#taking breaks by standing on the back step

[footygirl114]

Soldado (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

One of the prompts inspired me, so here ya go. It's definitely rusty but please let me know what we think!

Prompt: “Don’t just say that and then walk away!”

Walking up to the front door of the Putella’s home was one the most nerve wracking experiences you have ever experienced in your first 18 years of life. This home had become your sanctuary in the last 3 years, the family had taken you in and made sure you were loved and cared for and in return all you did was ruin the best and only friendship you ever had. 

You had grown up with an absent mother and a drunk father, to say your childhood had been rough was an understatement. You were able to fend for your self by the age of 6 and you knew to hide whenever your father came home after 8pm. When he wasn’t drunk he was a half caring father, but you could never shake the black eyes and bruises you learned to hide. The only good thing he ever did for you was to make sure by the age of 15 you had been a good enough football player to be in the training with the Espanyol team. 

This is where you met Alexia Putellas, she was this young superstar but she still befriended you. It didn’t take her long to see through the lies of where the bruises came from, and one late practice where you avoided going home she got you to spill the truth. From then on she made sure that holidays, school vacations, and everything in between you were invited to stay with her family. 

Her mom became like a mother you never had, and Alba was the sister you never had. But Alexia she just always remained Alexia, you never knew what that meant until you turned 18. You had finally realised that she was more than just anything to you, and that you were madly in love with her. Never being able to keep a secret from her, you confessed your feelings to her 3 weeks ago and you haven’t heard from her since she walked away without responding. 

Which brings you back to today, trying to work up the courage to knock on the door of the only place you would ever consider a home ready to say your goodbyes to the family you wish you still had. The last 3 weeks have been a whirlwind, and it took your drunk father almost breaking your arm and sending you to the ER to finally realise you needed to get out. You had walked the streets of Barcelona aimlessly trying to find a solution, and when the universe showed you a sign you jumped at it. 

Shaking your head you gained the courage to reach up and knock at the door of the house. While you wait for someone to answer you hope that you can get this out without breaking down. 

When the door opens you come face to face with Alba and you say softly “Hola, Albs.”

Alba smiles softly and leans against the door, blocking your way in, and she asks “what are you doing here Y/N?” 

“I need to talk to Ale” you tell her deciding not to drag this out. 

She crosses her arms over her chest and asks “Why would I let you do that? She shut down and hasn’t said anything for the last weeks and we haven’t seen you, you must have hurt her Y/N.” 

Shaking your head you tell her “I never meant to do that Alba, but I promise I just need to tell her one thing and then I am gone.” You know you sound like your begging and you hope the desperation in your voice helps. 

Before she can respond Alexia shows up at the door behind her sister and says “Alba its okay I got it.” 

Alba turns and looks to her and then turns back to you and says “if you hurt her again I will hurt you.” She finishes with a glare and then moves back into the house. 

Alexia steps outside on the porch with you and softly shuts the door. You take a moment to take her in, knowing this will be the last time you may see the women who has your heart. She’s in her most comfortable state, a pair of footy shorts, a soft hoodie (you note is one of yours) and barefoot.

You both stand there in silence for a minute and she finally breaks it and says “I am not ready to talk to you about it.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I came here to tell you one thing and then I will be out of your hair, you wont need to worry about avoiding me” you tell her softly. 

“what? Y/N whats going on?” she asks softly stepping closer to you. 

You take a step back and say “I’m leaving, I quit the team and I joined the army. I know you don’t understand it but I need to not be here anymore, and I need to do something thats for me, and will ensure I get away from him.” 

She stares at you and doesn’t say anything but a soft “Y/N.”

“No, don’t do that, this isn’t about you this is for me. I love you Alexia and I will always be in love with you but I cant stay on the side line of my own life anymore, I need to become the best person  I can be and get out from this dark cloud that is hanging over here. Its for the best, I cant wait to see you become the superstar I know you will be, but I cant do that here, watching it and knowing that you don’t love me back, that you aren’t in love with me. So this is goodbye Ale” 

You slowly move down the stairs and move to wipe the tears under your eyes, and you make it to the end of the walkway when she moves and says “Don’t just say that and walk away from me Y/N! Thats not fair.” 

You pause and turn your head towards her and says “what’s not fair is losing everything I have ever wanted because I have never been able to lie to you, I am doing something for me and you have to understand that.” 

You don’t let her add or say anything else as you turn your back on her and move to your car, you hop in and start the engine driving away to your new life without looking back. 

8 YEARS LATER

After 8 years of being a proper solider and training to better your self, you were finally able to settle down, and of course Barcelona would always have a hold on your heart. During your basic training your superiors noticed how easy it was for you to learn and communicate in many languages, add in that you knew how to fight and take it hit it made you the perfect soldier for a special ops team. 

During your 8 years of active duty you spent 3 tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and other War torn countries. And when you were not on tour you were either in the UK or the USA learning and bettering your skills to be a better help for the team. It was a long 8 years of constantly being on the go and when an offer came up to go back to Barcelona and be no longer on active duty you took it. 

They wanted your skills to help teach younger inexperienced soldiers and you craved the freedom and your bones ached for a stable home for your self. The Barcelona Police force hired you and were more than happy to have you work for them and also assist the army in their training. 

Barcelona was where you had your own personal demons, and you knew after 8 years of running it was finally time to slow down and face those demons head on. It helped you were much stronger and mentally tougher then when you were 18 and you knew you needed to face them head on. 

What you didn’t expect was to have to face one of them only a month into your new life in Barcelona. You had been out on patrol with your partner and were called to an assault at one of the smaller beaches in town. You got out of the passenger seat of the car and did a scan of the surroundings and you noticed a small crowd gathered at the edge of the sand and one person lying on the ground. 

You met your partners eye and you both walked over, you with your military training on high alert, one hand on the hilt of the gun at your hip, your eyes roaming the surroundings. When you got closer to the crowd you almost stopped, when you noticed who was standing off on the edge of the crowd but you pushed through when you saw the guy on the ground get up and start to run at someone else in the crowd. You and your partner both sprang into action and got in between them and the guy you were holding tried to take a swing at the other and you easily subdued him and had him on his back with his hands locked behind his back in the blink of an eye. 

Once he was secure with the handcuffs on your hip you hopped up and hauled him up with you, you turned and met your partners eyes who nodded at you and had his guy also in cuffs. He turned to the crowd and asked for any witnesses to what happened, as you moved your guy to the car and sat him in the back seat. 

You sat him down and asked him his side of the story. After listening to his side you closed the door and left him in the car as a second patrol car rolled up for the second guy. You nodded to them and mentioned the guy int he back of your car and you walked back to the crowd. You took a deep breath and readied your self to face the first of your demons. 

“Who’s next to be interviewed?” you asked your partner as you walked up beside him, and he pointed to the group of 3 girls to the left.

Moving towards them you introduced your self “Hola, I am Officer Y/L/N and I will need to see your IDs and then I can take your statement.” They all handed their IDs over and as you were matching them and recording their names and information you couldn’t help but take a peak at the women who held your heart. 

You hadn’t seen her since that day 8 years ago on her mothers front steps, you had followed her career and you knew she was in the middle of a miracle season and she was on track to win everything. Seeing her on the computer screen through a grainy stream wasn’t the same as seeing her in person. Just looking at her was slowly igniting that spark inside you that you thought you had buried 8 years ago. 

“Can one of you tell me what happened?” you ask them ready to take notes and keep this professional. 

“so basically, we were lying here and the guy in your car came up and started to give us a bit of a hard time, but were used to it. SO we told him to leave us alone, and then the guy there with your partner walked up and tried to defend us, and the other guy just threw a punch at him.” You had their IDs so you knew this was Maria Leon who explained it. 

“they started going at each other and thats when Ale called 911, the commotion drew more people over and they stopped fighting when they had a crowd and then you guys showed up.” Jennifer Hermoso explained the rest to you. 

“thank you, so to be clear, the one in the back of the car threw the first punch and harassed you?” you asked wanting to finish this up. 

Maria smiled and said “I wouldn’t say harassed, we can take care of ourselves, but yes he started it and threw the first punch.”

“And you both agree?” you ask.

“Yep, he did” Jennifer agrees. 

Alexia just nods and remains silent through the whole exchange. You nod and say “okay this clears things up, someone may be in touch but you are free to go.”

The two of them smile and say their thanks and move to leave, but Alexia remains standing in front of you silent. 

“ale you coming?” Jennifer asks her and it seems to shake her out of it and she nods and moves to gather her stuff. 

You nod at nothing and move to go back to your partner, you both agree you to the statement you got from different people and then you move to walk back to the car together. Before you can get half way there you turn back and look toward Alexia and you meet her eyes, as she’s still watching you. 

It takes your partner nudging you for you to break contact and you move to get into the car. before you can fully sit you hear “Officer Y/LN” yelled out behind you and you turn and see Alexia moving quickly towards you, you close the door and step towards her and away from your partner hearing the exchange. 

“Yes Alexia?” you ask her softly as she stops a foot from you. 

“You’re back?” she asks you to the point. 

“I am” 

“for good?” she asks you again straight to the point.

“I think so yeah” 

“okay then.” she says and moves to walk away. 

“thats it?” you ask her confused. 

She shrugs and half turns to you and says “How does it feel being on the other end of someone walking way from you? It sucks, being left to wonder what they mean and what they are going to do.” 

You can feel the pang in your heart listening to how broken she sounds and you ask her “Can we talk about it?” 

“now you want to talk? What happened to talking 8 years ago?” she turns on you half shouting and you know that she’s drawn and scene. 

“ale, please can we talk somewhere not here, and not when I am on duty?” you ask her. 

She looks around and shakes her head and says “you know where to find me, if you even want to.” As she finishes she jogs away towards her friends and you are left standing there wondering if this is a demon you will be able to tame, or if you were doomed to be in love with someone you can never have. 

#woso imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #espwnt x reader

[kenntolog]

need to know how does cool boyfriend sukuna met loser!gf reader…. and how did sukuna likes her djbekwbsks

𝝑𝝔 an: this is so corny but i hope u like it!! more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here! cw: a lil blood and a minor injury.

i think before meeting loser reader properly, sukuna was like angrier and more intimidating to his surroundings; a constantly irritated expression on his face and ready to curse everyone and everything. these characteristics didn’t seize with the start of your relationship, but they have died down significantly ever since.

so of course, sukuna getting angry about losing a game(yes, him meeting loser reader on the game he lost lol) and the ball in his hand turns into a weapon as he throws it away blindly, not turning around to see what happened even after registering the sound of a loud thud and a round of gasps.

it’s only when uraume, the team’s manager, calls out to him that sukuna’s angry face turns irritated and he rolls his eyes, cursing under his breath, before looking over in their direction.

the view is so unexpected sukuna can barely keep his laughter intact, eyes lazily scanning through the small crowd of people to find you on the previously squeaky clean floor of the court — the victim of his angry fit — with blood gushing out of your nose and face red from crying. it’s such a pitiful sight(he is such a menace) that he just lifts his arms behind his head, locking them in a relaxed manner, and continues staring.

uraume gives him a cold glare, “take her to the nurse’s office.”

the commanding tone of their voice makes him roll his eyes, “tsk. take her yourself.”

“sukuna.”

coach yaga’s voice contains more warning and sukuna groans, holding his hand out for you to take from the fear of being suspended from trainings, which has happened before because of his anger issues.

you look up at him with surprise and gently place your hand in his, not expecting him to tug you up roughly. the walk to the nurse’s is silent, with you occasionally sending shy glances his way while you’re holding a cloth to your nose.

“where the fuck is the nurse?” he asks impatiently, sitting down on the stool while you settle on the examination table.

he doesn’t really care for the answer, but he still hears your meek voice mumbling, “it’s her break time.”

sukuna is too restless to just sit there and wait for the nurse to come back. he shoots up from his spot, looking around for something before he steps closer to the table you’re seated on. the way your eyes widen, body instinctively moving back to avoid his space makes the corners of his lips curl upwards in a satisfied smirk. he makes a point of standing between your knees.

he tugs the bloody cloth out of your hands, ignoring your little ‘hey!’, and cups your jaw a little too roughly, angling your head a bit higher to inspect your nose.

for a totally bleak loser you have a pretty face, he notes in his head, a sight for sore eyes. eyes looking up at his like he’s from the outer world, a little scared and maybe even mesmerised, lips parted slightly with one side covered in dried blood, hair disheveled and eyes still a bit watery. his interest was piqued maybe a just a little.

sukuna tilts your head forward and pinches the soft part of your nose between his thumb and index finger. you hiss in pain, hands flying up to grip his wrist, which makes him roll his eyes.

“tsk, what a crybaby.”

you pout at him, a small whimper escaping you as he continues scanning your face intensely. you mutter something under your breath, looking away from him.

“… didn’t hit me with a ball—”

“what did you say?”

“nothing!”

his grip on your nose tightens and you whine.

“oww~” you pull away from him, hiding your nose from him with a wary look before you quietly confess, “i said if you didn’t hit me with your ball then i wouldn’t be crying, y’know.”

“i didn’t hit you with my ball.”

“eh? you totally did though…”

“i threw my ball and you just fell under it. your fault, loser.”

you stare at him in bewilderment and sukuna doesn’t hide his great amusement. he steps away, lazily looking through cabins; he finds wet wipes and a pack of bandaids. throwing them at you without looking he once again stands in front of you, watching the way you messily wipe the blood from your face.

but he hates when things aren’t neat so he takes the pack of wet wipes from your lap, pulling out one, and cleans the blood where you missed, his free hand on top of your head. he throws it somewhere behind himself and takes the pack of bandaids, picking out the ugliest one in his opinion to plaster it over the little bruise on the side of your nose.

you say ‘thank you’ with a small bow and stumble out of the nurse’s office, tripping over your own feet, while he just stares at you indifferently.

you bake him little cupcakes, as a sign of your gratitude, not knowing that he isn’t that fond of sweet treats. sukuna still eats them, begrudgingly enjoying their taste.

though he can’t deny that he is amused by you. and that’s how it started, you know, sukuna just being amused with the way you get flustered when making eye contact in the hallways and lecture halls, the way you still always shyly wave at him in greeting, eyes shining a bit brighter when he gives you a little smirk or a nod.

you’re such a loser, sukuna thinks, always so shy around him but also ready to do anything he says. so at first, of course, he thinks of using that obedience for his own benefit, but soon those thoughts leave his mind when sukuna realise how sincere and interesting you are once you really get into the conversation.

what first starts as little jabs(i would say bullying) from him and you getting frustrated with every teasing and insulting word he throws in your address, soon enough transforms into something more; sukuna’s interest only rising along with the adoration that builds up inside his usually unresponsive heart.

#— miya writes! #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[rafeandonlyrafe]

followed (part one)

words: 1.2k

warnings: stalker (not rafe), violence, rafe beats someone up but the guy is a creep

followed (part one) / accused (part two)

“hey.” you whisper, ducking under the man's outstretched arm as he looks at the various snacks on the shelf. “pretend you know me, please. i'm being followed.”

rafe doesn't really question it, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and smiling down at you, just as a man turns down the aisle. 

“there you are, baby!” you put on a big smile, eyes still wide, telling the truth of your feelings as rafe can see how nervous you are. “been looking all over the store for you!”

rafe can see the guy, overdressed in lots of layers of jackets, physically deflates when he sees you're no longer alone and defenseless.

“sorry, babe. i got caught up with the snacks.” rafe laughs, grabbing a random bag off the shelf and dropping it into his basket. 

“its okay.” you shake your head. “just happy we're back together.”

rafe keeps you close to him, arm wrapped around your shoulder as the man moves away. you let out a sigh of relief, head tipping forward to rest against rafes chest.

“thank you.” you say before straightening up and taking a step back.

“no problem.” rafe could tell how pretty you were from the moment he saw you, but now that you're not riddled with nerves, he can see that you're gorgeous. he shifts the basket to his other hand as he reaches out. “im rafe.”

“y/n.” you shake his hand, palm still slightly sweaty.

“let me stick with you while you shop, yeah? just in case he comes back.”

“oh my god, i would really appreciate that.” you lay a hand over your chest. “i dropped my basket a couple aisles back when he turned down the same row.”

rafe follows you, keeping his head on a swivel. he knows he can take the guy, he looked on the older side from the brief glance rafe had at him, but that doesn't mean he wants to get surprise attacked.

“i don't have much more that i need to grab.” you explain to rafe, walking just a step in front of him, causing you to turn down the aisle first.

you gasp and back up into rafe when you realize the same man is now hovering over your basket, waiting on you to return to it.

“i got you.” rafe whispers, dropping his basket, causing it to clatter against the floor. the man glares and doesn't back off like rafe was hoping he would.

“back away from my girls shit.” he growls out, dropping his voice. 

“oh yeah, what are you gonna do? beat me up and then get arrested? there's cameras everywhere.” the man says, taking a step forward.

rafe is quick to reposition himself to stand in front of you. “and then those same cameras will see you following my girlfriend all over the store. get out before i beat your ass.”

the man looks rafe up and down before rushing away, hopefully finally actually leaving.

“shit.” you let out a whine, causing rafe to quickly whip around to face you, seeing tears welling up in your eyes.

“hey, you're safe now.” rafe says, placing his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them. when the tears break loose and slide down your cheeks, he pulls you forward into his chest, allowing you to sniffle until you've got yourself under control.

