how good you finish your tasks, he's very much aware of the fact that it gets you going.

it riles you up and makes you wet whenever he's rough with you.

alas, no matter his searing kisses that brand into your skin and practically scream you're mine, the candid words of endearment that drop from his lips like sticky honey on ones hands, the heavy look in his eyes whenever he exhales from his mouth upon pushing inside, admiring your face and calling you beautiful in his mind, this moment means nothing at all.

it's not real. it cannot happen.

it's sex, that's what it was, good fucking sex.

once, twice, thrice, endless— each thrust hits your nerves and spill everywhere, your bare breasts long since shown to him as his balls repeatedly smack against your ass. he's vicious— a duke in charge of everything and he breathes so heavenly when you squeeze around his shaft and let him feel for a moment, let him forget his duties just for once.

one warm palm twists around your breast and tugs on your nipple hard— call it a silent reminder, an aggressive prompting of why the duke was your boss and that you're under him.

in every way imaginable.

another reason as to why he didn't find it necessary to discard of his clothes other than hastily tugging his pants down to his knees, fully dressed while you're all naked for him to indulge in.

this is why he's in control and you aren't. remember your place.

a delicious roll of hips bounces your breasts up and down as your legs tighten around his waist, his leaky tip nudging deep against your sweetest spot with sweat making itself visible at his chiseled chest as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts until you cry out in heavenly screams, pathetic cries and fuck, how good it felt to be practically tossed back and forth against a desk, impaled by a thick cock like his.

no matter which words you'd attempt to use to describe your filthy sounds, be it wailing or screaming and even whining out his name, wriothesley makes it sure to add a hidden promise between every single thrust that he'll make you cum even better than last time, and he's allowed to cum inside, correct?

hey, but again, this is nothing. nothing at all.

a galvanizing memory, call it a photograph or a printed picture prettily put in a golden frame, a delicious scene that the duke will take and put inside the most important parts in his brain, so he'll never forget and can always use such memories to make himself feel good whenever you aren't there.

until he never searches for those fantasies again, until he's fucked you out of his system and the creaks of the wooden desk screeching against the cold floor would cease to exist.

wriothesley leans against your body shaking on top of the cold desk, a distant roughness towering on top of his voice as you cry out one more wail of his name, the sticky feeling of his chest pressing against you being the least of your worries as he attempts to kiss you when you messily lick across his jaw instead, bypassing the kiss wriothesley wanted, no, needed to give you.

no kisses allowed, that was the deal, right? yet he still tries it. every damn time.

this is nothing. it's a helping hand for when either of you was too frustrated to concentrate on work, a willing hand and a willing cock, a hidden favour from employer to employee.

it's nothing with an explanation required, nothing that needs a specific name nor was it important enough to be called anything at all, because while you sure knew what it was, he knows what it's not.

you see, wriothesley wants more, he wants this. he wants you.

not only your addicting cunt sucking him in but he wants you to kiss him just kiss me already damn just do it please.

just once.

he drags his teeth against his bottom lip in agony and jerks his hips further into your squishy cunt, grunting at the throbs and shocks of arousal tensing from your walls and branding into his aching shaft.

but don't forget wriothesley was in control.

wait, was he? he won't risk it. he knows he can't. you're his employee.

because he knows it's not serious. he knows he's not that weak to fall for someone.

he cannot start having a crush on you, in fact, it was only possible to start from the beginning and not when you're already heads over heels for somebody— at last, breaching the line of a healthy work relationship between boss and employee.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[cupid-styles]

Omfg I love when Harry leaves bite marks and stuff on any y/n. Could you write something like that? It’s just fun when they wake up in the morning and just stare at them and then Harry catches them staring at them in the mirror and is like I can leave some more and then they do it again in front of the mirror. It’s fine if you can’t ♥️

:))) love this! went with grumpy h for this one

requests are currently open !

grumpy h masterlist | main masterlist

. . .

In the soft glow of the morning light, Y/N's tired, bleary eyes glide over deep splotches in hues of red and purple. The colors are angry, but the man behind them was anything but — her cheeks flush as she thinks back to the previous night.

They'd gone to a bar with his friends, just for two or three hours, but a few shots of tequila was always sure to make Harry more handsy than usual. By the time they'd made it back to Y/N's apartment, the mottled, liquor-fueled roses on his cheeks and neck had faded away, instead being replaced with darkened eyes and spit-swollen lips. They were barely through the front entryway before they were yanking off each other's clothes, creating a breadcrumb trail of garments — Harry's trousers and socks, Y/N's bralette and blouse.

They fucked until their limbs resembled jelly and their oversensitive muscles shook from orgasms. She doesn't remember much about Harry leaving trails of bite marks and hickies down the column of her throat and over the peaks of her chest, but it was apparent he'd taken his time nipping over her skin. She bites her lip as her fingers run over the well-loved areas, blinking when Harry comes up from behind her. In the bathroom mirror, he hums, his eyes still puffy with sleep. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her back against his chest, his large palm pushing up the oversized sleep shirt she wore.

"Left some here, too," he says in a tired, groveled voice. He gently pulls at the inside of her left thigh and a soft gasp departs her lips. Chuckling, he softly presses his fingertips into the bruise. "'s okay, yeah? I'll help you cover them up."

"It's okay," she breathes, eyelashes flittering. "I like them. Know you do too."

He nods, dipping his face into the crook of her neck, "I love them. Love leaving them, love seeing them the next morning."

"Leave another," she encourages breezily, tilting her head to the side. "You missed a spot, anyway."

Harry smirks. She watches as his plush lips latch onto the patch of skin, whimpering softly as he sucks. It's gentler than last night, but she can still feel his length thickening up against her ass, tenting the material of the boxers he wears. When he finally departs, his eyes slide over his newest work, humming in content.

"Always so beautiful for me," he murmurs lowly. Her core pulsates and she allows him to spin her in his arms, turning to see his pretty, sleepy face.

They both know where they're heading next, and neither one of them could care less.

[changisworld]

thoughts on coparenting with bangchan? But in the end they get together again and YKYYK🤭🤭

main masterlist here

Ohmygodnfbddnsn

Definitely still sooooo respectful to you even though you’re both separated now, both of you staying as ‘friends’ as such & you still allow him into the home he used to share with you in order to see your kid & HE IS JUST THE BEST DAD EVER LIKE CMON WOULD HE EVER BE ANYTHING LESS?!?

puts in 100% effort every single time he is visiting so you can relax a bit more, just taking the strain off you completely which can’t not make your heart spin just a little bit.

Definitely still likes to tease you though(thank god for your baby not knowing words yet lol) & says things like:

“aren’t you just bored with one kid? we can always have another, make the numbers even”

“we could still get a lot more use out of the crib & toys, maybe it’s a sign” he chuckles as he looks at you, not actually joking

He still knows exactly what to do to make your heart flutter & best believe he does just that, calling you “mommy” while talking to the baby, feeling your stomach despite not having a bun in the oven anymore & even giving you forehead kisses before saying he is so happy that you’re who he shares a baby with.

Always insists on sitting behind you & letting you sit in between his legs as you feed the baby, Chan caressing your opposite tit in the meantime as he rests his chin on your shoulder, afraid to blink incase he misses anything as he pinched your opposite nipple, watching as the milky white liquid coats & runs past his fingertips, making him hum. (channie + lactation kink is 100% real)

Whenever you both hook up (pretty much every time the baby is sleeping) HE IS SO GENTLE TOWARDS YOU because he likes to think you’re fragile, even more so after pregnancy.

“So beautiful f’me y/n, so perfect”

“Look at you creaming my dick baby, you miss it that much?”

“Gripping me so tight, glad to k-know nobody else is fucking you the way i can” he smirks to you as he leans down to kiss you, cock not faltering it’s pace.

“tits are so f’ll y/nnie, don’t you wanna keep them that way? have me fuck yet another baby into you?”

“You can have it any time you want again, just gotta say the words.” he groans to you as he has your legs on his shoulders as he pounds into your puffy cunt & you do say the words & that obviously makes him cum no more than five seconds later with a loud, drawn out whine.

A/N; i’m not sure if this is what you fully wanted but i couldn’t wait any longer to write it despite being at work rn i got too excited hehehe

[rilirios]

➢ love me or love me not?