“sorry.” you laugh awkwardly, wiping away the tears before realize you'd left most of them as a stain on rafes shirt.

“it's okay.” he says. “men who mess with women and kids are the worst.”

you nod in agreement. “i don't know how to thank you…”

“you can thank me by not wasting your tears on that creep, alright?”

you nod as rafe grabs your basket, not handing it to you as he picks up his own. “what else do you need to get?” he asks.

“um, just some snacks.” you follow rafe as he confidently walks through the store.

you finish your shopping together before heading to the checkout. rafe doesn't even let you argue as he pays for what you have in your basket, a little shocked by how much he makeup costs, but he knows it won't dent his bank account.

“shouldn't i have paid for you since you helped me?” you ask as you walk out of the store, glad that the parking lot is lit up with street lights, as the sun has set.

“nah.” rafe just smiles at you. “now where's your car? wanna make sure you get in safe.”

you lead him towards your jeep, watching his muscled arms as he puts your couple bags into the trunk.

“thanks so much. i… i don't even want to think about what would have happened to be if you weren't there.” you take a deep breath.

“hey, don't worry about it.” rafe watches you climb into your car, giving him a small wave before taking off. rafe watches you leave, turning out onto the street before walking to his car. 

hes about to pull out of his parking spot himself when he sees a beat up sedan sat in the darkest spot of the lot, right under a burnt out light. rafe squints into the darkness, letting out a growl when his suspicions are right. 

he leaves his car, not bothering to sneak as he walks up and taps on the window. the man is disgruntled but rolls it down.

“there's cameras in the parking lot too.” he says.

“yeah, but it's pretty dark right here.” rafe looks around before reaching into the open window, holding the man by the collar while his other fist pummels into him, hitting his face over and over until it's a bloody, bruised mess.

“that'll teach you to never mess with poor defenseless women ever again, fucking creep.” rafe isn't finished yet though as he spits onto the man, taking the keys out of the car and tossing them away, leaving the man to have so scrounge on the ground for them later.

“shit.” rafe turns around to see your car is back in the parking lot, your eyes wide as you watch him from the drivers seat.

rafe wipes the blood off his knuckles onto the guys shirt before walking over to your jeep.

“im sorry you had to see that.” rafe says as you step out, piece of paper in hand.

“it… its okay.” you shake your head. “im glad you did that.” you're not one for violence, but the creep had it coming.

“are you okay?” rafe asks, not sure why you came back, but he's glad to see you again.

you stick your hand out, giving the paper to rafe. “came back to give you my number. can't believe i left without doing that.”

“ah.” rafe smirks. “seeing me beat up that guy didn't make you change your mind?” he sticks the paper into his pocket, knowing he's going to pull it out the second you're gone to save it to his phone then memorize the digits.

“not at all.” you admit, looking down at your feet. “if anything, it makes me like you more.”

“dinner this friday?” rafe doesn't want to wait to plan out your date, needing to know before letting you go when he will see you again.

“that's too far away. how about tomorrow?” 

rafe is surprised how forward you are, but grateful for it as he nods. “ill text you.”

“ill be waiting.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

#rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe drabble #rafe blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x female reader

[afterglowsainz]

i'mgonnagetyouback pt. 2 | max verstappen

part 1

summary: max is determined to win y/n back before leaving las vegas and an unexpected reunion at the hotel's pool might be just what he needed

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i wasn't actually planning on doing a part 2 to this but a few people requested it and since i'm a pathological people pleaser here it its !!

the tortured athletes department series

“okay so, step one.” charles’s voice caughts his attention.

if max was gonna get y/n back, he needed to do it that weekend, she was leaving for her other tour dates and he had other races, and he needed a plan. that’s where charles, daniel and lando come in.

“break up with your girlfriend.” the monegasque continues. the other two men in the room nod, agreeing with the ferrari driver.

the second y/n’s concert finished, max felt the urge to go running backstage to her just like old times, but his plans were interrupted by the women he went to the concert with in the first place. his girlfriend wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and her daughter was too exhausted to even walk in a straight line, so he took them both to the hotel and then ran into charles’s room to create a plan, calling daniel and lando to join them.

“you’re right.” max says.

the thought of breaking up with his current girlfriend has been on the back of his mind for a while now. he didn’t really wanted to accept it, but he’s been in love with y/n all this time and it just wasn’t fair to be with someone else. step one was the most urgent.

“step two, call y/n and tell her that you wanna talk to her.” daniel speaks this time.

this one was the step he was the most nervous about. they haven’t talked for ten months and now suddenly he was thinking of getting back together, i mean, what if she moved on already? just because he hasn’t doesn’t mean she didn’t either; but he remembered her singing a few hours ago about getting him back, even if it was just to punch him in the face. he would take what he can get.

“maybe mention that you went to see her show as well.” lando adds.

“what if she thinks i’m a creep or something?” charles gives him an incredulous look.

“mate, come on, you’re her ex, not some random dude.” max nods again and felt the stress of anticipation already creeping in.

“it’ll be fine, max, nothing to worry about.” daniel tries to reassure him and lando smiles at him in the same way.

he exhales and stands up from the chair he was seated on.

“i should go back to my room. start things with the right foot.” they all agree with him and wish him good luck.

when he got back to his room, he saw his girlfriend’s daughter already asleep on her bed and his girlfriend laying down and watching something on tv. he prepared himself internally and went into the room.

“hey.” he says. “can we talk?”

he was quick. it was as uncomfortable as breaking up with someone is, but he felt a bit relieved after. she tried to persuade him into thinking about it, he said he didn’t want to hurt her. he told her they could stay at that room and he would just ask for another at the reception, she agreed. she asked if this was because of y/n, he stayed silent for a moment. he couldn’t lie, not that it was all already out there, and y/n was not a secret he had to hide to anyone. he said yes. she asked him to get out. he did.

max went down to the hotel’s reception and asked for an extra room. since it was a bit late at night they asked him to wait an hour until they arranged one of the suites for him. he agreed without complaining and was about to head back to charles’s room, however, already on the elevator he impulsively pressed the button for the last floor that took him directly to the pool. it was dark and there was no one there, the dim lights on the inside of the pool being the only lightning.

he walked over to the balcony and admired the view of las vegas beneath him, from his position he could see the whole downtown, including the track that he would be driving that weekend. if he wouldn’t have been too distracted he would have heard the sound of small steps going his way, stopping right at the entrance.

you thought you were seeing things, or that you had gone mad. you blink twice, and when he didn’t disappear, you knew max verstappen was standing right in front of you. you could recognize him anywhere.

the uncomfortable burning feeling of being looked at got the best of him and he finally turned around. he didn’t say anything, thinking it was his imagination playing games, but it wasn’t, you were right there, just mere inches away from him.

“y/n.” was all he could say. he figured a hello would be the way to go. “hey.”

you looked just as shocked as he was, but that didn’t stop you from answering.

“hi, max.” your voice was more confident than how you actually felt.

you had just done a three hour show and just wanted to relax a bit in the pool before going back to your room, and now you were there, facing your ex-boyfriend.

“you’re staying here?” he asks, regretting it instantly because of course you were.

“yeah.” you answer, not moving a single centimeter. “i have a few shows this weekend.” you explain.

“i know.” he says, almost too quickly. you arch a brow at him but don’t say anything. “i’m racing here this weekend.” you nod.

“i know.” you copy his answer, although you take a few more moments to say it.

“i went to your show.” he says out of nowhere.

this shocks you even more than before because what does he mean he went to your show?

“what?” is all that you could mumble.

“tonight.” he clarifies. “i went to see you. i hope you don’t think that’s… inappropriate.” his eyes finally leave yours and he looks at the pool instead.

“i don’t think… why would it be inappropriate?” you ask, a bit flabbergasted still. “i don’t think that.”

he nods relieved to hear you say that.

“so you went to the show?” you ask again. “you heard me sing all those songs?” you question, a bit shy.

“yeah, it was incredible.” he smiles at you. “you’re the most talented person i know.”

this makes you blush because he still has that power over you. you couldn’t manage to thank him for the compliment, so you just smiled at him, which was enough for him.

“i liked your surprise song.” he states, more confident this time.

“oh.” you reply. “you did?” he nods. “yeah, i guess it’s a fun song.” you chuckle, knowing damn well you wrote it thinking about him.

this was it, he thought. this was the moment he had been fantasizing about since he stepped into the stadium that night. how to get y/n back? this was his opportunity to do something. no charles, daniel or lando to whisper in his ear. it was all him.

“is it true?” he questions.

“what?” you frown.

“what you were singing in the song?” he explains. “i’m not gonna flatter myself thinking you wrote it about me, but, did you?”

you bit your lip trying not to laugh. how could you confess that to him?

“are you asking me if i want you back?” he notices that you ignored his question, but he didn’t care.

“i know i do.” you looked at him for a few seconds too long, processing his answer.

“i thought you had a girlfriend?” you mumble and he shakes his head.

“we’re not together anymore.” finally, he moves slowly from the other end of the balcony toward you and you remain still. “i’ve always been yours.”

you look at him properly this time, you could see every detail of his face now with how close he was to you and you felt like the ten months you haven’t talked to him hadn’t passed at all.

“and i can understand if you moved on already, but i must tell you i haven’t, for me it has always been you.”

the reasons of why you had broken up all those months ago seemed so silly now. he wasn’t a bad guy, and you weren’t a bad person. your break up wasn’t ugly, both of you had just been too busy with your crazy schedules and you thought ending things would be for the best, but not a day had passed where you didn’t regret that decision.

max was everything, and he was here in front of you, asking for a second chance.

“and when i saw you tonight at your show and i just fell more in love if that’s even possible, and i thought of all the time we wasted and i…”

you touched his face with tenderness and cut him off with a kiss that was long due.

—

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 5.482.049 others

yourusername viva las vegas! 🏁 incredible crowd for and incredible night ⭐️

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user1 omg best day of my life 😭

user2 night 1 post we wonnn

user3 girl we see that emoji 👀

user4 we see max in the likes too 👀

user5 please don’t start this i couldn’t take it 😩

user6 max at the concert, she posted pictures and she sung imgonnagetyouback as a surprise song, las vegas n1 really won 😭

user7 MAX WAS AT THE CONCERT ???

liked by yourusername, schecoperez and 893.482 others

maxverstappen1 Brand new, full throttle… 🏎

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redbullracing congrats legend! 🏆

user8 the only time he smiled during this whole weekend 😭

user9 max is so me cause i also talked shit about this race only to lowkey enjoy it at the end

user10 not him using the lyrics of so high school 😭😭

user11 sir is there something we should know? 👀

yourusername who’s that grand prix winner? 😮‍💨

maxverstappen1 i love you ❤️

user12 WHAT SINCE WHEN

user13 chat is this real ???

user14 y/nstappen back together the earth is healing 🤍

liked by francisca.cgomez, maxverstappen1 and 7.482.949 others

yourusername where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me 💘

tagged maxverstappen1

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user15 EXCUSE ME MA’AM ???

user16 omg y/nstappen i used to pray for times like this‼️

user17 the alchemy mentioned we won !!!

user18 Y/NSTAPPEN NATION LET’S RISE

alexandrasaintmleux so happy to have you back in the paddock🫶🏽💞

yourusername girl i’m happy to be back😭

user19 the fact that he actually run over to her after winning the race ohhh i’m so normal about them 😩

user20 MAX VERSTAPPEN CAN YOU FIGHT?

maxverstappen1 could never fight the alchemy❤️

yourusername my maxxx ❤️

user21 pls they’re the cutest 😭

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #f1 x reader #f1 #formula one #formula one x reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #mv33 #mv1 #the tortured athletes department #i'mgonnagetyouback #i'm gonna get you back #max verstappen gif #i'mgonnagetyouback part 2 #part 2

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

view all comments

feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

#black reader #lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #poc reader #black female oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #black reader friendly #things lost and things found part two

[boundinparchment]

Essence

Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet. This wasn’t the first time today. In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning. You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you. Or: an accident with a questionable substance leads to a new experiment. Dottore/Female Reader. Accidental exposure to aphrodisiac; breeding kink towards the end, pwp. Available on AO3 here.

“Don’t move.”

You froze, acutely aware of the source of heat and muscle against your back as Dottore reached above you.  

This wasn’t a new occurrence; every once in a while, either Dottore himself or a Segment needed to get into the cabinets above your workstation.  Extra vial trays, pipettes, errant extra microscope slides, among other items.  Things you used for blood and chemical analysis.  You were used to the briefest moment of keeping your head down, front pressed against the edge of your workstation, and feeling Dottore’s heat against you.

Funny, you thought, when he always came across as indifferent to everything.  The Segments were a few degrees warmer, no doubt due to their components.  Their presence was akin to touching a hot pan out of the oven with nothing between your skin whereas Dottore, the prime origin point, was porcelain warmed by fresh tea.

Behind you, Dottore clicked his tongue against his teeth, and continued rooting around in the cabinet.

This wasn’t the first time today.

In fact, it was the third after an errant vial rolled from a top shelf and broke earlier that morning.  You and your samples remained uncontaminated only due to Dottore leaning forward and covering both of you.

You hadn’t caught a glimpse at the label but the contents hadn’t seemed harmful.  Dottore, although not melting, was far from pleased.  He barked to take better inventory of your workstation as your eyes traced the pink substance that soaked his hair, feathery mantle, and immaculate white coat.

He had since removed his formal trappings and appeared all the more graceful for it.  

A breath tickled your scalp as he placed his free hand on your waist, holding you still.

The touch sent jolts through you, as if you were standing in a field during a thunderstorm.  Dottore kept his hand there and you tried to keep your breath from hitching, his finger flexing occasionally.  Was he testing whether you were ticklish?

His breathing was unnaturally slow in return, pressing against you further with every inhale.

“What are you looking for, Lord Harbinger?” you asked, neck craned low.  

It was best to continue to work.  Before you were samples of primordial water.  The substance glistened in standing vials, each awaiting their next step.  

You felt him shift forward and your hips met his properly.  He had, quite effectively, sandwiched you between him and the counter.  A dull yearning sat low in your belly and you doubled your efforts on the samples in front of you.  

To say you did not find your supervisor attractive would be a lie; like most, you often wondered what lay beneath the bird-like mask, literally and metaphorically.  The lower half of his face was charming, home to a well-shaped jaw and a set of lips that were, at times, distracting.  The conversations held between you often led down other avenues.  It was clear to you that few, if any, would ever be a match for him in how he saw the world.

The thought that crossed your mind was bold: someone like him did not need a matching piece, an opposite to dilute him.  A mind like his needed the challenge of one who complemented his thought processes.  More like a fine wine pairing rather than a Hydro slime dousing a flaming flower.

When Dottore didn’t respond, his body tense against you and hand tight on your waist, you spoke up.  Was he ill?  

“Lord Harbinger?” 

You shifted in the hopes that your moving might break his thoughts.  Dottore inhaled sharply and pushed you forward again, chest and hips pressing against you further.  His other arm was still raised, as though he hadn’t quite finished in his search high above.

“I said: don’t move.”

The words were hissed against your ear and you felt the tip of his mask against your scalp.  His chest rose and fell in harsh, stilted motions and you swore you heard him mutter something into your hand when he squeezed your waist again.

Against your backside, you now realized why, precisely, he’d requested your stillness.  The dull pangs from earlier became aching throbs at the apex of your thighs.  You pushed away the thoughts, reminding yourself biological reactions were simply part of being human.  The position you were in was one many would envy.

“I cannot find the tincture that is usually kept here.  But the longer I stay, the worse this problem will be,” Dottore whispered into your ear.

His voice was always so alluring and now it was one of the only parts you could focus on.  Blood drained from your extremities, keen on flooding other parts of your body.

“What was in that vial, sir?”

“Cherubic sea hare venom and whopperflower nectar, stabilized by a single Agate gemstone, finely ground.  All batches of it were purged.  Or should have been.”

An interesting mixture, you mused, as Dottore’s raised arm came down and reached behind you.  You heard a telltale click and then watched as he rested the familiar mask off to the side, next to your tray.  When you went to turn your head and look over your shoulder, his now-free hand found your jaw and pulled your gaze back forward.  Through his gloves, his touch felt feverish, scalding.

“Eye contact will make it worse.  Do as I ask.”

His voice was tight, breathing ragged now, nose buried in your hair.  Archons, you’d had fleeting thoughts of him but this was torture.  Here he was, struggling against whatever he’d come into contact with while trying to work. All because of an accident that wouldn’t have occurred if you didn’t need to work exactly at this location.  Fate was a cruel mistress but this was sheer misfortune for both of you.

“Those substances are hardly volatile on their own, sir,” you offered.

He always enjoyed discussing ideas and he encouraged an environment conducive to it among your peers.  Distracting him might help.

You wanted to move your hips, as though friction would give you any kind of relief, but remained as still as possible.  He wasn’t giving you much of a choice and the longer you stayed still, the more aware you became of everything else.  You were acutely aware of your own wetness, your uniform pants already sticking to the apex of your thighs when you felt him twitch.  His presence was overwhelming on a good day when there were several feet between you.

“The whopperflower nectar is a good base for any mixture but tends to result in disorientation and temperature changes depending on its source,” he said into your hair, his other hand falling to grip your waist.  “Agate, of course, contains the power and passion of the pyro archon.”

His hands tightened, squeezing right at the junction of your hips.

“And the sea hare venom?”

This had to stop at some point, though, right?  None of those substances ever left behind permanent effects.  On their own, they were relatively harmless, but if synthesized together in the right dose, would…

Dottore nuzzled your hair and then worked his way down to your neck, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and the tender spot beneath your earlobe.  

“Enhances one’s awareness of their partner’s needs and changes in pheromones.  Along with an increased stamina.”

“Partner’s needs?”

Your heart pounded as it was but seemed to miss two beats at his wording.  He was already specific and precise.  Purposeful.

“This substance only works when the subjects already have an attraction to another individual, a pre-existing bias.  It is similar to tunnel vision, an obsessive focus on the other with decreased inhibitions.”

You gasped as he pressed against you further, his hardened member against the curve of your ass, situated perfectly.  Heat rose from your chest to your face as you finally put the pieces together and your own arousal caught up with you.

“And you, my dear, keep moving despite my warnings.  Are you eager or were you contaminated as well?”

You stiffened at the realization that, lost in the headiness of it all, you’d been bucking against him the entire conversation.  Your body had a mind of its own and your mouth ran dry.

“I—“

You knew you hadn’t gotten a drop on you.  Somehow that felt all the more shameful.  He needed help out of this situation and all you’d done was chase your own arousal, relished in the moment.  Even if he walked away now, he would still likely require relief and release.  Still be plagued with thoughts of you.  The way forward was obvious, wasn’t it?

“I want to help, my lord.  My mind is clear.  Would it not be beneficial to…see the experiment through?”

The tiniest bit of tension seemed to ease as he flexed his fingers.  Did he like that, you wondered, the way your skin sank beneath his fingers?

“The results might be promising.  But I must warn you…”

Before you could formulate your next thought, Dottore’s hips pinned you in place as he pushed away the objects in front of you with little care.  No sooner had the fleeting consideration for your samples crossed your mind, you felt open-mouthed kisses on your neck, hasty and hungry.  You arched your back and leaned into him, closing your eyes and tilting your neck to give him better access.  

“This will only be the first stage,” he whispered.  “And there is no going back.”

You did not trust your vocal cords as he found a particularly sensitive spot near your ear, stifling a moan and keeping it in your throat.  His hands remained flat against the surface of your work station, further pinning you, surrounding you.  Dottore lifted his head from the curve of your neck long enough to reach out and drag back a pencil and a nearby sheet of paper.

He managed to scribble something in shorthand that you recognized as observations of his symptoms and a basic outline. You had suggested he treat it like an experiment, after all.  

You felt his cock twitch again as his other hand freed itself from the surface to skim the edge of your uniform top.  A low growl rippled through his chest and he paused only to pull off his gloves; as soon as he was free, the pencil was in his hand again and he was grazing the pads of his fingers over your stomach.

Every touch felt as if you were being held above a fire, the flames licking and searing but never leaving a trace.  Your breath left your lips in short, staccato gasps and you shivered, relishing the soft jolts that ran through you.  

He squeezed your hip again on occasion and his fingers dipped beneath the edge of your pants, tracing the lines where your clothes left their mark.  The pressure behind you eased only enough for him to fit his hand between both of you and head lower, grabbing the soft flesh of your ass.  A low moan rumbled behind you as his fingers delved a little further, skimming your outer lips.  You were soaked, his touch gliding over you; you wriggled against him and felt his teeth skim your neck in warning.

“Eager indeed,” he whispered, breath hot against your ear.  “I could already smell it but this is a pleasant surprise.  Have you had thoughts of me, my dear?  Have you fantasized about this?”

Your cheeks burned and Dottore chuckled, his fingers prodding your hot, soaked core once more before withdrawing and cupping your ass again.  He obviously had, otherwise neither of you would be here in this predicament; after all, Dottore stated the substance only worked precisely because there was already a cognitive bias. 

You whimpered as his hand let go of your plush flesh and reached around, fingertip hovering over your swollen clit.  Dottore touched you just enough to cause a squeezing ache through you, your swollen walls demanding more.

“I have, Lord Harbinger,” you panted.

He made another notation as he withdrew his touch, the pencil snapping in his hand just as he finished the last flourish, the last of his restraint gone.  He cast aside the remnants with a flick of his wrist and tugged your pants down just past your hips.  Dottore didn’t bother to do more than unfasten his belt and free himself from the confines of his trousers, bare cock situated between your wet thighs.

The Harbinger pressed a hand to your back and pressed you forward, bending you over the surface, all the better to expose yourself to him.  He leaned over you, sheltering you, as he aligned the head of his member with your entrance, running his length across your lips.  A gasp left you at the sound of your slickness.  Whatever shame you had the decency to feel was gone, replaced with only a blinding need to be full, complete.

He sank into you slowly, his cock stretching your swollen walls with each shallow thrust, his hands fisted so tight his knuckles were bone-white.  You shuddered when he brushed past a particular spot every time, the edge already much closer than you expected.  An icy jolt ran through your core, walls clenching from the pressure of being pressed against the table.  Dottore hissed and his strokes grew long and full, nose buried in the crook of your neck as the sounds and scents of your coupling filled the air.  

At least this lab was more secluded but you long since lost control of any thoughts about being caught.  

“The timing could not have been better,” Dottore murmured, his pace increasing.  “How perfect.”

You meant to ask but he drove into you harder, the edge of the table pushing into your diaphragm, preventing you from speaking.  The impending bliss was already making you see stars and the lack of air was only enhancing the coil tightening deep inside.  You stifled your moans, although perhaps there was no point, as teeth grazed your ear and neck.  Hands reached for your hair, your waist, your hips as he continued to thrust, white hot heat searing across your vision as the pressure finally snapped.  Dottore groaned as you fluttered around his cock, squeezing and pulsing.  

His rhythm never changed through your aftershocks and he sent you over the edge twice more, legs quivering.  All thoughts of documenting his observations seemed gone now as he sank his teeth into the curve where your neck met your shoulder.  With a few quick snaps of his hips, Dottore shuddered atop you and you felt a shooting warmth, filling you to the brim and then some.

Dottore remained inside you, body covering yours.  His hands massaged your hips as he pulled away from your neck enough to press his lips to the open skin and lick away the blood.

“Decreased inhibitions indeed…” you muttered, tongue heavy.

You tried to shift, or at least stand straight slightly.  Your back was beginning to protest and between the man inside you and the table, catching your breath proved difficult.  Dottore chuckled as he ground his hips into yours, his cock still hard and buried deep inside you.

“We’re far from done, my dear.  Stage one is not over yet.  This substance can take days to wear off.  In that time, I’m certain I’ll obtain the results necessary to move right into stage two.  Taking you on your back might improve the timeline, though…”

Your stomach sank as you managed to turn your head and cast a look through your peripheral over your shoulder.  All you caught was a glimpse of a wide smile and glittering ruby eyes staring down at you.

“Oh, did I not mention that?  It’s quite convenient that your body is ready, based on your pheromones; I cannot stop until we’ve guaranteed success.”

#dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #il dottore #dottore #il dottore x female reader #dottore x female reader #x reader #x female reader #pwp #smut fic #tw: smut #cw: smut #smut #female reader #tw: breeding #cw: breeding #tw: aphrodisiac #cw: aphrodisiac #don't look at this too closely it needed to be out of my head

[ashersanity]

— “IT’S ALL IN THE FAMILY.”

— summary. because you — you stupid little fuck, should have known better than to assume the worst out of this sick family you’ve been unwillingly forced into from your parents unfaithful divorce. well, guess what? you were fucking right, and now — you only have yourself to blame, baby brother.

— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con at best, non-con at worst, brief mentions of bullying and violence, alcohol intoxication, manipulation, big brother whitney being a creep, whiny little sister kylar, daddy bailey being bailey, loser male reader, semi-forced blow job, cream pie, shit writing, no editing, no nothing and shittier plot with two disconnected scenes, went a little overboard with kylar. a little.

— word count? wait, you guys count the fucking words and don’t raw dog it in the notes app? like, real long, I guess. I mean, fucking long.

— asher’s note. “I did it purely for the sister fucking. @princesstokyomoon kept encouraging the filthy thoughts so I had to churn something out. something filthy — and I mean fucking disgusting shit, y’know?”

Divorces papers hastily signed away, the ink dotted onto the lines promising that this was indeed reality along with leathered suitcases packed to the brim. Family problems never were easy, much less when it had all happened far too quickly. To your parents separating, the familiar grip of your mother’s hand stringing you far away from the house you had grew up in, it all seemed like one bad dream. Unfortunately it wasn’t, no. This was the harsh reality of things, hands clasped on your shoulders as you were forced to introduce yourself to the man she had vowed to marry and the children he bore.

Fuck, if only your mother hadn’t remarried.

“This is stupid.” You muttered beneath your breath to which your mother, sharp as ever had somehow heard.

“Oh please, this is necessary. Unless you wish for us to keep on living in that cramped apartment? I am only doing what is needed for us to survive.” She sharply retorted back, not leaving much room to argue with as it was the truth. Your lives had been much more difficult since the divorce, selfish father that took everything else with him and went away to god-knows-where, probably off to spend it all in one go at the sleazy brothel in town. Filthy bitch.

Yes, it had been hard, but if you had been given one more year, finished school for real, graduated and got a job — Perhaps then, you would’ve been able to provide for the two of you and—

“Why don’t you introduce yourself, dear?”

Breaking out of your reverie, you had faintly registered then that you had arrived into this overly large establishment your mom referred to as your new home. Standing before you was probably the man she had fussed about so much during the uneventful drive. Dark, slicked back hair and stern eyes that dragged over your lips down to the curve of your throat, almost as if to criticize. His outstretched arm and hand stuck out waiting, that was probably for yours to shake which you reluctantly did.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir..?” You uttered coolly, enduring the firm grasp he had on your fingers till he finally was the first to pull away.

“Bailey.”

“Bailey.” You repeated back the unfamiliar name as if to slowly get used to it, knowing you wouldn’t.

“Whitney, Kylar, come down here and properly greet your brother.”

One boy — you assumed to be Whitney, a little older than you, stood at the top of the oaky staircase, perched over the banister. Ruffled blonde hair and sharp blue eyes hidden behind his fringe, eyeing you with disinterest as he made his way down the creaking steps and over to you.

“Nice to meet you.” He grinned, taking ahold of your hand in his with what was evidently a faux smile, one that didn’t quite reach his mean eyes that matched his father, a lingering streak of maliciousness in them. Even his grip, barely restrained in its force, threatened to crush your hand before ultimately letting go.

“You too.” Forcing a smile back, both of you knew then, the stifling tension that brewed in the air — Neither of you were going to get along here.

“Hey freak, its your turn.”

Another, you had barely noticed, a smaller girl scuffling about in the background, anxiously fiddling with the ends of her oversized sleeves, skittish green eyes purposefully avoiding your gaze whenever you so much as glanced her way. That must be the only daughter, Kylar. Cute thing she was, though your mind couldn’t allow yourself to continue that stray thought any further considering the implications that’d involve after meeting your soon-to-be-step-sister. Fucking get your mind straight, will you?

“P-Pleasure to meet you..” In contrast to her brother’s confident strides, she shuffled towards you before clasping your soft palms together in a hold, weakly shaking it.

“..Pleasure is all mine.” You replied, matching her weirdly formal way of speaking.

Well, she didn’t seem so bad compared to the rest.

The introduction didn’t last very long, lacking any real warmth usually found between two shared families merging together as one. It felt more stiff than anything though you couldn’t spare the thought to think it any further, an ushered murmur said to make yourself at home.

As you made your way over to your new room, hauling your hefty luggage up the wooden stairs, something within the depths of your guts stirred from the shared eyes that bore into the shape of your back, intently observing your every move.

The walls here felt unbearably bare.

Like the people that lived in it.

Ironically enough, your new room was much bigger than your older one, leaving little room to complain as you did when your mother had announced you’d be moving into a new place. All the reasons, no matter how good had earned nothing but a gentle shake of her head, dead set on her decision to drag you along. And to say you hadn’t even told Robin you’d be moving away, best friends since childhood that shared everything between the two, except for this apparently. Imagining his freckled face, worry etched across his features had you wanting to go back to the town you knew, knowing you couldn’t.

Sighing lowly, you sat down onto your bed, hearing the slightest crinkle beneath your weight as you felt an uncomfortable, sharp lump underneath it. That.. Reaching for the covers, you threw aside the thick blankets that covered the suspicious looking lump, revealing fresh packets of condoms haphazardly scattered across the sheets and an old, raunchy magazine displaying a cute-looking school boy getting brutally fucked against the lockers by his own bully.

Heat burned your face at the lewd sight, quickly shoving your little “gift” under your pillow so you couldn’t spare another glance at it. Fucking bastards and their sick jokes, “gifting” you shit like that.

You weren’t like them. Fucking perverts.

Were you?

Whitney was the first to change that.

From the first time he laid his eyes on you, you knew then what he thought of you, distaste apparent over his features, the slight curve of his upper lip curled into a snarl. It was obvious, your step-brother didn’t like you. Shit, maybe hate would be a more appropriate word for the things he’d do. Whitney had made it clear from the get-go, the empty names you’d call each other were utterly meaningless, rarely slipping past his own lips. ‘Little brother’. Fuck, you were a pain in his side more than anything else, dropping by unannounced into his life just like that simply because your shitty mother happened to divorce, meeting his dead beat father who then strung up with yours.

The blonde didn’t attempt to hide his obvious disapproval of your presence in his house, blatantly knocking his shoulder into yours whenever he passed by, mouth cruelly drawn into a snide grin as you toppled down to the cold, hard, wooden floor with a dull thud. The bullying didn’t stop there either, often encountering the delinquent in the school hallways, surrounded by his usual cronies that stuck to his side like a bunch of desperate, panting puppies, eager for his approval. They simply wouldn’t leave you alone, went through your damn locker too, ransacking everything that sat in there before carelessly throwing aside the remnants into a nearby trash bin, left to fend for yourself.

Weak, useless. That’s what you were to him, and nothing else. Soon enough, he’d get rid of you, have you snap and run away, it was merely a matter of time.

Well, that was the initial plan he had made up in his mind — Too fucking bad for the poor bully that life didn’t go always as planned, not when he caught you fresh out of the shower, worn towel snugly tucked around yours hips, a bit lower and he’d catch a glimpse of your— Fucking snap out of it, Whitney! The fresh droplets of water that’d trickle down the curve of your back, cascading over the smooth surface before gently dripping onto the fuzzy carpet below. Fuck. Didn’t help that he was staring a tad bit too hard, forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your bare form shamelessly displayed before him. You were doing this on purpose, weren’t you? Tryna get him all distracted, fill his thoughts with nothing but your thighs sticky with his cum, your lips lightly parted to obediently suck on his fat cock, lapping away at the beads of pre-cum that trickled over the curved length.

Knew he had cracked the second his hand had reached for his cock, fisting his dick for all it was worth, hem of his shirt roughly held between his teeth as he jerked himself stupid to the thought of you. His annoying little brother, fucking bitch, oblivious to the effects you had on him whenever he came with a stifled curse, several strings of cum that’d messily splatter across the curve of his toned stomach and his cotton sheets, staining it.

You, of course, lay ignorant to his frequent glances trailing over your frame, mistaking it for the hostility he had shown you over the past few weeks. You were partially right, except this time it was out of frustrated lust, cock stirring beneath his ripped jeans at the mere sight of his younger sibling now. God, not even the dumb whores that’d sloppily suck him off in the grimy bathroom stalls between classes did it for him anymore, eyes shut in a haze to imagine it was your mouth instead wrapped around the tip of his cock.

Dumb slut. Dumb fucking slut you were, didn’t know what he had in store for you. Take it as payback from having infested his mind with thoughts of you that stray to other thoughts and to other.. that’d eventually end in the same scenario, fucking your slutty mouth wide open.

Yeah.. Actually having you choke down on his cock didn’t sound half-bad now that he thought about it.

So why not make it happen?

It had been a mistake then to accept his offer over drinks, get to know each other better, he had cheerfully claimed with a friendly arm wrapped around your shoulder. Bullshit. Think he gave a shit about that? The only ache in his mind had gone straight down to his slowly hardening cock underneath his grey sweats as his plan was brought into motion, insistently pouring more and more of his friends stolen bottle into your cup until you had lost track of the exact number. Prideful as ever, you had gulped it all down, unrelenting despite the nausea that had crept in your guts and the dizzying blur of your vision.

A hint of a rosy flush had started to spread throughout your skin, lightly dusting your cheeks with half-lidded eyes intently gazing back at your older brother’s slouched form atop the cushioned couch. The dribbling liquid sloshed lazily in the glassy bottle that threatened to spill from your weakened grasp on it. TV faintly flickering in the background, playing some outdated show that had since long been forgotten by the two of you, leaving the remote abandoned on the coffee table.

“Cmon, don’t be such a baby.” Whitney would taunt whenever you hesitated in your sluggish movements, silently observing the rhythmic bobbing of your throat as you took quick shots from your half-full glass. Lightweight, he mused in his mind.

“I’m not a baby.” You retorted back with that fucking cute pouty expression he adored.

Fuck. That’s the look. That goddamn look of yours he was waiting for. Nothing better than some arrogant slut all fucked up, practically begging to be taken on his own fucking couch.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.”