—✦ pairings. various!characters x gn!reader —✦ summary. love, it can be the most beautiful thing, or an absolute disaster. for you, it was a trainwreck. —✦ cw. angst, unrequited love —✦ w.c. 300+ all together —✦notes. hot freaks ib fic!! another repost from my old blog. im probably gonna repost one more then write something new or go back on break c:

i. heartache

you knew what you were getting into. falling in love with a person who was already in love. you saw the admiration in their eyes when they looked at their beloved. you saw the smitten look on their face. 

but you were in love, utterly infatuated. it was sickening. and you knew you had two choices: either move on from this little crush or enjoy your feelings while it lasts. thus, you chose the latter. you didn’t want to think about the possible results of your love, of the rejection you’d face. 

so you simply decided to roll with it. pretend that they didn’t love anyone, and enjoy the small moments the two of you had. giggling at words they told you, staying up late just to talk with them. 

however the thought that you wouldn’t be the one for them still remained at the back of your mind. 

— jing yuan, blade, dan heng, diluc, alhaitham, wriothesley, your favorites

ii. write me letters

a hallway crush is what you'd describe it as. but what is a hallway crush? someone you see in the hallway and ogle at for a couple of minutes before moving on with life? you don't even know if they fit the criteria of a hallway crush. sure, you've talked to them for a little while, but it wasn't enough for the two of you to become actual friends.

so then what are you guys? of course, you don't want to end up as just a classmate. and you don't want to just think of them as a simple hallway crush. you want to be more to them. a friend or something more. you wanted to at least exist to them, for them to know you're there.

no longer did you want to just gaze at them through the swarms of people in the hallway.

— kafka, fu xuan, jean, dan heng, neuvilette, your favorites

iii. outset island

looking through a box you found in your garage, you see multiple polaroid photos of your childhood. a certain kid popping up next to you in several of those photos. you don't remember them clearly, but you recall the memories you've had and the little habits they did.

like that one time the two of you hid under a truck to peacefully eat the pastries you weren't allowed to have (the both of you got caught but at least you had fun with it).

and of course, every friendship has to come to an end, and you had a fallout. you don't remember what it was, but you think it was related to you moving away since you both promised to stay with each other forever, despite how childish the promise might've been. you don't recall the words you said, only the tears on your old friends face and a feeling of guilt in your chest.

— lance, rei, jingliu, dan heng, blade, jing yuan, amber, pidge, neuvillette, furina

© rilirios 2024. if you steal my works i will cry

(my friend helped me with this so kudos to them c:)

[icedbeverageenjoyer]

🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺

🖤📺Mr. Puzzles' Fluff Alphabet!! 📺🖤

Hey guys!!! The moment I saw snakes-writing-corner's fluff alphabet I couldn't focus on any of my other stuff until I've made one on my own! It's surprisingly easier than the oneshots I'm used to-- but on with the fluff!!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is incredibly affectionate and always wants to pamper you with kisses and compliments! Though he only shows it when the cameras stop rolling and he's sure you two are alone.

His love language is words of affirmation, since there is no better way to express his love than saying it directly! You would think he'd eventually run out of things to compliment, but his vocabulary is vast and colourful, making you blush every time. He is also multilingual, so sometimes he'll sweettalk you in a different language only to fluster you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?) 

Since you are his partner (and thus, his only friend), you're already his best friend! But if you weren't dating he'd probably be just as chaotic. He will call you in the middle of the night and ask you for input on his scripts, oftentimes his voice doesn't get picked up clearly and you just hear garbled static with the occasional manic laughter.

Sometimes he'll just skip the phone entirely, break into your house, and put on a movie so you two could watch. If the sound of a door being kicked to the ground or the smell of perfectly cooked popcorn doesn't wake you up, him manhandling you and throwing you at the couch (not on, at) is sure to do the trick!

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He is not used to people touching him or vice versa. The only times in the puzzlevision arc where he touched someone were when he was threatening Mario or fighting the crew, so he only makes physical contact when nessesary.

The closest thing to cuddling he would do is sit next to you and press his screen against your temple. It's not exactly a kiss, but more like him resting his head on you after a long day.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?) 

If you were to live in his studio together he would give you your own room and personalize it to your needs! He doesn't need to clean much since he almost never leaves his office unless it is to either pester the Smg4 crew or hang out with you.

If you two live at your place he'd be a little bit more organized and take on all the cooking. He has been the host for a few MasterChef-like shows, so he knows how to make a nice three course meal when you both eventually get tired of takeout. His specialty is breakfast, mainly pancakes, and he takes great pride in it!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 

He would never allow himself to break up with you, and if you were to break up with him, he simply won't let you. Every time you'd try to explain that you're leaving him he'd either talk over you or just cover his antenna and pretend he's not listening, all the while still doing romantic gestures for you as if nothing happened. He is naturally stubborn and refuses to take any form of rejection.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) 

Almost immediately. He would throw a big, sappy wedding and show up in either the cleanest, most stylish sleek suit on the market or the biggest, most beautiful poofy dress ever made.

He'd record the whole thing in five different angles to get every detail on film, but he won't release it to the public. This special day will be for his eyes only.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Incredibly gentle! He doesn't touch you often, but when he does, his fingers are featherlight, and the cozy warmth of his old screen pressed against your face is always comforting.

He could get a little harsh sometimes and say things he really wasn't supposed to, but he always comes back and apologizes when things go too far.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

He is not used to them at all. Usually if anyone else were to hug him he'd kick them off immediately, but he's more patient when it comes to you.

He feels safe enough around you to let you get closer, but he'll be frozen stiff the entire time, not entirely comfortable with the pressure on his skin just yet. Still, every time you back away he'd insist he doesn't mind, and he means it, he appreciates every form your love comes in. And if you're ever upset, he'll wrap his lanky arms around you and just keep them there until you're feeling better.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) 

In the early stages of your relationship he wouldn't actually see you as a love interest, but pretend to be interested so you'll fall for him and be there in case you were ever useful.

Soon, however, he found himself actually catching feeling for you. And after some inner turmoil, he finally confesses for real! After that, he would say 'i love you' in almost every conversation. At first he copied what he saw on television, he'd recreate every dramatic gesture and cheezy date, but it would always leave him frustrated for whatever reason.

It wasn't until you pointed out that he was acting instead of actually having fun that he started to slip out of his show host persona. Now his use of 'I love you' is much more sparse, but every time he says it, you know he means it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) 

Extremely. He is agressively passive-aggressive and if he sees anyone even looking at you in a way he doesn't like he'd immediately be onto them. He'd start off polite at first, basically telling them 'get out or I will throw you out' without saying it, but if they still don't get the hint he will grab them by the scruff of the neck and drag them out.

He would come back to you with a muffin from the snack cart and lead you away to show you his progress on filming the upcoming movie. You're not listening though, neither are you eating, the faint smell of gunpowder coming off of him immediately stumping your appetite.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are him pressing his screen against your face. He doesn't have lips, but his gentle electronic warmth is enough to linger on your skin. He loves kissing your face and hands, having them securely in his hold as he peppers you with kisses. He also likes it when you kiss back, especially around the wires on his wrists and neck, as it is one of the few places where he can still feel touch.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) 

He's not really a kids guy. On one hand most of his shows are aimed towoards a younger audience, and he wants to introduce kiddos to the wonders of TV! On the other...he can't handle the loud crying and sticky fingers.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

At the morning you will wake up to the smell of freshly made breakfast before you feel him pulling the covers off of you and dragging you to the kitchen. He'd talk about his plans for the day while you're still waking up and grazing on your toast. 

He would then head to the studio, but not before kissing you and saying goodbye like a working husband going out for a long day at work.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) 

Due to his upgrades and mostly electronic nature he doesn't need to sleep. Usually when you go to bed he stays up in his office, pouring his heart out on a script he'd likely end up tossing. Sometimes when he's lonely he'd quietly sneak in your room and lay down next to you, his screen facing you on a blank, staticy channel.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) 

He doesn't mind sharing his 'tragic backstory' with others, seeing it as just another selling point of his persona, but you seem to be the only one to take it seriously. The irreversible effects of long-term isolation had warped him into a charecature of what he loved most.