“Whitney?” Shit, the way you’d call his name all whiny too, slipping past your own lips. Had his cock twitch like fucking hell, painfully aching between his spread legs.

“Hm? What is it?”

“Why are you so mean to me all the time?? What did I ever.. What did I ever do to you?? I—I just don’t get it.” You hiccuped pathetically, stumbling over your own words, already half-drunk from the fizzling alcohol in your system.

Ah, so you didn’t seem to get it at all yet, did you?

How cute.

“‘Cuz I wanna fuck your noisy mouth, that’s why.”

“..What?”

Blinking back at him, you didn’t even get the chance to register or mutter out another word before he was upon you. Knees firmly planted to each side, increasingly aware of his encompassing frame that towered overs yours as his clothed crotch faced your drunken expression. If it had been any other time, perhaps the blonde would’ve paused then to greedily drink in the sight before him, but this was Whitney after all and he never liked to waste time on silly notions like foreplay, preferring the rougher options that came along with it.

So, fuck it all, right?

With practiced ease, he hurriedly shucked down the elastic waistband of his grey sweats past his hips, hefty cock confidently springing free from the constricting confines of the cotton fabric as it lightly smacked against the curve of his bare stomach. Fuck, you haven’t had the slightest idea how long he had waited for this. Merely a matter of a few weeks for you, though for him, your older brother was dying to sink his dick in that whorish mouth of yours. Looked like you’ve never taken a real cock either, snugly shoved down to the hilt of your inexperienced throat that he’d train till it became a sixth sense to you, gratefully swallowing down his salty cum.

Calloused fingertips tenderly dragged along the swollen flesh of your bottom lip, bloodied cut reopening from the time the bully had split your face open on his fists for the whole school to see in the busied courtyard on a particularly rainy day. Licked his knuckles clean too after that rough beating you took, savouring the heady taste of the crimson mess you left behind, groaning all the while. Had him stupidly hard for the rest of the day, itching to relieve some tension once he got back home. Great times, really.

Now would’ve been the time then, probably— to sputter out your firm opposition over this, resist somewhat. Maybe kick the motherfucker in the balls, satisfyingly watch him writhe on the floor in agony before scrambling up the ancient staircase to hysterically yell about how you nearly got raped by your aforementioned step-brother, to your dozing mother. Christ, that would’ve been the sane decision to do then yet, the bubbling drinks coursing through your veins had thoroughly taken its effect on you, blood rushing down lower to the wrong region, the sinking realization nearly making you bolt upright.

Fucking fuck, you were hard.

And Whitney hadn’t failed to notice.

“Shit, are you getting hard from this?” The delinquent snickered hoarsely to himself, making a show to lightly tap at the growing bulge underneath your own jeans, all too visible despite the rough fabric that covered it. “Should’ve known you’d be into it. Your body speaks for itself, y’know. You want this, you cock whore craving slut.”

No, no. This was all wrong. Must’ve been. You liked girls, didn’t you? Squishy cunts and fat tits you could easily slip your cock into — god. Didn’t like guys and if you did, your step-brother who treated you like nothing but shit would’ve been last on the fucking list.

But you secretly do like being used this way, don’t you? Baby brother.

“I’m n-not fucking—“ Attempting to deny the harsh statement, you cut yourself off from the sudden intruding tip eagerly pressed against your lips, flushed cock head leaking thickly and smearing sticky pre-cum all over.

It wasn’t an order nor anything else that hung heavily in the air, a simple gesture, a subtle thrust of his hips that had his actions speak louder than any words would’ve been capable of. Either you do it or not, the delinquent couldn’t have cared less regardless, always used to getting what he wants and by god, if he wasn’t going to fucking get this. Because the signals alarmingly ringing through your head felt faint in the face of this, shakily inhaling the musky scent of your big brother’s throbbing cock subtly twitching in response to your feathered breaths against it, dribbling out more translucent pre-cum that melded with the scarlet stain of your bloodied lips.

Out of your damn mind — That’s what you were. To even properly consider the implication at hand here. Yet your lips won’t stop from parting, from sticking your pink tongue out, clumsily imitating the gestures of those submissive girls in the cheap porns you’d watch underneath your thin covers late at night, shamefully enough. Always thought you’d be on the receiving end of that one day, dutifully patting at the soft hair slotted between your thighs however here you were, shyly pawing at Whitney’s naked hips instead to steady yourself.

All your fault, all your damn fault so shut up and take it, alright? Shouldn’t have led him on like that, now you’re only reaping what you sow, slut.

A delighted sigh softly escaped from the blonde as you finally gave his dick some much needed attention, experimentally running the flat of your tongue along his leaking slit, coaxing out more dribbling fat globs of pre-cum before slowly and carefully taking his full girth in the warm depths of your tight, wet mouth. “Ah— Fuck. Yeah, that’s good.” No way can he hide the barely restrained, high-pitched, almost needy whimper that threatens to slither past him as you so prettily suck him down to the base, slobbering all over his throbbing balls that has him huffing out a cursed moan of satisfaction, eyes rolling back. “F-Fuckin’— god.” Can’t help the sheer guttural groan that slips out from how tightly his baby brother’s virgin lips sweetly glide around him, the uncertainty in your movements making it all the more endearing as you struggle to take him all in, saliva dripping over your chin to land in varying wet dots on the cushioned pillows. Looking so damn pretty like this with a mouthful of cock, your big brother’s pulsing cock specifically. So don’t blame him then when his hips automatically snap back, slender fingers instinctively reaching for the back of your head to entangle themselves through the soft strands of your hair, ruffling it.

Felt more like he was plainly fucking your mouth than you were sucking him off, sharp, punishing thrusts meeting your open mouthed lips to drive himself deeper in that warm throat that reflexively tightened around his length whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot — drawing another string of adorable, strangled whimpers from you. “Shit, you sure this your first time? You’ve got the mouth of a — hah, fuckin’ filthy glory hole.” Heat prickling up the nape of your neck at the direct statement uttered, the brief realization of your inexperience being taken away like this, from a blowjob. On the giving end. A first, that will mostly likely not be the only first after this, not when you’re unconsciously getting off to the thought for more in store despite your haze filled brain begging you to reason. Ah, fuck. He’s gone and got you stupidly cock drunk now, didn’t he? The bastard. Slurred mutterings tumbling out above you, almost hasty in how he handles you, wanting to truly savor this never-ending moment when his body can’t stop on its own, too eager to be fulfilled of this yearning pleasure he sought out from you firstly. Thankful for your lack of gag reflex that somehow has you forcefully endure the ruthless slam of his hips, struggling grip straining onto his thighs to brace yourself, promising to leave a fresh set of bruising marks on the tanned flesh.

“Gon’ be my lil’ cockwhore, huh? My fuckin’ slut. Goin’ to be so good for— fuck, big brother, yeah?” If treating you so obscenely like this grants him the privilege to have you beneath him, so stupidly on your knees then, fuck, is it goddamn worth it. Every multicoloured bruise splotched along the length of your legs to your elbows, inflicted from his unfortunate beatings took on at every turn. The cold indifference muddled across your features warping to an earnest scowl from simply acknowledging his presence alone, precisely what he wants. To finally recognize your older brother, the churning fear instilling within you, forced to submit to him and worship him rightfully so.

It’ll be more than that though, the sick realization dawning upon him of this opportunity handed to him on a silver plater, free of his taking, of course. Not some other replaceable slut he can find anywhere else by chance, but one forcefully bound to him whether they like it or not since what can you possibly do? Come running with tears in your eyes to your mommy about what your big, mean, older brother did to you? His father will certainly not be one to help you for that matter, that’s for damn sure. Who the hell will believe you then? No one. Fucking nobody. Inadvertently handing him free range to do whatever he so pleases with you, whenever, where the fuck ever. Oh, but it won’t only stop there, y’know. Ruining you fully for the sake of his own selfish pleasure, corrupt that naive view of yours that has you blush bashfully at a bunch of lewd illustrations plastered onto the printed pages. Soon enough, the majority of your days will be lazily spent in his room, leaking cock dribbling profusely from the kitten licks you’ll so cutely give him then while he absentmindedly scrolls on his phone, grinning proudly as you inevitably beg for more of him. And shit, Whitney isn’t one to disappoint either — he’ll have you rightfully rewarded for such behaviour, in public to be exact. Clip a nice, leathered collar around your neck along with a leash too, tug at it a bit to show off his newfound pet, his loyal little brother that sloppily sucks him off and happily sinks onto his hefty cock at a mere snap of his fingers. Drives him fuckin’ crazy merely thinking about it.

That’s right, suck on your big brother’s fat cock to selfishly earn his twisted love, his blind adoration and protection of your being. His pet. His slut. His beloved baby brother. His now blood, flesh and soul tainted thoroughly by him himself. Personally service him on your knees like the whore that he knows you are. Fucking get on your knees and earn it.

All too soon, despite wanting to stretch this further solely to ingrain the addictive noises of your stifled whimpers and drooling mouth inside his perverted mind, visibly struggling to take him all in as he shamelessly used your throat like some sort of flesh light stretched to the hilt — He can feel himself reach the brink of his limit, confident hips stuttering in their steady thrusts to greedily bury the tip of his quivering cock into the back of your throat one last time. “F-Fuck. Stay like that — just fucking stay like that.” He hissed sharply between strained curses, head thrown back like some cheap virgin whore who’s just received his first ever mind blowing blow job. The familiar overwhelming heat curling in the curve of his belly, like a coiling string on the verge of popping. Balls tightening in need, pulsing spurts of his fat load squirting out of the head of his cock to messily splatter across the surface of your pretty fucking face, ruining you for his own amusement.

Should’ve busted his load down your throat just to hungrily watch you swallow it down, though he supposes that the cum stained look adorning your pretty face is a sight to behold on its own, taking a good minute to appreciate the mess before him.

A blank, pristine canvas that he had helped ruin and stain with the filth of his very own actions.

It suits you, really.

“That’s a — hah, good boy.” Whitney heaved roughly between ragged breaths, the uncharacteristically gentle praise laced in his tone differing from his usually sadistic nature. If it weren’t for the sticky mess that obscured your vision along with the heat of his sweating palm placed flat across your forehead, you’d notice the strange fond, warmth that had settled into his softening gaze, a sort of reverence in of itself. “My good fucking boy.”

“So good for big brother, aren’t you?” He smirks knowingly at your hitched gasps of breaths, struggling so stupidly to form back a snarky insult as per usual.

Ah, he gets it now — really fucking gets it, glazed over eyes settling onto your evidently hard, twitching cock still tented pitifully against the front of your jeans, frantically humping at the air like some sort of rabid, horny and untrained puppy in heat, tongue lolling out. Aw, so fuckin’ cute when you’re cock drunk and needy for big brother. Makes him wanna do it all over again.

For that, he should be properly training you then.

“Whitney— fuckin’ cmon, please.” Whining so pathetically in a way that sends a jolt straight down through his spent cock, immediately standing up to attention once more. You’re really asking for it, fuck.

So damn cute, but so impatient too. Maybe he should fuck your virgin ass next, stuff it full of his cum and see what happens to that bratty mouth of yours then. Shut you up a bit.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Just— keep still for me.”

Well, can’t be having his little new pet go frustratingly neglected like that, can he?

—

Kylar, your precious little sister, all too eager to be the first, but the second to sink her mark into you. Convince you a bit more.

Needy as she was, she wasn’t as bad as the rest that inhabited this sick place you reluctantly called home, a flicker of warmth among the distant coldness that resided in this house. Much unlike her brother, the dark haired girl didn’t seem to dislike you in the slightest, often shooting you the smallest of smiles whenever you two briefly locked eyes at the dinner table or in the shared hallways by mere coincidence.

‘Course, she did have her questionable moments whenever you caught her rifling through your drawers, namely the ones where your underwear lay neatly folded in the cubicle space. Promptly muttering out an unbelievable excuse as to why she needed your boxers before bolting past your stunned self, red in the face. Or that time she had decided to curl up onto your bed, lovingly burying her nose into the warm, silken sheets that you slept in, relishing in that sweet scent of yours she’d catch a whiff of as you drew closer next to her at the table.

..Yeah, she certainly had unresolved issues, but it beat the constant poking fun at that Whitney would do. The rough shoving into the metallic lockers that’d clank heavily from your weight, the shared snickering that came along with it and the forced blow jobs that you had somehow eased into over time despite yourself. Fuck, why were you even thinking of that asshole?

Freak or not, she didn’t harbour any of the senseless cruelty this town had to selflessly offer and that was good enough. Enough so that you had found yourself increasingly spending more and more of your time with Kylar whenever you weren’t forcibly dragged along to some shoddy place your big brother roped you into, leaving the loner to her own whims for the day.

So it was no surprise then when the two of you grew closer, a little more than you had expected so to be the one sat onto her worn out bed, her hideaway — she’d call it, a moment of respite from the constant teasing she had to go through from her older brother. A means of escape, perhaps? And for you, it was no different either, all the same. Gladly listening to her overexcited rambling about this and that, about the fine mangas she had newly bought at the local, dusty library, the half priced anime figurines she had found on display beyond the glassy windows that separated them — matching pearly bracelets made of shiny gems and rocks carefully picked at the park she’d sow together to gleefully tuck around your wrist, whining sorrowfully at her own being too loose for her delicate wrists. Cute. Your little sister was real fucking cute, more so than you’d like to admit at times.

So much so you couldn’t ignore the growing knots in the pit of your stomach whenever your knees fortuitously bumped against each other, a sign — a silent, repetitive warning of your shared proximity that was crossing past the treacherous line of two mere siblings. Yeah. Okay. So you found her cute, so what? Big fucking deal. Plenty of guys found a girl cute, didn’t mean jack shit, didn’t mean they wanted to fuck her till she clenched pathetically around them, sniffling miserably at being fucked brutally by their kind, soft-spoken big brother they naively put their trust into. Right, that’s what you were. Nothing more. A responsible big brother she could certainly put her faith into since her other piece of shit brother couldn’t bother with that shitty role, something you’d curse him for on the daily. One she could seek out at a moment’s notice, spend time with to her heart’s content like a normal, unsuspecting relationship between siblings should be.

Not some perverted creep of a big brother who’d steal periodic glances her way, instinctively trailing down to the soft, plump and pink flesh of her parted lips, glistening sinfully from the wetness of her saliva — a habit she unconsciously did despite claiming not to. Gulping thickly, you hadn’t registered how her seamless chatter had ceased to a stop, deafening silence befalling upon the both of you as you stared at each other like some sort of stiff actors awaiting for the next act on stage. Wait, were you staring? Fuck, you were — and she hadn’t failed to notice by the looks of it, blooming flush adorning her pretty, pale cheeks you’d like to press gentle, reassuring kisses to, squeeze under the weight of your palm. Maybe have her spill a few stray droplets of tears across the rosy surface while you’re at it, make her cry the same way Whitney did.

Oh, you’re such a fucking bastard for this one.

“W-What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Her sudden squeak had you stilling in your tracks, twisting the spread sheets without meaning to from the timid pitch of her shrill voice. Look at her, trying to hide behind her torn sleeves in an attempt to draw attention away from her bashful blush, becoming a fidgeting mess under your gaze.

Fuck, no. It was more than that, Kylar. It was the pout of your lips that you wore, the black strands of hair that frames your face so beautifully, the exposed sliver of skin of your thighs from that short skirt you slipped on. It was all you, but dammit all — fuck.

“Hm? No, it’s nothing — really.” Liar. Drawing back to create a manageable amount of space between you both, a reminder not to act upon those disgusting urges of yours, better not to. Bad idea to be thinking with your dick, no man’s ever made a reliable decision with that one. Even so, Whitney did it with you and — nothing particularly bad happened, did it? Would it be so wrong, if you were to do the same? Selfishly grasp for what you so dangerously desire, drop meaningless hints here and there to care for her wants, such a gentler option than any other boy could ever treat your dearest little sister?

Would it?

Too lost in your endless train of thoughts, your eyes connecting with Kylar’s green own that bore with such intensity you hadn’t seen before, almost as if contemplating — no, waiting for something to happen. Though you couldn’t tell what it was, her actions were enough so to speak on their own with how she shifted considerably towards you, used mattress dipping from the creaking weight over the wooden floorboards. Ah, was she..?

“Ky—?”

Before your mind was even fully given the chance to process it, like the leap taken before the shuddering dip of a waterfall, her inexperienced, virgin lips clumsily smashed into yours, knocking the wind out of the both of you from the abrupt step taken by your little sister. Sweet. So sweet. Pink tongue tentatively swiping along the scarlet cut of your bottom lip, ushered gasps accompanied by startled squeaks as she timidly gave you what she thought was a simple kiss, but felt more like a pornographic make out session with how she so desperately shoved her tongue deeper. More. Wants more of this, more of that honeyed taste she yearned to savour, to finally enjoy while her other dumb brother so greedily took you away every time she wished to be the one at your side instead. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all! He’s so mean, so why does he get to string you along whenever he so pleases? Should be her, only be her to fill that solemn space. Only her, only her—

“W-Wait, wait— Kyl— fuck.”

As if struck by the weight of what she had just done, the loner recoiled back instantly in a fit of panic from the sheer brashness of her actions. Oh, how could she let herself so easily fall to such temptations? What if you hated her now? Or worse, were repulsed by the kiss? Wouldn’t be able to live it down then, quivering lips and bubbling tears threatening to spill freely down the length of her flushing cheeks from her overactive imagination running rampant — because she’d rather die than to have you loathe her so.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to— umm.. I thought that maybe you.. wanted me to—“ The girl stuttered uselessly, trailing off in an aimless direction only to shrink back in her unbecoming position. Silence only answered her in return which she took as the harsh reality of rejection, mustering up all the courage she possibly had in her lithe frame to at the very least subtly peek at the current expression painted along your face. Would it be anger? Disgust? Disappointment even? Surely if you hated it that much, you’d have plainly kicked her right off the bed by now, right? Storm out in a fit of shock and never so much as glance her way again.

The sight to greet her instead wasn’t an unwelcome one though — no, far from it actually, her gaze deliberately falling upon the blazing flush of your face down to the evident bulge straining painfully between your legs, palm nervously placed over it in a half-assed attempt to keep your dignity at bay — shit. It’s one thing to be kissed by your younger sister but to get fucking hard from it is like shameful admission on its own, a visceral reaction that could not be denied no matter what reasonable excuses may tumble from your lips. “..It’s fine. I don’t mind, actually.” You’re really no better than Whitney in that aspect, but when an opportunity presents itself, it’s only fair to mindlessly grasp for it, is it not? More worrying is the debauched idea that forms in your mind in regard to the enamoured expression worn by her wobbly lips and wide-eyed look, not-so-subtly rubbing her plush thighs together in a hint of arousal. Oh, so that’s how it is. If the sloppy kiss itself didn’t confirm it then this surely did, a surge of confidence rushing momentarily through your body at your next actions. “Like I said, it’s fine, Ky.” That fucking nickname again. Unable to stop yourself from dragging your cute little sister closer towards you till she consequently found herself comfortably placed onto your lap, blinking stupidly at the bold move done by her normally gloomy, big brother. Silly girl.

“Siblings do it all the time, it’s not weird. It’s natural.” Lying through your goddamn teeth with a certain ease that even surprises you internally, but oh, is it so worth it as her viridescent eyes glimmer brightly to the whispered reassurance in your casual tone, acceptance easily slipping through. “But Whitney and I don’t—“ She starts, only for you to immediately latch onto her endless questioning with the seed having already been planted, too late to fucking back out now. “You and I are different. I’m nice to you and you’re nice to me, so it’s normal if you want to. We can do that cuz’ everyone else does it, alright? You don’t have to be shy with me about it, Ky.” Every carefully measured word to make it seem as though this was the norm, knowing fully you’d be seen as freaks and degenerates by your peers attending the nearby school. Not that they didn’t already think so with Kylar, the rumors having grown out to such an unhealthy proportion that it pestered the poor girl at every corner in the narrow hallways. Poor thing.

So isn’t it your job as her big brother to make it all go away? Make her feel better.

“Shh, just let me..” Soothing circles rhythmically rubbed in a recognizable pattern along the edges of her skirt, repeated affirmations of want so as to ease her chattering mind over the possible morality of this newfound situation. Could’ve said no if she didn’t secretly desire this, though her actions seem to say so otherwise with how she earnestly complies, willingly tucking her arms to her sides to let your hands do the rest. Good girl. So docile, like a porcelain doll, sharpening breaths noticeably deepening from the careful tugs of her short skirt, revealing the confirmation of her depraved wants as the wet patch of slick soaking through her plain, white panties is bared. Your adorable little sister isn’t so innocent as you thought, is she? Contrary to her modest choice of underwear. Getting fucking wet solely from being leered at so openly by her step brother, even going so far as to spread her soft legs for better viewing.

“See? Isn’t it frustrating to be left all worked up like this?” Agreeing nods promptly interrupted by the press of your thumb against her clothed slit, such a sweet, hitched gasp elicited from the lazy circles traced onto her swollen, twitching clit. A free view of your younger sister’s scrunched up expression morphing to one of pure, unadulterated pleasure, scarred fingertips tightly clutching at the fabric of your shirt, but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment, really. “This good?” There’s no real need to ask when you can naturally rely on the shivering of her dainty figure, breathy moans of y-yes and feels good! along with the guiding of her needy fingers, flush against her slicked heat. A flick of your thumb is all it takes to have her turn into a babbling mess, bucking her hips up to meet your cupped palm, incidentally grinding onto your aching hard-on. “S-Shit, okay. Look at you, hah — so fucking wet already.” Barely able to discern the own pitch of your voice, but who the fuck is supposed to properly maintain their composure when your little sister is so prettily begging for your cock?

Effortlessly peeling away at the sticky fabric of her cotton panties, slipping it down the length of her legs to thoughtlessly throw away onto the wooden floor beneath. No time to fucking think, not with how cute her cunt looks, pink and dripping with slick coating the smooth surface of her inner thighs. Ah, and she’s already impatiently fumbling with your belt too, smiling so happily once it loosens to eventually tug your own underwear down too, leaking cock eagerly springing free from its restraints. “Want it that bad, lil sis?” Fuck, does it feel wrong to even be calling her so in your current predicament, yet so damn right too. The pleading nods, urgently clinging to your frame to press against as she grinds her sopping cunt along your flushed tip, whining whenever it knocks just right up against her puffy clit, squelching from the melding fluids. “W-Want it, want it inside, please.”

“B-Big brother—“

As much as you like the high-pitched mumblings of your dearest Kylar, there’s really only so much edging you can take before promptly snapping your hips up in tandem with her own, relishing in the slippery warmth that lovingly welcomes you, stretched folds accommodating to the sheer girth of your length. “Oh, fuck — Fuck, just relax for me. You feel so.. hah, so good.” Collectively sighing in relief at the intrusion of your pulsing cock squeezed so nicely by her constricting walls, having to steel yourself from the tight suck of her cunt snugly wrapped around your tip. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well.” Softly hushing her breathy whines intertwined with a mix of pain and pleasure, fingertips digging harshly in the tender flesh of her hips to guide her quivering frame up and down the length of your cock. Isn’t this what she wanted after all? Such a quick learner too, steadily bouncing to match the pace you had set, your wandering hands slipping past the hem of her loose shirt to greedily palm at her perky breasts which prompts another moan to exit her parted lips. Uncaring for the increasingly noticeable squeaking of the worn mattress when your little sis is so cutely riding you, doing her very best to satisfy your immoral urges and have you mark her slicked insides with your seed.

“What a good sister.. So good, aren’t you?” Cute, pink tongue poking out, begging for another messy kiss pressed onto her swollen lips which you dutifully oblige with another muffled groan. Sloppily planting your own against hers, treasuring every shuddered gasp to swallow down and stifling her open mewls. It’s borderline disgusting how desperate you are, savouring every thick inch engulfed by the sloppy suck of her baby sister pussy, reappearing briefly only to bury yourself balls deep once more into her defiled cunt. Isn’t really your fault with how fucking tight she is, is it? Barely grasping the reality of the situation which is the very high possibility of being heard from outside her room right this moment, but fuck — you can’t slow down, not right now, not when you’re already on the verge of spilling your cum deep inside. Damn Whitney, the bastard. Damn to hell your parents, your indecisive mother and her new husband, this is heaven itself right here. “I’m close—“ You huff out in a sort of warning, though it’s more of an invitation to Kylar, an opportunity for you to shoot your thick seed in her wanting hole, practically locking her legs tight around your waist.

Anything for you after all, huh? Her beloved. Her darling. You just didn’t know it yet! And to say it came true on its own, openly enjoying the sensation of your fat cock instinctively fucking into her tight, little sister hole. So close.

“Cum inside me, please. Let’s finish together, big brother. I-I’m close too—“

And that’s all you really need, precise thrusts upwards hastily turning into erratic humps to lazily grind against her ass, wanting nothing more but to see the dumb, drooling, fucked out expression painted across her adorable face, the convulsing of her cunt stuffed full of your length when she does have her first ever orgasm. A few clumsy circles drawn over her used clit is all it takes to have her cumming, slick trickling out of her fluttering cunt to drip over the base of your cock and stain the pristine sheets beneath. “Ah— God, you’re so fucking tight.” Fuck, fuck, fuck — Shoving the hilt of your cock as deep as possible into your little sister’s stretched out hole to rightfully mark her pink insides with your seed, spurting out thick, white strings of cum while you fuck yourself deeper into her womb and downright have her experience her first ever accidental cream pie too. It’s only then when she pitifully whines for you to stop that you do eventually pause, hips drawing back to stare in awe at the dribbling globs of cum spilling out of her sore cunt. “S-Sorry.” You mutter out apologetically with a sigh, the tension easing out of your muscles once she giggles softly in response to your strained apology. “It’s okay. I-I liked it a lot too.”

“Did you?”

“Mhm, I did.” Kylar sleepily mumbles back with drowsy eyelids, the exhaustion washing both over you all at once from, well.. all the movement involved. Let’s leave it at that, actually. Plus you deserve the rest, don’t you? Wouldn’t be fair to leave your adorable sister all alone in her twin bed without her older brother’s body to warm it with too, yeah? It’s fine to lay yourself down next to her curled figure snuggling closely against yours, drape an arm over her waist to remind her of your presence close by, make her feel secure and at ease. A silent, ushered promise to clean her up later once you two awaken, affectionately pressing a single kiss atop her head one last time before sleep takes her first. It’s your role to as the big brother, after all, isn’t it?

“..Good.”

#fuck #..fucking never. ever. writing this much within the span of a few days. ever. #FUCK SCENES WERE NASTY!!!! FUUUCKKK!! #I’m not beating the siscon allegations with this one #off to blow my brains out now #dol #degrees of lewdity #ITS ALL IN THE FAMILY. #whitney the bully #kylar the loner #bailey the caretaker #robin the orphan #big brother whitney #little sister kylar #daddy bailey #bottom male reader #top male reader #x male reader #character x male reader #asher writes

[kkkimagine]

YOU OWE ME SOMETHING - AEMOND TARGARYEN X READER.WIFE.VELARYON.

Summary: when your husband arrives late at night soaked and silent, you ask him to tell you what happened. Upon hearing his story, your marriage breaks up and you no longer want to know anything about him.

words count: 2.455

Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, blood, abortion, mentions of knives, threats, my first language is not English so I'm very sorry if there are any grammatical errors, if you see any please let me know.

well, I didn't like this so much, I think I could have made it longer and better but here you go, I hope you like it (as much as I like this one-eyed guy down here, although Lucerys' death hurt me so here I take it out on him hahahaha )

You heard the door ring, while you continued delicately embroidering a dragon on your hoop, it was a little late and it was still raining outside your window while you were waiting for your husband to arrive, he had brought a message, you didn't know who of course, you weren't told much about what was happening lately, and of course you couldn't leave your room either, at first you were afraid, and you only thought of quick ways to escape or die, not wanting to suffer too much or be a weakness for some side in the event of a war, not wanting to be a weakness for your mother and your family, no one told you anything but you weren't stupid either, King Viserys was dead, you were sure.

- Why do you stay at the door, my prince? - you asked without looking up, but when you didn't receive an answer you looked ahead, looking at your husband, who was standing in the door frame soaked, looking at the floor, almost as if he was afraid to look at you - oh Aemond, you're soaked, you'll get sick, love...

You quickly got up from the chair you were in, well, fast enough that your pregnant belly allowed it, already big enough to bother your back when walking just a few steps, you grabbed a skin that you had on the bed while You put her on his shoulders, caressed his arms a little while trying to look up at his one eye, but he still refused to look directly at you.

- You should be sleeping, dear wife, it's late - he told you, his voice was so low that you thought you had never heard Aemond speak with so much... Regret? - Sleeping poorly cannot be good for the baby.

- What happened Aemond? Why do you come like this? - you took his cold face in your hands, making him finally look you in the eyes, and when he did you hesitated a little, his only eye looked at you with a thousand apologies, you were afraid to ask what had happened - what happened there Aemond?

He was silent for a few moments, wondering what he should do, hiding the truth from you wouldn't be good, you would find out sooner or later, if you came in through someone else it would be much worse, and he didn't want to deceive you, you were his wife and you trusted him, he had to explain the truth to you, even if he was afraid.

- I didn't have control, Vhagar didn't listen to me anymore - he tried to explain while his voice trembled, you had never heard him like that, his voice wasn't strong and confident like always, he seemed like another person - I tried to make him obey me but He had simply started doing what he wanted...

You held his face tightly again, so that he knew that you heard and understood them, although for some reason you felt more and more afraid of knowing what had made him this way, you were afraid of knowing what had happened.

- I didn't want that to happen, that wasn't what I wanted, Y/n, I swear on my life, I swear on my love for you - he began to speak desperately, holding your hand tightly this time - I wanted justice, I just wanted him to feel what I felt, nothing more.

- Who are you talking about, Aemond? What do you want to tell me? Who is it? - You started to get scared, you had rarely heard the word revenge from your husband's mouth, but that revenge always referred to the same person, he didn't answer you and out of nerves you screamed - Who are you referring to? What happened out there, Aemond?

He lowered his gaze to the ground again as he began to delicately explain.

- when I went to leave the message for Lord Borros, another dragon arrived - you listened with fear, you didn't want to imagine anything but everything seemed to point towards a misfortune - I asked him, I asked him to do it himself, I just wanted him to lose what I also lost.

- Who are you referring to? -

- my mind disconnected, we both rode our dragons, I chased him, my mind disconnected, I only thought that they should pay for what they did to me - You started to cry and squeeze his hand tightly.

- Who are you talking about, Aemond? -

- and Vaghar stopped listening to me, he stopped doing what I wanted, that was not what I was trying to do, you should know, everything happened so fast that I couldn't do anything - you let go of his hand as you took a few steps away and screamed loudly, placing one of your hands on your belly that was starting to hurt.

- What happened, Aemond, what did you do? I'm demanding that you tell me who you're talking about -

- Lucerys Velaryon is... He's dead, love, I'm so sorry -

Your eyes opened in horror and you felt your throat burning, you felt the burning run from your throat to your belly and the pain became more and more unbearable.

- what did you say? - You wanted to believe that your ears were deceiving you, but Aemond's look left no room for doubt - I asked you, What the hell did you say?

- He wasn't supposed to die... - He took a step towards you and you didn't even move, you looked at him with eyes full of disgust and loathing - I'm sorry, lov...

Then your sobbing interrupted him, you couldn't stand the pain that coursed through you any longer and you knelt on the ground, both hands on your belly that was throbbing with pain, until you heard Aemond's footsteps and looked at him from the ground with red eyes and crazy, while he also knelt in front of you, although a few steps away

- You killed my brother, my little brother... - you cried while Aemond tried to take your hand in his, but you moved further away, pointing towards him accusingly - you promised me, you promised mercy, you said you would never murder to someone I loved but look what you've done.

- I explained to you that that was not what I wanted, you have to...

- But you interrupted him again, there was no longer a trace of gentleness or understanding in your voice.

- And what does it matter what you wanted or not? Hmm! - you asked aggressively, then you moaned again because of the pain in your stomach - you know what I think, husband? I think you are a liar, deep down this was all you wanted, the death of the person who took out your eye and with it your pride, tell me, did your eye magically return to you?

He saw you as if you were a completely different person, and you were sure that you were completely different now, you couldn't be the same after hearing what he had done to your younger brother, you quickly looked down at his belt and noticed the dagger that was there, you quickly took it and since he was so distracted he couldn't stop you from taking it in your hands.

- If you wanted an eye from the Velaryon family so much, why didn't you tear it from me? - the scream echoed through all the walls of the room while you cried even more, pointing the dagger towards your eye - why didn't you take my life before Luke's?

- Don't say that, love, put the dagger down, okay? - he whispered with fear, you had never seen him like that, and he had never seen you like that - I didn't want to kill that bastard...

The nickname "bastard" left his lips almost unconsciously, and he instantly regretted having said it, you began to get up with difficulty, the treatment was to help you but you pointed the dagger at him.

- If you touch me, I will cut your hand off - you looked at him with rage merging with the tears in your eyes - and then you can chase me, mock me and torment me until my death, you can live obsessed with one more revenge that will not grant you more than hate.

When you finally got up you felt the pain so strong that it made you even hunch over but you ignored it to see your husband on the floor again.

- If you call those children bastards you will also say it for me, how dare you insult my brothers even after having murdered one of them? With what right do you speak about my family? -

- Don't hate me, Y/n, that shouldn't happen - he got up from the ground too, with much more ease than you - but your brother owed me something, and you can't deny that, let's not distance ourselves over this matter, I'll tell you I said how sorry I am.

- Didn't you say the same night you lost your eye that that sacrifice for a dragon was worth it? You were so obsessed that you ended up without an eye for claiming a dragon that didn't even belong to you, and it happened to you again, Aemond, you became so obsessed with that damn revenge that you sacrificed a happy life with your wife for her - you began to slowly approach the door, trying not to let Aemond notice - because this I swear to you Aemond, I will die before I love you again, I will stick this dagger into my heart tonight if it means I don't have to pretend to love you again for the rest of my life. You pointed the dagger at your heart this time, he was worried but froze when he heard what you said next.

- or I will stick the dagger into my belly and kill the baby, just to make sure that I will have nothing more to bind me to you in this miserable life - this time you pointed the dagger at your belly, he looked at you as if you were crazy - because I assure you that I will never allow you to touch me again, Aemond.