You try to make him see just how horrible his situation is so he can start to heal and develop real personality, but it seams near impossible to get through to him. You can't fix something that dead and gone.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

Patience is not a virtue Puzzles acknowledges. The second something goes off scrip he will freak out and immediately focus all of his resources on fixing it. He craves control and if something doesn't go his way he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. When he is sulking in his office even the smallest little thing can set him off. 

Luckily, he seemed to have mellowed out after his defeat. When he gets worked up, instead of exploding and taking it out on the closest thing to him (he still misses his favorite remote), he simply let's out a long, tired sigh and goes back to work. Progress, you'd like to believe!

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) 

He has a very advanced database that he's already explained to you in detail, but you still can't grasp how it works exactly. What you could somehow get was that ever since his face surgeryupgrade, he has been able to record and play back everything he's seen in vivid detail.

He has special folders of where he stores information and one of them is entirely dedicated to you. Every single interaction or passing glimpse is recorded, and sometimes when you're away for a while he likes to play them back and just listen to you talk.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) 

Probably when he realized you were more important to him than everyone else. It was before you guys started dating. He was in the office repairing his hand after a loose prop fell on him, but he couldn't lock the mechanism in place with just one arm.

It wasn't until you walked in and offered to help that he finally let you touch him, albeit only his non-feeling, motionless palm. When he was done he muttered a quiet 'thanks' and began readjusting the fiberglass plates.<

"No problem, that's what friends are for, after all."

That was when it really sunk in. You guys really were acting just like friends. And it wasn't a staged act or anything, it was all just natural interactions. He had to rationalize it in his brain for quite a bit after that. Were you really friends, or was that just a passing remark? No, you actually meant it. Would he consider you for a friend to begin with...yes.

And so it was official. The day he gained his first friend.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?) 

He has never felt the need to hire bodyguards, since his pointer finger alone is considered a highly lethal weapon, not only that, but he has complete control over the studio. So if anyone ever tried to break in, he'll just snap his fingers and have a heavy piano prop crush them.

That being said, he is your personal guard dog and will absolutely snap someone out of existence if he feels you are being threatened. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) 

Puzzles is a tryhard in every way the word could be interpreted. When he figured out there's more to a relationship than surface level romantic cliches, he began to put more thought into what he gifts or what dates he takes you on, wanting them to be just perfect for you! 

Just like the shows he directs, most of them are hit or miss, but he puts his soul into every single thing he does for you, and you'll always treasure that!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His smoking and temper. He's a chain smoker, having one every odd day on good weeks, and blowing through a pack on particularly rough ones. 

For his temper, he usually has a specific set of rules before blowing up. First - try nicely. If that doesn't work, try again, but a bit more sternly. If that doesn't work, try again, but this time make it a clear, threatening warning. And if that doesn't work either, just brainwash them into complying.

You have gone through most of those stages at least a few times, but not the last one. At least, not that you remember. Maybe he figured taking control wasn't worth the trouble, or he was so frustrated that he didn't want to deal with you anymore, but you did notice his patience has been improving, especially when it came to you. Maybe all those therapy sessions you dragged him kicking and screaming to were working!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Looking as nice as possible is a must, especially if it is to impress you! He obsessively fixes his puffy arm sleeves to fold just right, and if there's something wrong with his current outfit like a stain he hasn't noticed or a crease that won't go away he will just replace the entire outfit with a new, completely identical one. </p>

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No. No matter at what stage of the healing journey he's in, you will always be a big part of his world. If you go, he loses his partner, his best friend, his co-director, and everyone he's ever loved. He'd be left alone, as he always was, with his TV. . .And for the first time in forever, he'd grow to hate it.

X = Xtra (Random HC) 

While it was his lifelong dream to work in the creative field of television, Mr. Puzzles is not a creative person. He's more of a businessman than a director, creating several successful tech companies for the sole purpose of funding the studio, despite the low ratings. 

Low ratings which are caused by his complete inability to be original, pulling plot points from other established classics and writing them in with his own, stiff, awkward style of storytelling.

He speaks every language ever shown on TV, is fully able to perform invasive surgery without any risks, knows the copyright laws so well, he might as well be a lawyer, had a hand in engineering and programing his body, and has definitely done some less than legal things to get where he is today in the industry. And yet the thing that stumps him is actually being creative.

Y = You (How would they talk about you?)

Your relationship with him is one of the very few things he wishes to keep in his 'private life', so he doesn't talk about you often, mostly just quickly mentioning you when he explains his absence. "Ah, so sorry for depriving you all of my presence, my lovely partner wanted to watch 'Food fight' for the first time and I simply HAD to intervene!"

". . .who invited y-"

"ANYWAYS back to the show!-"

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) 

He has a powered down mode when he recharges. Before going in that mode he'll go to your room and lay down army style on your bed, but by the time you come home you'll see him  sprawled out on your bed, one foot on the pillow, the other dangling from the edge, with his screen displaying the puzzlevision logo bouncing off the four walls of his monitor.

Thank you guys for reading, hope you enjoyed and have a great day!!! 💕💗💞

[hitomisuzuya]

THE REQUESTS ARE OPEN SKDHQKJDWKAJDJNQ

May I request a smut with Aventurine boss form pleeeassse? :3

He's just sooo amsjwjssjehsjdh

Boss form! Aventurine x fem!reader. Smut. Edging. Size kink. Rough sex. Feral! Aventurine.

The way I smiled seeing Aventurine requests in my inbox. For funsies, Aventurine is bigger in his boss form 😳

Aventurine couldn't help but drink in the sight before him, a predatory smirk ever present behind his mask. You'd had such a confident look on your face when you proudly said you could handle him in his more powerful form.

Now look at you. You were a mess. Straddling him, your pussy drooling and puffy as he mercilessly edged you, grinding you down against his thick cock. The leaking tip grazing and gliding over your clit. He hadn't even put his cock inside of you, and already your eyes were hazy from bliss. Drool even trickled from one corner of your mouth.

His long nails dug into your hips, pushing just the tip inside of you to see you squirm. Your back arched, your cunt clenching wet as more of your juices soaked onto his cock. He chuckled hearing the whimper keen from your throat. It sounded so shy.

"Aww, what's wrong, sweetheart? He cooed, cackling softly. He rutted the tip inside of you, slowly, letting your pussy quiver tight around it before pulling out. "Am I a bit bigger than you anticipated?"

A loud moan ripped from your throat, your body trembling in his beautiful hands. The fact that only the head of his cock was stretching you out this much took your breath away. The look in your eyes was utterly divine to him. It made his cock pulse to see you almost second guessing yourself for a moment if you could actually take him all or not.

Aventurine held you still, your pussy hovered over his cock as he continued to rut into you, pushing in a little more each time. Even now he was still edging you, making sure you felt every rub of his cock slowly stretching you apart.

"So..so big," You moaned, your thighs shaking as you squirmed needily. You struggled to try and urge his cock more inside of you. You barely felt Aventurine's long nails tap against your hips impatiently.

"I hope you don't mind if I take it all now, do you, sweetheart?" Little bit of blood welled underneath this fingernails as he gripped you tighter. He reached a long, slender fingers to circle the tip around your clit. "I'm feeling a little impatient."

Your clit throbbed from his ministrations, your pussy somehow clenching tighter on his cock. Before you could even open your mouth to weakly plead with him to fuck you, he was lowering you down onto his cock the rest of the way all at once.

Aventurine bottomed out a low groan, your mind nearly shattering as his cock finally pushed into your sweet spot. You didn't have any time to recover or adjust before he started bouncing you on his cock.

Your body felt so limp and submissive in his hands. He knew he could break you like glass while he impaled you on his cock. He could see your body tense and then melt as pleasure and pain mingled into one.

You were so lost in how good his cock felt squelching in and out of you, louder moans tinged with whimpers sounding each time his cock kissed your sweet spot. The way your orgasm was building was dizzying.

Aventurine was starting to lose control, feeling how close you were to cumming on his cock. "What a good girl, taking me so well," He grunted, his beautiful fingers swept down to rub your clit. He kept his other hand firmly on your hip, hardly allowing you to bounce yourself on his cock. He could fuck himself deeper into you if you weren't squirming and trying to bounce.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Can't stop thinking about taking afab!mikeys virginity.. i wanna see his reactions to being eaten out for the first time and how he'd react if you didn't stop after he came and overstimulated him on that very first. god.