And with that you opened the door and ran out of the room, Aemond watched the guards move quickly and shouted at them.

- Don't you dare touch her - then he looked at the ground and noticed the blood that left a path behind you - Y/n, the baby.

You ran, thinking quickly, you had to look for your dragon and leave here, you had to go to dragonstone to return to your family, you couldn't stay in this place, not next to the people who only wanted to kill your family for revenge and power.

You saw the stairs leading to the main courtyard and began to run harder towards them, and even faster when you heard Aemond's quick footsteps behind you and his cries of your name. When you reached the first step of the stairs you felt your feet get tangled together with your long nightgown, the dagger fell from your hands while you felt your skin being crushed against the hard steps, your head hit the ground hard while your belly hurt more than ever, your eyes began to close.

- Y/n -

you heard Aemond scream before you fell into the darkness of your faint.

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

When you woke up you were in your bed, in the room you shared with Aemond, he was sitting in a chair sleeping, you tried to get up but even that simple noise woke him up.

- Don't move, my wife, you are very weak - he looked at you sadly and you simply looked away from him, you couldn't forget what he had done, and you didn't even want to see him - the baby.... The baby died Y/n.

You wanted to feel sad, but you didn't, on the contrary, you felt relieved to not be carrying Aemond's child in your womb, and that idea only made you feel like a monster, the baby you had once loved so much now felt like a hindrance, something that your worst enemy had left you and that you had managed to get rid of.

- He was a beautiful boy - he whispered when he got closer to you, now you saw him with hatred in your eyes.

- I don't want to listen to anything you say to me, Aemond, I don't want you to talk to me - he felt hurt again, he had hoped that this whole fight had passed, he didn't want to be like this with you but you no longer care what he wanted or not.

- My mother is very sad, she will surely come to visit later - you rolled your eyes and looked at the ceiling of the room.

What did Aemond expect from you? The love you felt for him was slowly poisoned until it became the purest hatred.

- I don't care about your mother, she is a traitor and a liar, I don't care about your drunk and debauched brother, nor your sister either, too naive for this world, I don't care about you, Aemond, murderer, you are full of blood and now You don't mean anything to me - Aemond's heart broke when he heard your poisonous words, he never imagined that you would say something like that to him.

- Your brother owed me something, Y/n, don't judge me after seeing everything he took from me -

- my brother took one of your eyes, you took both of his eyes, since they are of no use to him now, in fact, you took away his entire body, you stole the life of his dragon and him too - you began to list, your voice was lacking of emotions - now it seems to me that you owe him something, but since he is not here to exact his revenge, I will take that role for myself.

He opened his eyes tiredly as he sat back down in his chair, you turned to him and he could swear he saw fire glow in your eyes.

- I will escape from this place, Aemond, I will go far away from here and I will wait for the perfect moment to exact my revenge - the both of you looked into each other's eyes and couldn't believe how much everything changed in a single night - because now you owe me something.

#aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Truth of fallen god

Self-Aware! Chuuya Nakahara x GN! Reader

Description: Howard Philips Lovecraft is driving people mad. Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald is destroying economy. Chuuya Nakahara is talking with a dying god.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Mentions of cannibalism. Some swearing. Chuuya destroyed Chasm off screen. Chuuya cuddles in the end.

____________

"Teyvat are on a verge of crisis... Crisis of faith. Shouldn't you... Be more concerned? Bend rules for a bit?" Echo of Creator's powers stepped from one leg to another. The bleak copy of First One took few steps towards the edge of a platform, looking down at Teyvat. At The First One's Land. Echo turned their head towards Sustainer.

"I... I can pose as Legitimate Reincarnation. Remind people of Teyvat, who's laws they should follow. What they allowed to do and what lines not allowed to cross."

Echo were now standing before Sustainer. And from the darkness, dozens of Celestials observed. Sustainer's siblings and comrades. Most of them fight together with The First One, witnessing the birth of Teyvat. Echo looked Sustainer in the eyes.

"Pose as my familiars. Let me take The Ivory Throne."

The Silence of Celestial, home and cradle of The First One was shattered.

"Preposterous!"

"Never!"

"Impossible!"

"Sustainer, let us throw that worm from the edge!"

Sustainer raised her hand, silencing her siblings. She looked directly in Echo's eyes. They didn't flinch. They already act, like Legitimate Reincarnation.

There was something strange with that Echo. Sustainer could feel a sickly sweet scent, coming from Echo. Their movements were careful and calculated.

Were Echo sick? Were they trying to live, what remains of their lifespan the best, they can? Is that what mortals do?

The First One was the best among them in understanding mortals. But, Sustainer, while not the best, was still good at reading people.

Sustainer's voice flows. And Echo knew, that they have no right to interrupt her. If Echo dared to break The First One's protocol, they won't live for another moment.

"Why you came here only now, Echo? Why not came here earlier? Why you didn't stop Fontaine's Prophecy? Why you didn't release Dendro Archon? Why you didn't stop Electro Archon? Why didn't protect people of Liyue from Osial and Beisht? Why didn't calm Dvalin's pain?"

Sustainer's nose was almost pressed against Echo's.

"Why didn't you stop Cryo Archon?"

Echo's voice was firm.

"I only got here. And immediately came to you."

Sustainer raise her head, looking at Echo from above.

"Or, perhaps, you were too scared to do something dangerous. You did nothing to earn the right to be on the Ivory Throne."

Echo yelled.

"I am also a reincarnation of Creator! And I won't be the first Echo on the throne!"

Immediately, air was knocked down from them. Echo was laying on the marble floor of Celestia. Guardian, Sustainer's brother, was holding Echo down. Sustainer towered above Echo behind his back.

"They helped people during dark times, before asking for a throne! You just want praises, that came with The Ivory Throne. Leave Teyvat, mortal. Leave, and never return."

Echo's gaze darkened.

"So, that's what you choose..."

Guardian yelled.

And he fell.

A dagger with white handle was sticking from the middle of his chest.

Dirty, blasphemous power raised from Echo... From the Demon.

"It was a good thing, I didn't eat all the bones of Previous Ones I could find. Aren't the knife from their bones great for slaying gods?"

Demon raised from the ground. Black, sticky tendrils came from the tips of their fingers, curling around Celestia.

A bone dagger flew through crowd. Attacking, killing, destroying.

"I can fool them. Their prayers will come to me. But, I can't let your prayers came to The Second Reincarnation."

Demon showed their teeth.

"Can't wait for their arrival. I will finally get fresh meat."

Celestia shook.

The Cradle of The First One was sullen.

It crumbled.

And gods fell down, while demon stayed above.

___________

Chuuya Nakahara was quiet. The broken god sat before him.

He supposed to simply look around Sumeru, to explore some parts of the region, they weren't familiar with.

Instead, he found a dying god. Or, more likely, dying god has fond him.

She called him the new familiar of The First One. And told him a story. Story, that happened year ago.

Sustainer focused her eyes on Chuuya.

"I saw it. I can feel it. Last pure remains of The First One's power. They... True Reincarnation are safe, right? You are their new familiar, right?"

Sustainer coughed, a bloody drop appeared in the corner of her mouth. She swallowed the blood.

"Or a guardian?"

Chuuya finally found his voice.

"Their friend... [Y/N]'s friend."

Sustainer's dull eyes shined.

"[Y/N]... Their name? How perfect. It's perfect. Truly divine..."

Sustainer forgot about Chuuya and start repeating your name over and over again.

A child-like smile appeared on her face. Sustainer of Heavenly Principles was happy, because she likes the name of Real Reincarnation.

Chuuya interrupted her.

"What happened to you? After the Fall of Celestia?"

Sustainer coughed again.

"Demon got me. When I was falling. Was dying ever since."

She looked at Chuuya.

"Death of divine can take centuries. We will exist as long as memories and knowledge about us lives. And will slowly die as long as memories and knowledge about us lives."

Sustainer's body trembled.

"But I can go now. They are safe. New familiars are near them. Take it. Use all of it. Protect them. Protect them, because I can't."

Sustainer grabbed the golden ornament on her chest. Tendrils of her power flow into it.

Sustainer disappeared in a golden dust.

And a golden ornament with her power remains.

__________

Chuuya never used his ability to make something, so, it takes multiple attempts, before he can make a somewhat of an urn from a boulder.

Sustainer deserved to have a grave.

The golden ornament was safely tucked in his pocket.

And his rage was boiling in his soul.

Chuuya thought, that the Truth was next.

Crazy knock-off bitch wanted to kill you.

The real truth was much worse.

Crazy knock-off bitch wanted to eat you!

Earth crumbled beneath Chuuya's feet.

If only he could walk straight to that thing and made it a bloody splat on the Dragonspine...

But he needs to stay calm.

They can't drop too much attention to them.

Can't let people knew about the plan. About their unity.

Lovecraft can pass as another monster from ancient history, Jouno, after Mondstadt, was keeping low, Fitzgerald's attacks were only aimed at Ningguang and Pantalone, Mark's and John's bank robbery can be passed as treasure horders' doings, same with Blue Mackerel's and Ango's scum. And it's not like Anemiac Freak and Sigma force people to go to their casino.

But the assassination attempt on Creator will be impossible to pin on someone else.

In Teyvat's people's eyes, only an Imposter can wish to harm Creator.

His rage was still boiling.

But, for now, Chuuya Nakahara will hold his desire to kill that thing under control.

But he wanted to do something. Anything.

Piano Man's voice echoed in his mind.

"Start with the mines..."

Chuuya stopped. He and Flags hold a little discussion few days ago. About Archon's and their powers. Topic of Mora and fallen Celestia came up. Mora supposed to came from Celestial powers. But, with Celestia out...

"...metal for counterfeit money has to come from somewhere... No one would question, that new Mora looked different. It still be money, that came from Creator..."

Chuuya might take a little detour and visit The Chasm.

________

Chuuya ignored Fitzgerald's gaze, getting on the boat, sitting near the blonde man.

Lovecraft's tentacles hold the boat firmly on his back.

For an octopus-like creature, Lovecraft was extremely fast.

Lovecraft, swimming underwater, keeping a boat with Chuuya and Fitzgerald above, will reach the island with a porta in an hour.

Fitzgerald finally spoke.

"That earthquake..."

Chuuya didn't let him finish.

"Existence of a Chasm got on my nerves. I dealt with it."

_____________________

He left a stone urn with golden dust in their secret cave. When everything will be over, he will spread it over the remains of Celestia.

The knock on the door made you flinch. You liked your lips and answered.

_____________________

It was almost time to go to bed. You silently lay under the blanket. You were afraid of going to sleep. You didn't want to see another nightmare.

"Who is it?"

Door slightly open and a familiar redhead looked inside.

"Hey, Dear Symphony, want some company?"

You nodded slowly.

Chuuya walked into your room. And you finally saw his attire. A familiar red-toned pajamas.

He was holding his phone in one hand.

"Hey, [Y/N], do you want to cuddle tonight?"

You froze. You used to love cuddles.

But, after Teyvat...

The last "normal" cuddles you get were with Dazai and Fyodor. Few weeks ago.

You stopped cuddling, because of your nightmares. Because your screams already woke up others.

You didn't want to wake up a person, who will lie next to you.

BSD Cast respect your decision.

Despite your decision, you didn't want to be alone at night.

You didn't realize, that you were crying, until Chuuya brushed your tears from your cheeks. He smiled softly, looking at you.

"You need some 'me time', Dear Symphony. To recharge. Let me cuddle with you, while you're listening to music."

You didn't speak. You nodded, leaning to Chuuya's touch.

_________

Sounds of music filled the room.

Chuuya was laying behind you. With his arm around you, his chest was pressed against your back. Your bodies were pressed tightly against each other. Your head was laying on Chuuya's outstretched left arm. He was holding your hand in his left hand. His nose was right next to your ear. His breath tickled your hair. Chuuya felt the rise and fall of your chest grow steady with sleep.

Good. You seem calm.

Chuuya moved his head to plant a little kiss on your temple. You smiled in your sleep.

Chuuya blinked away happy tears. He put his head back, nuzzling your hair.

Tonight, only you and him exist. Tonight, only your comfort matters.

Tomorrow, he will say to others, what he has learned today. Tomorrow, fury and rage will boil.

And after that will come new plans, new actions.

And even more love and care for you.

____________

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

Chuuya in red-toned pajamas

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #imposter sagau #Self-Aware Chuuya Nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bsd nakahara #sagau impostor au #imposter au #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau

[apheleion]

you take care of hotch after a rough case. tags: blood, slight angst, hurt/comfort, pet names (honey) requests for hotch are open!

You’re not sure what time of night it is when you feel the feather light touch of lips pressed to your temple.

“Aaron?”

“Just me, honey. Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

Your eyes flutter open and you sit up despite his words, yawning. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You twist to turn on the lamp that sits upon your nightstand, but Aaron takes hold of your wrist gently. “Honey—”

You wrench your hand out of his grasp and manage to turn it on. “Why are you being so—” A gasp leaves your lips as you lay your eyes on his face. “Oh my god, what happened? You… you’re still bleeding.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing, I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” you scoff. “You know I’m always gonna worry about you. Let me clean you up.”

“I can take care of it—”

“Aaron Hotchner, so help me god—”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, sighing.

You throw the covers off and step out of bed. After taking his hand, you lead him into the bathroom and have him sit on the toilet. Once you have the first aid kit, you let it sit open on the counter next to you and stand between his legs.

“What happened?” you ask, voice wobbling slightly as you reach a hand out to cup his face.

“It was nothing. Really. Just got a few punches thrown at me, that’s all.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat as you gently wash the blood from his face. “It looks like more than that.”

“Honey, I’m okay.”

“I know you are,” you say, biting back a sob as tears spring to your eyes.

“Look at me.” You can’t, because you know if you do that you’ll break down, and that’s the last thing he needs after a case like this. “Please.”

The moment your gaze meets his, a few tears trail down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you say, letting out a wet laugh. “You’re the one that’s hurt and I’m crying. What a great wife I am.”

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Aaron tells you, voice firm yet soft. “I should be the one that’s sorry.”

“For what? Doing your job?” you ask, sniffling. “I knew what I signed up for when I married you, Aaron.”

“I know you did ,” he sighs, shoulders slumping forward slightly.

Silence blankets the bathroom as you finish cleaning him up. Once you’re done, you put everything back in the first aid kit, zipping it up and stepping out from between his legs to tuck it into the cabinet.

You walk back over to stand in front of him and take his face in his hands. He gives you one of his rare smiles, the dimple that you love so much making an appearance at the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. “And not just for cleaning me up.”

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands gently. Aaron wraps his arms around your waist, leaning forward to press his face into your stomach. Your stomach flips.

“I know,” you whisper.

#kate writes #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x y/n #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fic #hotchner x reader #hotchner x y/n #hotchner x you #hotchner imagine #hotchner fic #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch fic #hotch fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n

[scorpioriesling]

Random Tropes HC (pt. 2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Lucien / Eris x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok where you can rank book tropes, and this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of these posts -- enjoy! Part 1

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Lucien - "Only One Bed"

You were definitely crushing on Lucien -- who wouldn't?

You were close with him and Tamlin, working at the Spring Manor until you became more than an employee, but a friend.

Well, a friend to Lucien anyway.

Tamlin took note of how well you were able to spy, and turned you into his own personal Spymaster.

You didn't mind too much -- after a while, Tamlin warmed up to you. He also appreciated how you made Feyre feel more comfortable when she first arrived in the Spring Court.

As fate would have it, you and Feyre were a lot alike.

It didn't take long to see what was going on. She was planning to run.

Over the last few months, Tamlin grew more enraged, more angry at the world. You couldn't stay, you knew you had to get out.

And Cauldron be damned, Lucien was coming with you.

He wasn't happy about it at first, especially when the two Night Court warriors winnowed Feyre away and left the two of you to walk the rest of the way to the Night Court.

"Do you think he will change?" Lucien asks you, the cold wind ruffling his hair. You shiver against the wind.

"No," you say after a long moment. Lucien pulls you close to him, heat radiating from his body against the chill.

"I don't know if we could ever go back." He says. You sigh and bury closer to him, trying to keep in step with his long legs.

"I don't think he'd allow us back." You say. Tears prick the back of your eyes, but you blink to keep them at bay. Lucien changes the conversation, happier topic chosen this time. He is talking about all the delicious food the Night Court must have when you finally spot a motel in the distance.

"Our salvation!" Lucien gasps. He grabs you by the arm, pulling you with him as he breaks into a jog. You're panting trying to keep up, but you finally make it to the building.

"We're just about sold out." The stocky female behind the desk murmurs. Lucien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You're standing behind him, and you place a delicate hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, gaze softening.

"Ma'am, we'll take whatever you have left." You say. She rummages through her drawers, presenting a single golden key on a long corded string.

"Floor 2. Last door on the right." She huffs. You anxiously take it from her, looping the string around your neck. The key dangles like a pendant on a necklace as you take Lucien's hand in yours and lead him upstairs.

Some salvation this is.

There's only one bed.

A blessing in disguise.

"Cauldron..." he sighs, slinging his bag to the floor. "I'll just, take the floor." He says, moving into the room. You furrow your brow.

"Lucien, do you think I've never had a sleepover before? We can share." You say. You rifle through your pack for extra clothes, and with a wave of his hand, the candles and fireplace are alight with warmth.

"Well... only if you're okay with that." He says. You nod, realizing then that you have no sleepwear. Lucien seems to realize the same thing as his hands come up empty.

"You can shower first, if you were wanting to." You offer kindly. The firelight is painting his features beautifully, and you force yourself to look away. But Gods, was it hard.

"Thanks!" With that, he was heading for the bathroom. You sighed, flopping down on the bed. You hadn't expected this level of comfort from a motel bed, but the soft silky blankets, the plush pillows...

You sighed a breath of contentment, fingers toying with the gold key laced around your neck.

You stripped down to your undergarments, as your clothes from the day were filthy. Folding them into a neat pile beside the bed, you slipped under the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your body as the blankets had not yet warmed.

Lucien finally came out of the bathroom, his eyes raking over your bare shoulders not concealed by the covers. He choked down a cough, and you kept your eyes closed as he slid into the bed next to you.

His bare arm brushed yours, and your eyes flew open. You readjusted to lay on your side, and so did he at the contact. However, now you were face to face.

"Are you... cold?" He asked. His sweet gaze held yours as his fingers timidly grazed your shoulder. Fresh goosebumps appeared, and you shivered.

"Yes." He frowned.

"Comere." His hand gripped your waist, fingers over your hip bone as he pulled you flush against him. You pretended not to notice the growing buldge pressing against you as his hand traced small patterns over your back.

"I can give you some of my body heat, if this is okay?" He asks, voice low and raspy. Maybe it was the way his lips were inches from yours, the small candelight illuminating his perfectly sculpted face...

Or maybe you had finally decided to be honest.

"It's more than okay." You said. Heat returned to your cheeks, and a small smile danced on his lips as his gaze flicked between your eyes and mouth.

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, trailing down your neck to the small key still looped around it. He toyed with it for a moment, before his lust-filled amber eyes met yours once more.

"I can give you more, if that would be okay too." He whispered. You shook again, this time the excited, anxious, energy rolling from you.

"It's more than okay."

Eris - "Who Did This To You?"

Reading was one of Eris' favorite pass times.

In fact, it was one thing he had in common with you.

The only thing, he swore.

One of many things, actually.

In fact, Eris was doing just that when he heard a commotion outside. Usually, it was his father. He'd learned not to get involved, but this time...

This was different.

His heartstrings tugged as he strained his ears, trying to listen beyond his windows for any indication of what was happening.

"Please... please..."

He snapped his novel shut, flying to his feet and racing outside. He wasn't sure what had come over him -- but he knew. He could feel it. You were here, and you needed him.

He'd thought over and over the last few years how you'd cry. How he would and could make you do it. Thought about killing you himself, once. Using his fire on you in ways he'd done only once before. You were acting like a lap dog, sitting with the Inner Circle at one of their meetings. Rhysand didn't let you talk, of course. You didn't even challenge him. You always let him walk all over you.

Maybe that's what pissed him off so badly.

You were packed full of good ideas, talents, advice; but you bowed to Rhysand, and that was that. You never spoke up for yourself.

You were worth so much more than that. You could offer so much more than you were allowed.

He tore through the hedge maze, snapping branches, feet thundering around every corner. His breathing was heavy, eyes searching in the night to find you.

"Please, Eris... someone..."

He followed your pained whimpering until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck, dried flakes throughout your usually vibrant tendrils. Your hands braced over your abdomen, tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you looked at him in desperation. His heart broke in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him.

His sadness turned very quickly, to anger. He felt... violent.

He ran his hands over your face, seeing blood pouring from your lip, and he reached up to move some hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing pool you sat in. Well, one of the causes. He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, more crimson drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek. His whiskey eyes were dulled to a deep bourbon, his jaw clenched.

"Come with me."

He scooped you up, carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out small yelps, the searing pain in your stomach too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. He felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were. A gentle, wise, doe. His gentle doe.

He finally made it inside, sitting you on the sofa in front of the fireplace as he ran to the washroom and returned quickly. He presented a small wet cloth, taking your chin in his fingers and beginning to wipe away the red stains over your delicate skin. He tried so hard to stay gentle with you, trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes instead. It only caused him more pain, seeing you like that. His head dropped, and he raked a hand through his hair.

"Put this in here," he grabbed a clean cloth, folding it and raising it to your mouth. You opened, usually defiant towards your enemy, but, really... you'd do anything he asked. He placed it between your teeth, and his hands covered your bloody ones, still clutching your stomach.

"Y/N... you have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, removing your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp, shaking his head.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your stained fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on your for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest, I've thought about hurting you before as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus as your mind started to fog, vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view, fingers ablaze with fire. You sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again. His hand meets your bubbling would, fire searing the skin as a scream tears through your already dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for a moment only to press heat onto your would again.

Your hands rip and claw at the collar of his shirt, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would.

Over. Over. Over again.

You lean back, knowing the familiar weightless feeling. You were going to black out. His once-white collar slips from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before you slink into darkness.

When you come to, you're wrapped cozily in silken sheets, a pair of fleece pants covering your legs. Soft sunlight streams in through... a window. You blink, widening your eyes and looking around. The mahogony sheets were an unusual replacement to your lilac ones, and the four poster wooden bed was a change as well. Your eyes caught on a bookshelf, one with many titles like yours, at least. One book sat on the window seat, basked in sunlight. It was a title you'd already read.

You were in Eris' room.

You lean to sit up, but cry out in pain and lay back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you bore. A bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing any injury. Your mind went to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

In moments, Eris is passing through the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" He steps to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to get out. Eris readjusts to face you, a hand stroking through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed, and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of snow under your knees, rocks in your palms only the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you stifle another cry. Eris brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second.

Again, he asked, eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, who did this to you?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

#a court of silver flames #acofas #acotar #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #a court of frost and starlight #lucien x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar series

[lovezbrownies]

Work affair. (Yandere!Boss x GN!Reader)

Masterlist

Synopsis: Your boss never cared much for you, until he did.

Red Ludenhart x Reader.

Warnings: Stalking, breaking and entering, alcohol, clubbing, drugging (to reader), death (minor character), forced memory loss,

Your boss was a tad bit strange, but you can put up with the strange behavior if it meant getting paid. Even if your boss didn’t allow you to step outside of his office and the VVIP area of the club that’s okay, maybe he doesn’t want you to be influenced by lazy workers! Or he doesn’t want any of the sleazy non-VVIP customers to harass you! It was all for your own safety. You think.

Red was delighted to learn your apartment was close by to his club. He would always offer to walk you back home when your shift is regrettably over, he has your address memorized, as well as the entire layout of your apartment. The second fact was not something you were aware of however, you should definitely get better locks. It was child’s play to break into your humble abode.

The first few nights he broke into your home he was far more cautious than he is now, Red didn’t know when your bedtime was, but when he decided to install cameras all around your apartment, he could finally have some peace knowing when you were and weren’t awake. And of course to spy on any guests you have over, watching you walk around and commit yourselves to your hobbies on the weekends.

You were the definition of perfection in his eyes. Red wasn’t one for love and that mushy stuff, he’d always preferred the more chaotic parts of his life than the mushy lovey dovey stuff he’s seen on TV. That's what he’s been saying to himself up until he met you, the new bartender. Red has no clue who hired you but he sure as hell is eternally grateful for it.

It wasn’t a love at first sight situation, nor did you meet immediately. You met the owner of the club you work at a month after you started working. It was during the monthly staff meeting when you did. Red was confused by your presence and asked who you were, after introducing yourself to him he brushed you off. Red didn’t care if there was a new employee, as long as you don’t cause trouble you’re not someone important to him at all.

Red thought you were attractive, sure, but most of his staff are– nothing new. Red doesn’t like the main entrance of his own club, usually taking the back entrance for special patrons, and into the VVIP area. So that means months passed, and the only times he’d ever see you are during the staff meetings. He’s sure you do at least the bare minimum since you don’t get a lot of complaints like other staff. Maybe the illogical assholes every now and then would accuse you of something but the floor manager usually has it handled.

It wasn’t until you had the closing shift while Red was still there that he realized how wonderful you are. Normally he’d be back home before the closing shift, today was different. It was a long complicated process but Red managed to convince an investor to put in double the money they originally invested; it was now 5:50 AM. Patrons have been kicked out, evident by the lack of noise, and Red’s sure the staff have left by now.

Red needed to drink something, and he needed it to be as heavy as possible. The VVIP areas didn’t have anything strong so he went to the general area of his club. Red expected the usual emptiness of the club, but someone was still there, vacuuming the confetti off the floors. In the middle of the large empty club stood you, headphones on as you nodded along to the music you were listening to.

This was something he hadn’t seen before; and he just stood there– watching as you cleaned up, unaware of the predator watching your every move. Eventually, tired of standing there Red just walked over to one of the bars around the club, took his favorite brandy bottle, poured himself a cup full, and kept watching. This time he was leaning against the bar counter. It was cute how you were none the wiser of his presence.

Eventually you turned off the vacuum. Turning around you expected nothing less than perfectly clear floors, which yes that you did see, but you also found the owner of the club, smirking at you, glass half empty. You stood there, motionlessly staring at Red as he stared right back at you. Not wanting to get into trouble for whatever reason you sped off into the restricted area for the staff and booked it to the janitor’s closet; just as Red was about to say something to quell your anxieties.

Well, not Red’s interest was certainly piqued. Picking up the vacuum you abandoned he made his way over to the staff only area, waiting to hear some shuffling but all he heard was the staff’s exit door opening and closing. You left. Not a trace of your existence to be seen. Looked like you were all ready and packed to leave, it’s fine, he’ll just put the vacuum back and see you the next day.

And see you he did. For weeks, he would approach you at the end of your shift, chat, and then walk you back home. A month and a half into your newfound friendship he promoted you to be the VVIP’s sole bartender, firing the old one for reasons unknown. Red watched your every move since, in his club, in your apartment, with your friends, shopping. Wherever you are. There will always be a camera following your every move.

Your boss was a nice man for getting to know you, walking you home as the sun rises, making sure no one bothered you, and when someone did he’d defend you like his life depended on it. Normally, you’d fall in love with a man if he did all that just for you. But you were already in a committed relationship. 

Your husband, Richard, is a military man, striving to be the next Chief. He moved away from the city you two lived in right before you started working at the bar– Rich was transferred over to a different city, and you didn’t want to move away from your family and friends, so you compromised. Richard tries his best to come by and visit, he still pays for your shared apartment, and always calls you morning and night. He is the man for you.

Red knew about Richard, of course he would. Red knew everything there was to know about you, and was he concerned over it? No. Red has connections everywhere. Including in the military, so when an unfortunate accident occurs, a misfire, or maybe a terrible case of food poisoning. Whatever it may be, your ex-husband is now dead. Leaving room for Red to be the sincere loving friend. Yes, come running to his arms, cry to him, it’s late and you don’t want to be alone? No worries, he’ll stay the night!

Red’s been doing an amazing job distracting you from the death of your ex-husband. Hugging you when you need, cooking mouth watering dishes just for you, and buying you many things to help distract you from the grief. Like gaming consoles, knitting yarn, books, art equipment, anything! If he ever sees you show interest in something he will immediately purchase it or at least try to get a hold of it. Whenever you show concern or guilt over the amounts he’s spent on you he softly pets you and tells you that his club is very successful.

Over time, Red truly weaseled his way into your life. He spent most of his nights in your bed; although platonically, as you so claim. Red likes to act like a good househusband when he does sleep over, wake up early, cook breakfast, and shamelessly flirt with you. You two walk together to work, he doesn’t dare think of work up until your shift starts.

Red doesn’t like to harm you, but he has been slipping a few pills into your food; a few anti-anxiety meds, with sleeping aids and here comes the perfect concoction for lapses of memory, causing you to forget quite a bit but not too much to be dangerous. He does this for a while, until you mostly forget about the fact that you had been unfaithful to Red by marrying some rando. Once that happens Red pulls back from the drugging. It was easy to do so, with a spare key to your apartment and him cooking you most of your meals.

You stare up at the ceiling with a soft smile on your face, you ponder how you hadn’t managed to fall in love with your husband sooner. He’s always been there for you, he’s protected you from creeps, and he’s spoiled you even before you got together. You were so lucky that you had him. You looked back down, gazing at the handsome man laying his head on your lap. You caress his hair, your perfect man, Red.

Red loves his little butterfly.

#x reader #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere #yandere x darling #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #gender neutral #Yandere oc x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere male x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere themes

[littlxpxtal]

I Can See You

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence WORD COUNT: 2.7K

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

December

I zipped up my coat before opening my car door, stepping down onto the ground, and scanning the parking lot for a familiar face. It was the first day back at school after Thanksgiving break, it was starting to get chilly in the Outer Banks. I felt a cold breeze against my legs. Even though the temperature was dropping, school uniforms were mandatory, which meant forcing girls to wear skirts for the rest of winter. 

First and Second periods go by painstakingly slow, but at least I had Sabrina to pass notes with as time dragged on

How was break? We missed you on blackout wednesday :(

My family takes holidays wayyyy too seriously. I was up late prepping the turkey with my mom and then up early to set the table. My family watches the parade like a bunch of losers

When I pass her back the notes she giggles and gives me a thumbs down.

Kelce was asking where you were

I make a face when I read her note

Why would he be asking about me lmao

I told you their friend group thinks you’re dope as hell. And we’re always together so I guess he assumed you’d come with me

Sorry I couldn’t make it. Was it fun?

I blacked out and called Derek :(

I frowned at her in response

Need details at lunch. Meet me at my car!

She gives me a thumbs up this time and slides the piece of paper between her books as our teacher starts to stroll down the aisle, making sure everyone is taking notes on the assigned reading.

The bell rings and I drag my feet to third period, holding my breath as I walk through the doorway, mentally preparing for the agony I was about to endure for the next 90 minutes.

I take my usual seat on the right side of the room in the third row, right next to the window, and diagonally behind from Rafe at an angle where I can see him, but he can’t see me. He sat ontop of his desk, his blazer hanging over his shoulder as he leaned forward, whispering something into Carissa Whitlock’s ear that makes her giggle and blush. I swallow hard before reaching into my book bag to get my textbook out with our holiday homework placed neatly ontop. 

Our teacher walks in, clearing his throat to let us know class was about to start. I watch as Rafe stands up, and brushes Carissa’s hair behind her ear. He swings his blazer around and onto his arms, turning his body to face me. He catches my stare and winks, licking his lips. I blankly stare at him, giving him no reaction to whatever the fuck that just was. 

When Rafe takes notes, he juts his tongue out slightly and chews on the inside of his cheek. His leg shakes up and down the entire period, and he adjusts in his seat about every 5 minutes, checks his phone about every other minute, and never has his book open to the right page. 

I catch myself watching him more than our teacher, because everything he does is too damn dsitracting. I can practically hear his eyes roll to the back of his head everytime the teacher scratches a piece of chalk on the board, and fumble with the video on the projector, leaving the mouse in the middle of the screen. 

He can never figure out how to expand the video to full screen, someone always has to go up and help him. Today, Rafe decided it would be him to volunteer during the technical difficultles. He saunters up the row to the front of the room, taking over the laptop and stays at the front of the class while the video plays.

A smirk displays across his face when I finally make eye contact with him. His back is pressed against the board, his chin slightly tilted up. He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip and chuckles to himself. I force my eyes back to the screen but I have a hard time concentrating as I remember what it was like for his tongue to be pressed against the inside of my thighs.

I cross my legs underneath my desk, and flash my eyes back to Rafe, catching him watching me again. His eyes linger down under my desk, softly raising an eyebrow as I squeeze my legs tightly together. He stands up straight and directs his eyes elsewhere. I turn my attention back to the video and furiously scribble notes, trying to catch up with everything that I had just missed.

Before the video ends, the bell rings dismissing us for lunch. I scramble to get everything into my bag, trying to get out of class as quick as possible to meet Sabrina at my car. 

The book I was currently reading slips from my grasp and lands on the ground. Before I can bend over to reach it, Rafe is infront of me picking it up. His hand softly travels up my thigh as he stands up, brushing away when he reaches the hem of my skirt

“Dropped this” he says, handing me my book, with a taunting look in his eyes.

“Thanks” I murmur, shoving it into my backpack, zipping it up and brushing past him out the door.

I feel my cheeks burning and I walk swiftly out the front doors to the parking lot, catching Sabrina already waiting at my car.

“Woah why’s your face all red?” she asks when I finally reach her.

“They had the heat on full blast in class it was a sauna” I lied, unlocking my car.

Sabrina spent the entire lunch period telling me the details of the Wednesday before thanksgiving. It was a kook tradition to throw a rager for blackout Wednesday, and it seems as though the seniors went all out this year. Sabrina explained that she was on the verge of blacking out by 9pm, and had to be force fed water by our group of friends. She tried to trick everyone that she was going to the bathroom but was found on the side of the road trying to get to his house. By the time she got home she had called Derek at least 10 times and texted him multiple paragraphs.

“He wasn’t even in the Outer Banks, he went on the mainland to his grandparents” she said, face in her hands.

“God Sab, this sounds awful.” she sighs and finally peaks up from her hands.

“See this is why I need you by my side at all times.”

I laughed and grabbed her hands away from her face.