Pairings: Mikey x reader

Warnings: GN!reader, dom!reader, sub!Mikey, trans Mikey, eating out, overstimulation, worship, use of the term 'tdick'

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

You swear that the person lying on your bed right now is an angel. A divine being sent from heaven itself, sent to grace you with his beauty and affection. You were dating an angel.

This celestial being lay here on your sheets, his head surrounded by a wavy halo, with those gorgeous eyes nervously trained on your face — searching for something to calm his nerves.

“Nervous?”

At this, Mikey shook his head. It was clear as day that he was, indeed, fidgeting with his sleeves as you stood above his delicate form; like a demon waiting to corrupt him, and strip away his innocence.

You were oh, so gentle with him, making sure that Mikey was comfortable before you even so much as kissed his lips. Physically, he was so far from being considered "fragile". He's the leader of a gang; very well respected and even feared by the smart ones. There wasn't any need to treat him like a glass sculpture—ready to crack into a million pieces from the slightest bump—and yet, here you were, trailing one hand down his side, to his hip, with all the care in the world. Like he was almost too precious to touch, even.

A hand between his legs had Mikey moaning into your mouth, squirming while you touched him for the first time. He became wet so, so easily. That wetness coated your fingers even through his underwear, urging you to break the kiss sooner, so that you might taste another part of your lover.

“God you're beautiful...” You breathed, while pulling Mikey's pants off to expose his entrance. His legs instinctively closed, clamping his thighs together so that you had to hold them apart if you wanted to have access to him.

Your lips connect with Mikey's thighs, pressing little kisses along the insides. They were so soft, but you knew that Mikey could probably suffocate you if he really wanted to — you've seen him fight before, and surely his thighs were rather powerful to allow him to move the way he does.

One look into his eyes as you ask him, “Ready?” and, with his confirmation, you delve down, connecting your tongue and his cunt. You start out slow, so as not to overwhelm your partner. Lapping at the sensitive area first, then pushing your tongue inside a bit.

Mikey's hips jerk the first time you suck his tdick, which soon turns into him trying to fuck your mouth with the length he has. It's adorable — the way his hips thrust up, almost mindlessly so, as your lover chases anything that makes him feel good.

Soon enough, Mikey's moans become more frantic; he's getting close. One hand flies down to your head, pushing you deeper into his heat. You take this as a signal to keep doing what you're doing; licking and sucking while Mikey bites his lip hard enough to make it bleed, eventually adding your fingers to help your partner get off.

With one adorable squeal, your lover cums in your mouth. His hips rise off of the bed and his hands fly up to grasp at the sheets-

“Mmmhaah!! Aah~ ” Mikey's eyes glaze over as the sound of his own panting fills his ears. Everything becomes hazy, until it registers in his mind that... you're still going at it.

Despite the intense first orgasm he just experienced; you haven't stopped eating him out yet. Your lips are practically suctioned onto his pussy.

When he realizes that you don't plan to stop anytime soon, Mikey tries to wiggle away, attempting to push your head back with his hand. All it takes is one arm to pin down his hips, the other to hold his wrist, and Mikey isn't going anywhere.

Fully intent on keeping your partner here until you're satisfied, you moan into Mikey's cunt, keeping up the assault until he can no longer do anything other than whimper and buck his hips pathetically.

After all; if you're lucky enough to pleasure an angel, why not get the most out of it?

[daydreaming-nerd]

Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 13

Young Love and Old Money Masterlist

AN: This is more of a filler chapter before shit gets fucking wild in the next one. I'm telling you I'm so pumped for the next chapter ahhhhh! It's not super exciting but I hope you all enjoy it! If you're new here from The Prophecy... Hi!🥰🖤

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Mentions of under the mountain and what Eris did

Word Count: 5,338

Rhys POV: 

I had finally allowed myself to hope. 

The circumstances of which I had granted myself that hope was…well… unpleasant. I would never wish Feyre to be under duress for any reason, but it did bring her into my court for good. When Mor came back with her I had never felt so relieved. I wanted to say that I couldn’t believe that Tamlin would lock her up like that, but I would be lying to myself. 

It wasn’t the first time she had been to Velaris. Once I saw the state she was in at the wedding, too thin, too pale, I started calling in the bargain. I saw her improving dramatically since I started doing so, pink lining her cheeks, muscles building on her arms. She had yet to meet anyone but Mor. Y/n had been dying to meet my mate, but I didn’t want to overwhelm Feyre. She was still learning what it meant to be fae, still getting used to her new life, and still learning to trust me. 

“So you are both High Fae and Illyrian?” Feyre asks, messing with the leftover food on her plate. 

“Yes, my mother was Illyrian and my father was High Fae. That is why I can summon Illyrian wings when I want to.” I answered her question truthfully. I knew that no matter what I wanted to be honest with her, let her see every dark part of me and choose to love me anyways, I owed her that. 

“Were they mates?” she inquires further. 

“Yes they were,” I replied, secretly hanging on every word she said. I tried my best to act aloof, but when she was here? In my home? It was hard to keep my cool. 

“How do you know someone is your mate?” she queries and my heart drops. 

I know that she is talking about Tamlin in her own subtle way, wondering if the High Lord of Spring is her mate. 

“You don’t always know right away, take Kallias and Viviane, they didn’t know they were mates until they were married,” I explained to her, I watched her face lighten, no doubt thinking that there was still a chance for her and Tamlin. 

“I’ve never met a set of mates before,” she said with a hint of longing, like if she could just set eyes on a pair it might ease her mind.

“Would you like to?” My words slipped out before I could think of the implications of them. 

Her eyes flitted up in amusement and I swore I melted at her lighthearted gaze, “I would.” she said.

“My younger sister, y/n. She’s mates with my general, Cassian. We can go and see them if you would like.” I say thinking about how excited y/n will be to finally meet the cursebreaker.

“I would like that very much,” Feyre smiled. 

I stood and walked with Feyre to the edge of the property outside the townhouse. It wasn’t the first time I had flown with her, but I could still tell she was apprehensive of the height. I took the fastest route to The House of Wind and made sure to fly like I was holding my mothers china. Feyre was far from breakable, she was strong enough to withstand just about anything. But that didn’t mean I was going to be someone who challenged that strength, not like Tamlin did. When we arrived at the huge mansion I could feel the female's eyes glancing over the exterior in awe. 

“This is another one of my homes, but I tend to stay in the townhouse. My little sister and Cassian live here with Azriel.” I say opening the door for her. 

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, her eyes taking in every single detail.

I try to pry into y/n and Cassian’s mental shields but I’m met with nothing. They were here though, their scents lingered in the library we passed on the way to Cassian’s room. I knock on the door and I’m met with silence.

“Cassian? Y/n?” I call out hoping for some sort of answer but hear nothing once more. 

As Feyre looks at me expectantly I weigh my options, which would make my sister angrier? Waking her up to meet Feyre or not waking her up to meet Feyre?  I let out a shallow breath and chose the latter, opening the door to reveal a giant heap of limbs. 

“Oh I didn’t know they were asleep,” Feyre said, moving away. 

“Don’t worry about it, y/n will have my head if I don’t introduce you two,” I laugh walking into the dark room, Feyre trailing behind me.

When I approach the bed I can’t even see my little sister, her body covered entirely by Cassian’s wing. The only indication that she’s even there is her small hand peeking out from under it and a tendril of hair on the pillow.   

“I thought you said that Illyrians were protective of their wings?” Feyre whispered, clearly questioning why Cass’ wing was draped over y/n. 

“They are,” I whisper back. “But she’s his mate. He would rather have his wings shredded than have anything happen to her.” I say fondly. I had to admit, while I was still getting used to Cassian and my little sister being together, it was nice to not have to worry about her safety as much. Anyone who dared to harm her would have to face Cassian. Gods spare that poor fool. 

“Even in his sleep?” she asked in a hushed tone. 

“Especially in his sleep,” I laugh, moving to shake my sister's hand, trying to wake her. 

The second I grasp that small hand to shake it awake Cassian’s eyes fly open and the next thing I know there’s a dagger aimed at my throat and a murderous gaze thrown my way. 

“Easy Cass it’s just me,” I chuckle as I hear Feyre gasping and taking a step back. 

“Cauldron Rhys you scared the shit out of me,” Cassian sighed lowering the dagger, beside him my sister stirred. 

“Cass what’s going on?” she asked, her voice laced with sleep. 

“Nothing princess, it's just Rhys,” he answered, smoothing her hair out of her face. It was strange to see my war general so docile and domestic. 

“And Feyre Archeron,” I corrected as Feyre took a step further. “Why don’t you two wake up and meet us outside.” I laugh leading Feyre towards the door. 

Behind me I can hear Cass gently explaining to a very tired y/n what’s going on. 

y/n’s POV: 

“Do you think she saw me?” I ask frantically putting on my dress.

My older brother had just ambushed me with his mate and the first time she saw me might’ve been with a bed head. I was angry with him for waking me, but I would’ve been more pissed if he hadn’t done so, not when I wanted to meet the cursebreaker so badly. 

“I’m sure she did,” Cassian chuckled, strapping his daggers to his side, no doubt going to train when this is over. 

“Ugh,” I sigh, running a brush through my hair. “I probably looked awful.” I sigh, setting down the brush. 

I see Cassian walking up to me through the mirror. He wraps his arms around my waist and places a kiss on my shoulder, sending reassurance and affection down the bond.

“I don’t think you’ve ever looked awful a day in your life, princess.” he smiled into my shoulder. 

“You have to say that you’re my mate,” I laughed, turning in his arms. 

“And your husband don’t forget that title too,” he says, tilting my chin up to meet his warm gaze. 

“How could I ever forget that, husband.” I smile, pecking his lips.

Without another word Cassian and I walk hand in hand down the hallway to where Rhys and Feyre are sitting in the living room. I take a moment to survey their body language. While my brother leans on his knees, seemingly drinking in every breath and movement Feyre has to offer, the cursebreaker sits stiffly on the couch. I make eye contact with my brother and he stands immediately.

“Feyre darling I would like to introduce you to Cassian, the general of my armies and y/n, my little sister,” Rhys says proudly gesturing to the two of us. 

Feyre turns to see us and I swear my heart stops. The last time I saw the female she was prone on the floor underneath the mountain. Every High Lord had sacrificed a bit of power to save her. Becoming high fae seemed to suit her.

“Hello Feyre, it's an honor to meet you,”  I smile. 

“The honor is all mine,” she says timidly, giving a slight bow. “I’ve heard stories of your beauty before. Tamiln and Lucien used to talk about you a lot, I never believed them but now I see they were right.” 

“Oh really?” Cassian inquired brisling at her words and I considered elbowing him in the ribs. 

“You flatter me too much, Feyre.” I say and look to change the subject. “How are you liking Velaris so far?”

“I like it very much, it’s beautiful here.” she says looking around the townhouse. “Rhysand says that you and Cassain are mates?”

“We are, we just had our mating ceremony and our wedding last month,” I say happily. Cauldron, had it already been a month?

“Congratulations to the both of you,” she smiled stiffly.

“I was just about to take a walk through the city, there’s a pastry shop down there that makes croissants stuffed with this delicious chocolate and hazelnut filling. Would you like to join?” I ask, my brother gave me a weary eye, but I shrugged him off. What Feyre needed was a friend, a female friend that is, and I was more than happy to jump at the opportunity. 

“I would like that,” she smiles, the blue in her eyes lighting up ever so slightly. “May I walk with your sister oh so powerful high lord?” Feyre turned to Rhys, sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

Rhys barked out a laugh, one I hadn’t heard in quite some time, “Feyre darling I told you that you are not my prisoner, you may take the air with my sister if it pleases you.” he says gesturing to me.  

“Well then shall we?” the cursebreaker asked me. 

I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as I looped my arm in hers, I had a feeling she and I were going to be fast friends. 

“You’re right this is incredible,” Feyre’s words were nearly inaudible as flakes of pastry fell from her mouth. 

“I know right? I’ve been going there once a week for years. Well sort of…when I was growing up I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. My parents were weird and feared my beauty would be too tempting for males. So they locked me up tight and threw away the key. Rhys used to bring me these pastries all the time, he was my only real window to the outside world.” I divulge, almost regretting telling her so much until I remember how she came to be here in Velaris. 

“So you haven’t really seen the other courts then have you?” she asks, wiping some chocolate from the corner of her mouth. 

“I actually have,” I smile finishing the last bite of my treat. “When Rhys learned to fly the first thing he did was come and get me and take me to a candy shop. From that day forward he snuck me out whenever he got the chance, that’s how I know Tamlin and Lucien. It never sat right with my brother, what my parents did to me,” I continue, hoping to show a side of Rhys that I knew he would never offer up himself. 

Feyre continued walking beside me, for a moment there was silence, as if she was considering my story, comparing it with hers. If she had something to say about Rhys she didn’t divulge, instead turning the conversation to other matters.

“Can I ask about you and your mate?” she queries. “I’m not sure if it’s a personal subject or not, I’m not well versed in the customs of fae.” 

“Ask anything you like, I assure you I have no problem talking about my mate,” I laugh thinking of Cassian’s smiling face now. 

Feyre gives a subtle laugh, “How did you know he was your mate?” she says, turning her head to read my expression as we further walked down the Sidra, seemingly clinging on my every word just like Rhys had clinged to hers. 

“Well Cassian knew first, I didn’t know until much later,” I start recalling the moment the bond snapped, the joy followed by pure terror. “I was set to marry Eris Vanserra, an arrangement made by our fathers a long time ago. When Rhys and I returned from under the mountain we both grew apart as we were both processing what had happened in our own way. He found the arrangement in my fathers things and thought that we could use the Autumn Court’s armies if Hybern should come to call, and after he saved me under the mountain I didn’t want to say no.” 

“He saved you, yet you were still down there?” Feyre asked, and I paused for a moment. Rhys had not told her the conditions of his servitude. 

“You don’t know?” I ask to make sure. If Rhys didn’t explain to his mate why he took the actions he did, it would be a great disservice to both him and his character, one I would rectify.

“Know what?” she asked clearly not seeing the big deal as she finished off her own croissant. 

“The only reason Rhys was Amarantha’s whore was because of me,” I start, feeling the shame seep in. “When we first arrived under the mountain he was able to keep me hidden, but then Hybern paid a visit and he wanted to take me for his wife. Rhys begged Amarantha not to let him take me, she agreed on the condition that he would come to her bed willingly.”  

“I-I had no idea,” the cursebreaker stuttered as her eyes zoned out on something far away. 

“It’s not something he and I talk about much, but it’s for that reason I chose to marry Eris, to try  and repay his sacrifice. However, Eris was cruel, he hurt me and assaulted me, I was nothing more than a pet to him. Cassian was the one to take me back and forth to the Autumn Court during our courtship and I fell in love with him. One night we couldn’t stay away any longer and I found myself in his bed. I knew I couldn’t end the courtship with Eris without bargaining for armies so I kept our relationship a secret.” 

“That must’ve been torture,” Feyre gasped her eyes finally finding me. 

“It was,” I nodded. “I didn’t know we were mates, and I ended up finding out the day of the wedding, but it was too late. I married Eris to save Velaris and Cassian was banished from Autumn. That night Eris found out I was impure, he dumped me over the Autumn court border and left me to die. If it wasn’t for the bond Cassian never would have found me.” I finished telling the story. 

“I- I’m sorry that you had to go through those things. That you came to be with Cassian under such hard circumstances.” she says, as if she doesn’t trust her own words. “But things are better now right? You’re safe?” 

I let out a light hearted laugh, trying to keep the conversation from veering anywhere dark, “I’ve never been safer. Eris is out of the picture now that my brother and Cassian have chased him out of town. Now it’s just Cassian and I in our newly mated bliss.” I smile. 

“I can see how anyone would run from Rhys,” Feyre rolls her eyes dramatically. 

A warm chuckle rumbles through my chest, one so infectious it finds Feyre’s lips too, “I know my brother can be a bit of an ass sometimes. But give him a chance, he might be the king of sarcasm, but underneath all that he truly cares.” I tell her, bumping into her shoulder playfully. 

“I suppose I can try, at least I know I have you now,” she smiles looking across the way at a nearby vendor. 

My heart smiles at her words. 

At least I have you.

My mission was complete. I was able to get her to trust me, to feel like she had a friend in me. Maybe, just maybe, her knowing that there was someone else on her side would bring her closer to Rhys, maybe I could finally find a way to repay the sacrifice my brother gave for me. 

I swing the wooden sword down at Cassian’s, the hard impact of them meeting causing a grunt to leave my lips. The hot sun beat down on us as we spared as best we could. He could easily beat me if he wanted to, I was still a beginner after all,  but he never made me feel like I was inferior. We had been out here for over an hour, the evidence of it being seen on my sweaty fighting leathers. My second set, to be exact. Once my first set got dirty and sweaty Cassian bought me another so I didn’t have to wash them so often. 

I had no clue where he got them, but somehow these were even more beautiful than the last set. My mate even got me a Illyrian steel corset that would keep me from being lacerated, as well as metal bracers to protect my wrists. At first they took some getting used to, the weight of them a new feeling, but now they were like a second skin. 

“Sword high princess,” Cassian instructed me as I felt the weight of the wooden sword start to bring my arm down. 

“It's heavy!” I protest swinging at him again, this time with both hands on the hilt to hit him harder, even though he told me not to do that.

His sword clashes with mine and in one swoop he uses his wooden blade to raise my own. My hands were high above my head as he stood inches from me. 

“I know it’s heavy just wait until you wield a real sword,” he says, placing a kiss on my nose, taunting me. “And don’t use both hands, in real combat you’ll have a shield as well, you’ll need to be able to use that sword with one hand.” 

I let out a low growl before stepping on his foot, earning a groan from him as he didn’t see it coming. My sword sits heavy in my hands as I swing it, knocking his legs out from under him and using my shoulder as extra force to put him on the ground. He lies on his back below me, wooden sword tumbling from his hand. I see him reach for it and lightly press the toe of my boot into his wrist and lower myself on top of him, placing the pretend blade to his throat.    

Cassian’s hazel eyes look up at me in pure awe and amusement and something I had only ever seen from him, pride. 

“Is it bad that this is turning me on right now?” he barked out a laugh causing me to break my menacing stare. 

I snort at his words, letting up the pressure I had on his arms in the process, “Cass you ruin everything!” I laughed, tossing my sword to the side and shifting my foot off his wrist so that I sat fully on his stomach. 

“You call it ruining the moment, I say I’m making it better,” he smirks as his hands find my hips. 

The Lord of Bloodshed leans up to place a passionate kiss on my lips. My hands find either of his cheeks needing him closer to me than he already is. As his tongue swipes my bottom lip and enters my mouth I let out a small moan that has him shifting beneath me. 

“Really guys on the training mat? Is nowhere sacred anymore?” Azriel’s causes us both to nearly jump out of our skin. 

“Cauldron Az,” Cassian curses, putting a hand over his heart like it might’ve stopped. “Enough with the spymaster shit you scared the piss out of me.” 

A smirk tugged at Azriel’s lips, “You deserved it,” he remarked, going to wrap his hands. 

I shift my weight off Cassian and stand offering him my hand. He takes it, even though he’s twice my size and if he truly used my help I would end up on the ground again.  

“You’re getting better princess,” Azriel praised me. “I’d say it’s time you wield a steel sword instead of a wooden one.” 

“Maybe,” Cass warns, dusting himself off. “The last thing I need is you slicing yourself open.” he said to me.

“What afraid I’ll mar my pretty skin?” I tease rocking back and forth on my toes, remembering how Cassian all but worshiped me last night, claiming that the stories of my rose petal soft skin were true. 

“No I’m afraid that you’ll accidentally bleed out on me,” he replies, flicking my nose. 

Azriel chuckles beside us, “You’re far too protective of your mate brother, she can handle a real sword if she can handle your ass.” he taunts. 

“You forget that if anything were to happen to her Rhys would have my head,” Cassian rolls his eyes, placing our swords back on the rack behind him. 

“I suppose you’re right, but she has to start sometime.” Az shrugs, finishing the wrappings on his hands. “Alright princess who you got today?” he asked me. 

I let out a laugh as our new tradition reared its head again. For weeks now after Cass trained me Azriel would come down and they would spar. I would always gamble on who would win the first match, sometimes I would win, sometimes I would lose, it was all in great fun. But lately the boys had been taking it much more seriously and I couldn’t help but laugh at them and call them “Illyrian babies”. 

“Hmmm,” I said, pretending to think. “Considering I just handed Cassian his ass I think you’ve got this one Azriel.”

“Pfft in his dreams,” Cassian scoffs, ripping off his shirt. Azriel copies the motion and I can’t help but feel my cheeks heat at the sweaty males in front of me.  

“Then let’s raise the stakes then,” Azriel boasts. “I win, y/n trains with steel tomorrow” 

“You’re on,” Cassian taunts as he squares up. “Baby, I hope you aren’t prone to splinters because you’re going to be getting them for a while.”

Azriel took two steps back towards me, “Wanna give me some good luck?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

I laughed and gave the shadow singer a playful kiss on the cheek. 

“Now we’re talking,” Azriel laughed, flipping his swords in his hands. 

“Oh you’re a dead male where you stand,” Cassian smirked.

In an instant they were a storm of steel. If it had been a real fight I’m sure wisps of cobalt and crimson power would be among that twister of metal. But their rule was no siphons when training.  In a weird way it was beautiful the way they fought. During the training sessions with Cass I had come to learn that fighting was much like dancing, it was about anticipating your enemies next movement. Knowing where to step when, how to move your feet. 

They were both evenly matched in every way. Even though I spent every day pretending to think about who might win I never truly knew. It was always a guess, or a gut feeling. So far I had bet mostly on Cassian, for obvious reasons, but whenever I put my money on Azriel he seemed to show up. 

As I watched them deflecting eachothers blows and grunting with the sheer force of striking and blocking, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever be as good as them. If I would ever be able to truly fight and win against the warriors. 

My thoughts were interrupted when I saw Azriel’s back hit the ground, his wing being pinned underneath him. Cassian stood above him, chest heaving and pointing his sword at the shadowsingers neck. 

“Do you yield?” Cassian asked out of breath. 

Azriel simply held up his hand to ask his brother for a lift up, silently admitting defeat. Cass took it and hauled the spymaster up in one heave. 

I clapped my hands slowly as Cass walked over to me knowing that this is when I typically took my leave to wash up for dinner.

“It was a good match,” I smiled at my mate trying to hide my disappointment about not being able to train with real swords yet.

Cass slid his fingers under my chin and tilted it up so he could place a goodbye kiss on my lips, “You’ll train with steel tomorrow,” he smiled before returning to his own training. 

I gave an enthusiastic whoop before retreating to The House of Wind to clean up and prepare for dinner with Feyre and Rhys. 

Months Later…

It had finally happened. Feyre had found out that Rhys was her mate and she wasn’t taking it well at all. 

Rhys was distraught when he found me in the library reading. He told me what had happened, from the ambush, to the Suriel telling Feyre about the bond. I honestly spent most of the time being surprised that the cursebreaker had been able to find the Suriel in the first place. My brother told me that his mate sat in the old cabin in the Illyrian mountains and I knew instantly that I needed to see her. 

I had watched the two of them come alive for each other these past few months. Saw Feyre become stronger and more sure of herself. Watched my brother turn back into the male he was when we were just kids. I had befriended the Archeron girl all the while, offering her comfort when I could, as we shared many of the same experiences, being locked up, being in an abusive relationship, being under the mountain…

I ran to Cassian asking him to fly me to the cabin and he did so without a second thought. He saw the panic in my eyes, the need to be there with her, to offer her some sort of comfort. Because as if fate had intertwined us we now shared another experience… being the last to know about our mating bonds. 

As Cassian landed in the snow outside the cabin I wished I had brought more furs. The wind ripped around me, chilling me to the bone. I shook off the memories of being thrown into the Winter Court and marched my way up to the cabin door giving it a knock. 

Feyre opened the cabin door dressed in breeches and a thick sweater, her hands and face covered in paint. 

“I can leave if you would like some privacy, I just wanted to check on you,” I say earnestly trying to keep my teeth from chattering. 

Feyre’s blue eyes look to me and then back to Cassian who stands a few yards away. “Come on in, I could use a friend.” she said quietly and my heart warmed at the word ‘friend’.

I nod to Cassian who takes off into the sky before stepping into the cabin. The warmth of the raging fire immediately heats my cheeks and I discard my furs onto a nearby chair. It had been years since I had been back here. We used to spend solstice here, just the four of us. Of course that was before mother and father died, and I hadn’t been back since. 

I look around and gasped. All over the walls Feyre had painted our eyes, my family's eyes. Each so distinct I could name each one. Amren and Mors, Azriel’s, Rhys’ distinct violet, and at the end, Cassian and I’s painted together. 

“These are beautiful,” I say in awe, looking over each set again. 

“I just needed something to get my mind off things,” she sighed, collecting the paints in a box. 

There was a moment of silence as I tried to let her decide where she wanted the conversation to go. She closed the box with a sigh and then turned to me. 

“Did you know?” she inquired, her eyes flickered with hope and I realized she prayed that I was just as in the dark as she was, that she wasn’t alone in this. 

My heart dropped and her eyes faltered as she heard the answer in my hesitation. “I wanted so badly to tell you, but I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything, it was between you and Rhys.” I say sitting on the floor by the fire. 

“I understand why you didn’t say anything but I wish someone had told me,” she says solemnly before joining me on the rug. 

“Believe me I wanted someone to tell me too,” I chuckle as I lean forward more soaking up the heat of the flames. 

Her eyes shoot to me as she seems to remember how I was in the same situation not too long ago, “When you found out Cassian was your mate, that he had kept the bond a secret from you, were you upset with him?” she asked. 

I cocked my head trying to remember what I felt that day in the Autumn Court, “Honestly it happened so fast that I can’t remember what I was feeling exactly, but I know I wasn’t angry,” I chuckled. “I had loved Cass long before I ever said it. He kept the bond from me because he thought he was taking a weight off my shoulders. He didn’t want me to feel like I had to choose between my mate and my court. I wish I would’ve known, it would’ve saved me a world of trouble because I would’ve chosen him no questions asked. But I understand he had his reasons for keeping it from me.” 

Feyre gave a shallow nod, signaling that she had heard me. “But why didn’t Rhys tell me?” she asked, her words desperate and I wasn’t sure if it was a question I could answer.

“I don’t know for sure.” I said honestly. “But I do know this, Rhys has spent his whole life believing he is a monster because of the front he has to put on for others. I think sometimes he forgets why he puts on that front, to protect his people and his family.” 

I take a deep breath wondering if I should continue but I can’t stop the overflow of words coming from me, “I think he didn’t want you to feel shackled to a monster. All you’ve ever known is the darker parts of him, he wanted to give you a chance to let you know the good parts, then let you decide for yourself,” I place my hand on her arm and her eyes snap to mine. “All I can say is that Rhys wouldn’t keep it from you if he didn’t have a good reason. You don’t have to hear him out today, tomorrow or even next week. But I think you should at some point, if only to give yourself the peace of mind of knowing the full story.” 

Feyre nods again, grabbing my hand and squeezing it tight, “I’m really glad you’re here,” she confessed, her eyes going glassy. 

“Anything for you Archeron,” I smile, feeling my eyes glass over too.

I'm so fucking excited for the next chapter I'm buzzin' guys...

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[themoonchildwhofell]

the elevator

pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

content/warnings: fluff!!, soulmate!au

summary: an AU where you'll see color once you meet your soulmate.

note: hey!!! really wanted to have this written since I've been obsessed with Lizzy Mcalpine's recent album.

"Fuck!" You curse at yourself for sleeping off the 5 alarms you set today. You we're set to meet the head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit for a job opportunity. I mean it wasn't everyday the FBI would offer you a job especially since all you did was login to their server. Okay. I guess "logging in" was a better way of saying it. More like you hacked your way in to gather some information about this weird unsolved crime you listened to in a true crime podcast. It's not your fault you we're wickedly good at coding and that their firewall was ass.

You ran as fast as you can, navigating your way through the horde of people coming and going. Since the world started having soulmates, it was kind of a bummer for you. It started when you just got a pretty mini cooper that you bought with your own savings and was so excited to drive it. Suddenly, the world turned black and white. Everything was dull. You we're kinda expecting it to come when you turn 18 and was shocked that it was 3 years early. Your mom had already told you what will happen and what you needed to do to get back the colors. Since this was an established thing now, a lot of laws were also placed to make sure everyone is safe. One of that would be driving. Since you're now not able to see color, you we're not allowed to drive until you see your soulmate. 10 years later, you still have to push your way through the horde of soulmate-less people the same as you are.

You finally get to the FBI Building in Quantico. As you open the doors, you notice that the elevator was slowly closing in. "Wait!" You shout. Trying to see if the person inside the elevator would stop the doors and wait for you. You sigh a breath of relief as you see the elevator slowly open. You quickly grab your things that you didn't notice fell on the floor when you ran towards the elevator. And ran inside the elevator. You check your phone for the time and see that you still have at least 5 minutes before the meeting starts. You breathe out the air stuck in your lungs not noticing you were holding your breath. You turn to the person who stopped the elevator to thank them.

As soon as you look at the guy beside you, you feel warmth surrounding your whole body. Everything felt like a blur however you didn't feel dizzy. Your eyes start to focus on the most beautiful shade of brown eyes you've ever seen. You try to look around to see if you we're just having a stroke or if this was just a dream. But everything seems to be a lot more vibrant. You we're seeing color again.

"Hi." The man greets you. You turn your head towards him to see the prettiest man you've ever laid your eyes on. He had light brown wavy hair, beautiful eyes, and the nicest smile. "I'm Spencer. I guess we're souimates?"

You smiled back at him and introduce yourself. I guess this wasn't such a bad day after all.

[blerb-f1]

„Pimientos asados“ – A roasted Spaniard

Fernando Alonso x NonBinary!Medic!Reader

I'm aware i already used this trope. I think i just like my drivers sweaty :D

Read more on my Masterlist.

-blerb

„Pimientos asados“ – A roasted Spaniard

„Stupid fucking Security Rules“, Y/N mouthed, buttoning their shirt up. The crisp blue and yellow fabric would soon be entirely sweat through, that was for sure. Their black linen trousers were the most airy thing allowed under safety rules, yet felt still too covering and heat retaining. They sighed once again, placing some bobby pins between their pursed lips. Coarse fingers grabbed each of them, in use of pinning their fringe up and out of the way. With the heat coming, sticky forehead hair would only be an issue. A load of hairspray that was sufficient to destroy the earths ozone layer, was the last step to get their hair out of the way. Seeing that the familiar team cap would rest on their head anyway, Y/N didn’t bother more in that regard.

They placed their badge around their neck, visibly reading “Renault Formula 1 Team Medic Y/N L/N”.

Knowing what was to come, Y/N were not jumping around in joy as they entered the car of another crew member, ready to head to the Track. Bahrain was hot, incredibly hot. Temperatures edging the 40°C Mark were announced before the race and definitely the truth currently. The team member sighed as well, emptying another water bottle.

With 2005 looking like a Championship Year for Renault, Y/N had to make sure their drivers would survive the race. Reaching the race track was however war in itself, with fans crowing outside. Y/N would tiredly wave their hands out of the window in hopes of shooing them away. “Shit”, proclaimed the car’s driver – Mike, the breakguy. Mike was tasked with all things breaks, he had to weigh them before and after races to measure their corrosion, to watch them during the race and tell the mechanics of breakage and measure their temperatures during the stops. He’d always tell Y/N that break discs were nicer than caring for Humans. Afterall, they didn’t rebut advice or act unnecessarily careless with their own bodies. He had taking a quick look in the rearview mirror, though just a second to late.

Some ‘fan’ had stolen the team cap of Y/N’s head, unveiling the bobby pins that were messily strung together. Y/N just scoffed, rolling the window back up before leaning back. “Stupid fuckers”, they cursed, patting down the now ruffled strands. ‘Hopefully the team has some laying around, otherwise Flavio’s gonna be mad again. He hates things that aren’t good appearance wise.’

Mike parked the car as close as could, shuffling around the boot to get out his backpack and Y/N’s workbag. Slinging it over the shoulder, he huffed loudly. “God, these fans are getting out of hand. We’ve had so much teamwear stolen by now – I wonder how other team’s are coping. I bet Ron Dennis is unhappy about them getting crumbly and muddy”.

As they approached the garage, an unhappy face already stood aside. Pat Symmonds, their Technical Director was talking angrily to a few of the mechanics. Apparently he had screwed up quite badly with something – not that it was of matter to Y/N. They fumbled around their bag to fish out a towel. Renault branded of course. Pouring water on the towel provided it as lovely cold recourse once placed on their own head, but also hid the hat-lessness from Flavio if he were to appear out of nowhere. A skill the otherwise loud Italian man knew better than one would expect him to.

Y/N ducked in the back of the garage searching through the shelves in hope of finding anything. A hat was important as team gear but also as sunshade in this demanded climate. The garage proved to be fruitless however, so Y/N made their way over to hospitality, still hidden under their fluffy frotté  head covering. The ladies behind the coffee counter were positively buzzing, their updos looking good despite the horrible weather. Flavio always had beautiful ladies work there and many mechanics would appear in hospitality, trying to fight for their numbers. Y/N on the other hand was a happy sight as they’d usually just ask for an Latte Macchiato and chatter about recent drama.

“Nice to see you Y/N!” the fronting one exclaimed.

“Nice to see you too, Monique!”, Y/N expressed before leaning onto the counter.

“Has Flavio passed by recently? I hope not.”

“If it has to do with your fancy new headdress, he hasn’t. Might want to ask Zanarini whether there’s still a cap ins storage. He just got one for Giancarlo. His got stolen as well apparently.”

The medic sighed before downing a cup of coffee given to them by Monique. “I’d better hurry, I’ve got to check Fisicella and Alonso over soon. Bye Monique!”

“Bye-Bye Y/N!” she waved cheerfully before giving her colleagues a snicker. Something bad must be going on they’d hear of later.

Trotting through hospitality with tired feet, Y/N soon spotted Enrico Zanarini standing to the side, his phone perched up. Being Fisicella’s Manager must have been a tiring job for sure. They approached the hard working man slowly, making sure he was not in a call or anything.

“Ah, Y/N. I presume you also got caught by the hat thieves, am I right in that assumption?” was his greeting. The medic just nodded. “I’m sorry to ruin your day now, but I got the last one out of storage. It seems someone snuck in overnight and emptied our warehouse here. I wonder what’s wrong with the people today.”

With their head hanging low, Y/N trotted back to the garage, knowing that Flavios scolding was inevitable by now. On the way the bumped into another person, blinking twice to notice they had run into Fernando.

“Good Morning Y/N, you’re late to the check-up.”

“I know, I know, Fernando. I’ve been on a treasure hunt the last hour. Some idiot stole my cap but we don’t even have a single one left.”

The driver lifted his eyebrows. “Not a single one?”

“None. The others all seem to have theirs so I’m the only one getting chewed out by Flavio.”

Fernando seemed to ponder for a while before settling onto Y/N’s office chair.

“Doctor, please proceed with your check-up.”

Y/N started their work, taking measurements and jolting down Fernandos health data.

“Please remember to drink a lot for this GP, I know the heat is horrible. It’ll be worse after the Race. I’m going to check up on you and get you both hydrated before the Press conference. Can’t have you fall on your face from heat exhaustion.”

“Us both? How are you so sure I’m landing on the Podium?”

“I just know, Fernando. Trust me. But something is telling me it’s not going to end well for Giancarlo…”

“You sure you aren’t Magic Alonso with these visions?”

“Maybe. Now zoom off. Fisi is waiting and I still gotta report to Flavio.”

Fernando stood up from his chair, eying the medic again. Finally, he lifted the cap from his head and placed it on theirs. “Look. Problem fixed, right?”

“Fernando, you’re our face! Wear it yourself!”

“I won’t” he chuckled while crossing his arms. “I can’t stand you looking so sad. Especially if I can fix it so easily, no?” He turned towards the door. “I’ll be going now. See you later!”

Y/N settled onto their chair with another sigh, though one team cap richer. Fisi was already standing in the door with his trademark grin. “Enrico told me you were looking for a cap. Seems you stole one yourself?”

This day would only grow longer.

As the race started and Y/N sat in the garage, monitoring stats and news relayed to them from the Pitwall to check on their drivers. With Fisicella coming in after Lap 3’s engine failure, work was sure to arrive. They took his stats again, got him equipped with nutritious drinks and snacks while also handing his Manager stuff for a bath. Exact instructions regarding temperature and procedure were added along with it. Since the race was still ongoing, they couldn’t care for the driver themselves which was unfortunate but Fernando needed full attention now. Soon after Michael Schumacher overshot a corner with apparent car issues, leaving one of their top contenders ouf of the race. Y/N was on the edge of their seat, attention at it’s peak. Fernando was doing well, staying cool despite the horrible heat. He kept drinking which was very good. His pitstop on Lap 20 went very well, he looked all right in the car as well.

As the race progressed and Fernando stayed on top of the Leaderboard, his victory lap around the track was lovely to watch. Seeing him do that bunny ear gesture in the car was always an amusing sight. Y/N rushed out with the Crew towards Parc Fermée to catch their lucky driver exiting his car, stepping on top and gesturing towards the sky. His race suit was entirely sweat through, his face red but his smile was real.

He headed up to the cooldown room, with Jarno Trulli and Kimi Räikkönen behind him. Y/N was following along as well, equipped with a coke can and some wet towels. Their exasperated winner slid tiredly on the floor, leaning back but still smiling like the sun incarnate.

“Here, Fernando” Y/N said, handing him the Coke Can. He deserved such a treat after this tiring race. They took the towels, helping Fernando get the sweat of his face and hair while also stopping it from burning. After a while, the call came to step outside. Fernando headed towards the Podium, pumping his arms and cheering loudly while Y/N kept looking from beside, happy for their driver.

Getting shooed off to the press conference afterwards kept Fernando away from Y/N who meanwhile prepared everything to get him going again.  Watching the conference on TV was quite amusing – Jarno looked like a wet dog, Fernando lost his color and Kimi was beet red.

As the conference finally ended, Fernando tiredly stumbled into his driver’s room. His steps had gotten weaker as he finally arrived, sinking onto his sofa. Y/N was quick to arrive, smiling at him with their teeth showing. “Congratulations Nando, that was a good race!”

The tired driver faintly nodded as he leaned back, just breathing in. The adrenaline was slowly leaving his body as Y/N handed him his sports drink. “Let’s get you back in shape, right?”

Shortly after, Fernando was bathed, properly dressed and back on his sofa, looking way less haggard. Y/N sat behind him, bobby pins placed between their lips again. A soft brush was holding his locks back as they got put into a short ponytail, barely enough to keep it out of his neck from scrubbing at the now very sensitive skin. Y/N placed a few Bobby Pins in strategic fashion to keep the shorter hairs out of his face, to stop it irritating his eyes. Fernando just sighed in relief as the hair stopped bothering him. “You were right with your prediction” he said.

“Hmm?” Y/N mouthed, still busy.

“With Giancarlo not finishing and me winning. You truly are the real Magic Alonso.”

Y/N laughed softly, patting his shoulder before placing his last Bobby Pin.

“It was your work as much as mine.”

As they were finishing, Y/N lifted the cap from their head, wanting to place it back on Fernandos. The driver however grabbed the medics arm, stopping them from finishing their action.

“Don’t. Keep it. It’s yours now my friend. I know you’ll bring me luck wearing it.”

He lifted the blue Fabric before placing it on the crown of Y/Ns head again. “Please, bring me more luck in the future.” He said, his grin cheeky.

Y/N turned to the side, not wanting him to see their reaction. “Shut up you stupid roasted Paprika.”

“Pimientos asados, eh? Sounds like a great Idea. Let’s get some” he laughed, getting up and pulling Y/N behind him.