“Yea I would’ve thrown your phone into the ocean before I even let you unblock him.”

She gives me a weak smile before the bell rings, disrupting our story time.

The rest of the day drags on, classes filled with the last sections of the semester, passing out study packets for final exams. By the end of the day I had 5 packets and a sample essay to work on in preparation. After the final bell rang I sat on the lawn in the central quad, opening my calendar to sketch out a study timeline for myself to get everything done by Friday. After figuring out a solid plan I pulled out my book and began reading, enjoying the sunshine and cool breeze. 

A few pages in I heard footsteps crunching on the grass towards me.

“Aren’t ya cold?” the voice asks. I look up to see Noah, wearing his varsity jacket and a beanie on his head, backpack slung over one shoulder.

“I don’t mind it.” I said plainly, turning my head back to my book.

“Do you need a ride or something?” he asks, taking another step closer.

“No I drove. I just like sitting out here sometimes after everyone leaves. It’s a lot more pleasant when someone isn’t playing music obnoxiously loud from a speaker.” He snorts at my response.

“Thats understandable. Whatcha reading?” he asks, now taking a seat on the grass infront of me plopping his bookbag next to him.

“The Secret History.” I say, placing my bookmark on the page I left off, and closing the book “Do you like to read?”

“Kinda. Mainly history books though.” he says, playing with the grass beneath him.

“Maybe we can recommend each other books. I’ve always wanted to get more into history” I say with a soft smile. He returns a smile back to me and gets out his phone.

“Give me your number, I’ll text you my favorites.” he passes me his unlocked phone and I type in my number, saving it with my first name. 

“Didn’t see you out last wednesday.” he says as I pass the phone back.

“Family was in town.” he nods his head in response. 

“Did Sabrina tell you we found her on the side of the road?” I sigh and shake my head.

“I feel so bad, she just seems so lost recently. I wish she would get over him.” he lightly chuckles and shakes his head.

“Don’t know about that one. They’ve been doing this back-and-forth thing for like two years now. He loves playing games with her, its gross.” he says with a frustrated tone.

I look up and see dark clouds have now covered the sun, and a whisk of wind blows past us.

“I should probably get home.” I say, grabbing my things and standing up.

“I can walk you to your car, you in the main lot?” he asks, starting to stand. I shake my head yes in response and we walk in silence towards the front. We make it to my car and he awkwardly stands to the side as I open the back door to toss my bag in.

“Well I’ll text you those book recs later.”

“Great, I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Get home safe.” he says before turning around.

I open the door to my car and notice the group of guys in the back lot - specifically a tall blonde. We make eye contact for a second and I hop into my car. I glance at Rafe again as I turn the ignition on and he has a stern look on his face. He was never one to greet me with smiles, but he looked angry. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long week of studying, I took friday afternoon to pamper myself. Starting with a treat from the local bakery on my way home, I took an everything shower and got into bed by 7pm ready to binge watch Game of Thrones until I feel asleep. Halfway through the first episode my phone buzzed

Sabrina

Wyd tonight

Binge watching GOT

Isn't this like your fourth time watching that shit

Hehe maybe

I have some wine, can I come over?

Hmmm what kind

2 bottles of sweet red

wow im wet

lol ur a freak. I’ll be there in 20

I like her text and walk upstairs, finding my mom on the couch

“Are you already ready for bed?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and tiliting down her reading glasses.

“I was but I think Sabrina’s gonna come over if thats okay.” I say, rummaging through the pantry for any snacks. 

“That’s fine. Your dad and I have dinner plans on the mainland with your sister. Lucy is going to come with us.” she says, going back to her book.

“Wow thanks for the invite,” I huff, grabbing a bag of chips and the half-empty oreo container. My older sister was in her last year at UNC, and my parents were obsessed with finding any reason to go visit her. Lucy, my younger sister who was a freshman this year at Kildare, adores Kinsey, so I wasn’t shocked that she would want to join too. I was slightly offended that they didn’t invite me, but I probably would’ve said no anyways. 

“Well you’ve been cooped up in your room all week studying I thought you would have plans to go out tonight.” she says, not looking up. “I’ll leave you money for a pizza.” 

“Thanks” I respond shortly before opening the basement door and closing it behind me. 

10 Minutes later Sabrina shows up at the side door with a bookbag clinking loudly behind her. 

“You are so lucky to have this access holy shit how are you not sneaking guys in here everynight.” putting her bag down she opens it up to reveal the bottles of wine and some plastic cups.

I chuckle in response, grabbing one of the bottles and unscrewing the top, filling the cups all the way. 

“That’s the exact reason why I got this room in middle school. My sister Kinsey had it first but got caught her junior year sneaking her boyfriend in. It was so bad. She had just gotten her lacrosse scholarship to UNC and my parents were terrified she was going to get pregant and ruin her life.”

“Thats iconic.” Sabrina says, chugging her wine.  “Sooo Topper told me you were hanging with Noah this week.”

My eyes widen. “Jesus, do I have security following my every move?” I ask, opening the bag of chips. “He walked me to my car Monday, and we studied together in the library on Thursday because we have the same calculus exam next week. How did you even find that out from Topper of all people.”

“You know how they are. They’ll find anyone to gossip about, they’re worse than us. ‘Parently he likes you.” I blush in response to this accusation.

“We’re just friends.” I state, offering her the bag. She takes it from my hands and munches on a few.

“We’ll see” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. I roll my eyes and finish my cup, pouring more wine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We make our way to my back patio, bundled up in hoodies and sweatpants, covered with a blanket, sitting by the fire.

“Promise me you’re not going to talk to Derek ever again.” I say, feeling my words start to slur as we near the end of the second bottle. 

“I promise. I’m so done with that douchebag. This time next year we’ll be at college and I’ll have met so many better people, I hope I forget about him.”

I clink my cup against hers. “Thats the spirit.” 

I grab my small box out from under me and begin to roll up a joint. Music from my speaker fills the silence as Sabrina stares out at the water.

Once I’m done rolling I light it with my purple lighter, inhaling and closing my eyes, leaning my head back before exhaling. I pass it to Sabrina. We go back and forth a few times, enjoying each other's company before her phone rings. I raise an eyebrow and she shows me the caller ID. It’s Topper. I ash the joint and scoot closer as she presses accept.

“Yo where you at Sab?” he shouts into the phone. She puts him on speaker phone and I turn down the music. 

“Partying without you.” she slurs.

“Where?” he asks again. I hear male voices in the background and shake my head, begging her to not tell him she’s at my house. 

“None of your business. Who’re you with?” 

“Kelce and Rafe. The party at Carissa’s just got busted.”

“That’s a shame. Heard it was gonna be a lame party anyways.”

“Yea, is that why you and Y/N skipped out on coming?” he taunts.

“We had better plans.” she responds, trying to hide her giggles in her sleeve.

“Why don’t you let us swing by your better plans then?”

Her eyes flash towards mine and I groan. “Do they have booze?” I whisper.

“Yes we have booze Y/N” Topper responds. I hide my face in my blanket as if he could see me, embarrassed that I had gotten caught. “Are you at her house?” Sabrina goes silent, looking at me with eyes practically screaming at me with what we should say. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I sigh and sit up.

“We’re in the back. And it better just be you three or else.” I threaten in the phone. 

“We’ll be there in 5.” he hangs up the phone and I stare at Sabrina.

She makes a pouty face at me and I let my eyes soften at her.

“If they ruin the vibe it's your fault.”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #x reader #obx x y/n #obx x you #obx x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x kook!reader #sarah cameron #jj maybank #john b routledge #kiara carrera #pope heyward #obx pogues #obx kooks #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you

[hwanchaesong]

Quintessence (Forbidden Love) Preview

pairing: Sunghoon X F!Reader

synopsis: He was a king, you were a queen. A perfect match? No. Not when the heavens and earth collide within him. When that happens, are you ready to stand in between the stars and dust to stay by his side?

word count: tba

genre & warnings: angst, smut, fluff, lowkey (?) inspired by Queen Charlotte, warnings tba

a/n: this is a teaser for the upcoming Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels series that i've been working on. i hope y'all look forward to it. please don't hesitate to tell me if you wanted to be added to the taglist. tysm 🩷

"I said, leave! I don't want to see you here! I don't want you near me!" Sunghoon yells, slamming his hands down the table, turning to you with his eyes ablazed as he points towards the door.

He stays rooted on the wooden floor when you shook your head, fire raging within your veins as well as you proved your will to him.

"I will not be going anywhere, Sunghoon." you fought back, the clacking of your heels thumping through his brain.

"Did you not heard or understand what I said?!" his booming voice echoed around the observatory, one would think that he's angry. But you know him well enough to recognize the hint of desperation, the laced sadness and disappointment in his tone.

You know him well enough to understand that he says the most absurd things out there whenever he's building a wall around him.. a wall that will shield you from his insanity.

"I heard you loud and clear, Sunghoon." you replied, voice unyielding while your gaze is trained on him and only him. "You told me to leave. That you don't wan't to see me. That you don't want me near you. What I have not heard is that you don't love me." you matched his roaring volume, not caring about the servants outside the building that might hear the commotion.

Sunghoon held a hand up, a silent order for you to cease your steps towards him, "Please, Y/N, listen to me for once."

"I have listened to you, your family, your mother, the whole nation the whole time!" you bellowed, coming face to face with him and swatting his hand away, you stare right into his eyes, challenging him into a duel.

"This time, it is you who should listen to me. Sunghoon, do you love me?" you inquired, your hands shaking, tears making your eyes glossy but you wouldn't back off now.

"You are a mere vessel for the next king, know your place. A foreign human like you isn't suitable for His Majesty, be grateful enough that you were graced with a royal bloodline in your country."

"Y/N, don't do this. I beg of you." Sunghoon rubbed his face in frustration, he doesn't want to fight with you. He doesn't want to face you like this.

"Sunghoon! I won't do thi-, I'll leave right now if you answer my question. I'll live alone, I won't bother you. I'll make the most of what I have to get by in the Decelis Palace only if you tell me what I'm asking for. Do you love me?!"

The way your voice broke in the middle of your sentence was what got to him.

He was fixing himself for you. He doesn't want to hurt you. He wanted to be with you when he's sure that he can protect you, take care of you. He'll go to you when he's sure that he can be the man that deserve you the most.

But you break him, shatter him like a bullet and the small rope that he's hanging on to was severed in half.

Sunghoon seethed, shouting at the top of his lungs, "I love you!"

taglist

@lilyuwon @ramenoil

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen x reader smut #sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon scenarios #park sunghoon #park sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon angst #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fanfic #heeseung imagines #jay imagines #jake imagines #sunoo imagines #jungwon imagines #niki imagines #enhypen fanfiction

[nunalastor]

Dark Forced Family/Overlord Found Family

Having Vox on the team might seem like an odd choice given his bad relationship with Alastor, but what sold it for the overlords that the risk was worth it was the power Vox shares with Alastor over radio waves. Vox has a way of communicating with Alastor that none of the others have, because Lucifer may have suppressed Alastor's magic into nonexistence, but he can't outright destroy it, that would cause unimaginable damage, and Lucifer may be crazy but even he knows taking that step is too far. But that means Alastor's power still exists, just suppressed, so if Vox can get close to him, he might be able to get a sense of what they're dealing with.

This wasn't relevant until the final fight with Lucifer. Zestial and Carmilla as the oldest overlord and the one with a shit ton of angel-killing weapons are at the front, with Rosie and Vox taking care of Alastor's body. Vox can feel how weak Alastor has become, he won't last the night if this continues, but that power is still there under the surface, he can feel it and if he really looked, he could see all of Alastor's pain.

He can't speak for Alastor, he can't wake Alastor on his own even if he tried. All he can do is use that to switch off safe mode and beat it into the king's head just how much pain Alastor is in. He is the overlord of technology, and one of his skills is communication, he can rub that in Lucifer's face as much as he has to if it means Alastor survives.

The fight isn't easy, between coming up with songs on the dime, Carmilla and Zestial dancing around, Charlie trying to defuse, and Rosie taking care of Alastor (she would fight but Alastor needs some blood to drink and to be as far from this fight as possible), but they see Vox's methods slowly making Lucifer break down. Vox doesn't need to say anything, just the aggression he is fighting with and a power Lucifer would know he shares with Alastor is enough to get the point across.

Until eventually, Lucifer stops fighting, and he seems to be on the brink of crying, though none of them can tell because his hat is shadowing most of his face. Before any of them can decide what to do, Lucifer quietly asks, "You'll take care of him?" None of them know how to answer to that, but figured the worst that would happen being honest was a continuation of the fight, so they confirm.

Lucifer snaps his fingers, and a gold chain around Alastor's neck appears, only to shatter in Lucifer's grip. Alastor's soul was free, and that included his magic that without warning caused the entire tower and hotel to be caught in a violent explosion.

The overlords get their bearings only a few moments later, looking around the hotel in ruin, all of its residents and the royal family whisked away to safety, and Alastor protected by a shield but left behind. Nobody knows what to think of what just happened. Was that it? Lucifer wised up and after everything... just stopped? What was going on?

Zestial convinces them the logistics don't matter right now. Alastor has his soul and his magic back, but he has yet to awaken. It would be best to provide him with emergency treatment either in the safety of Vee Tower or Cannibal Town.

The other overlords agree and Carmilla carries Alastor to get him to a hospital, but Zestial lingers behind for a moment, looking behind him and seeing Roo standing there. He thanks her for her assistance, and that is when Roo holds up a contract in her hand. "I was just fulfilling my end of the deal."

What Zestial hadn't told the others was that he had made a deal with Roo, selling his soul so she would say and do anything to convince Lucifer to let Alastor go, all he would need was a final push. He had a good run, and even if the deal was going to damn him in secret, at least his friends and his grandson had been able to survive.

👀

#hazbin hotel #nunalastor asks #dark forced family #overlord found family

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Drawn to you | Pt. 6

(A/N) There we go. I'm so sorry about not posting last week. A lot came up and I didn't find the time to write anything. Also, I really enjoy writing human!Alastor, more so than I thought, so there's gonna be more of that.

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: murder...yep, sexism, nightmare, flashback

Synopsis: Will he finally remember you?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

“Alastor?”

When did he fall asleep? As his eyes widened, he spun around and came face to face with Charlie. She looked concerned, one of her hands raised as if she was about to touch him, but hesitated.

“Ah, princess. What can I do for you?”

The demon got to his feet and swiped his clawed hands over his coat as if to smooth out any wrinkles. Now that he was standing, Charlie had to look up at him, a motion that had always given Alastor a feeling of power, but right now, all he could think about was you.

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in on the two of you and offer to give you a break. You’ve been in this room for days now.”

It’s true. He has been here for days. Watching you sleep and heal. Watching you slowly get better. And if he’s honest, it’s the only reason he hasn’t marched up to Valentino and beat him to pulp. So no, he didn’t want the princess to take over. He wouldn’t be able to take accountability for what happens if he leaves the room without you.

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather stay here.”

Her face fell, concern washing over it again. She opened her mouth, about to object, but a quiet whimper stopped her.

Alastor whipped around as soon as he heard the sound leave your lips and rushed to your bedside. You were thrashing around, your face distorted in fear. You were having a nightmare. Charlie joined Alastor at your side, but he quickly shooed her away, reasoning that the more people you saw once you woke up, the more you’d panic. She hesitated, but after a few seconds nodded and left the room.

The radio demon turned all his attention to you now, still battling with the blanket on top of you. He gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the mattress, trying to keep you from hurting him or yourself.

“It’s okay dear, I’m here.”

He continued to hold you down while whispering nonsense, trying to break past the panic of what you were experiencing at that moment and reach you. And it worked. You suddenly went limp, another whimper leaving your lips, but this time it was his name…but…not really his name.

“Ali…”

He blinked once…twice…three, no four times, his eyes glazing over as memories came rushing back to him. New Orleans…the radio station…and suddenly he felt the humid heat against his skin, the sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose and he pushed them back up again.

Earth - late 1910s

He stood before his workplace, the radio company where he took over the late airings. With his usual smile, he entered the well-air-conditioned building and made his way up to the offices, on a mission to find his favorite coworker.

He quickly spotted her, shoulders slumped as she read over a page. His cheerful smile lost most of its cheer, no longer reaching his eyes as he gazed upon her back. She deserved so much more than working for thankless, egotistical men who couldn’t appreciate her genius.

With quick steps, he closed the distance between himself and her and placed his hands over her eyes, his grin returning to it’s usual brightness.

“Guess who?”

The chuckle that escaped her lips made his heart beat faster, a soft blush covering his cheeks. It was the loveliest sound he’d ever heard and at the same he wished to keep that sound to himself, he wanted to broadcast it to the entire world.

“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”

His shoulders shook as a bubbly laugh escaped his lips. He rarely laughs, but with her, it felt natural. He leaned down slightly until he could whisper into her ear.

“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”

She shook her head and Alastor lowered his hands, as the woman spun around in her chair, smiling at him. And…it was you. He finally recognized you.

“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”

Gently, he took a hold of your right hand, guiding it to his lips to press a quick kiss against your knuckles, while you rolled your eyes. You always did but he still insisted on the gesture. After all, it was one of the only places he could kiss. At least for now.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”

As soon as you mentioned your boss, his eyes hardened and he glared at the office door that hid the fat man. If he could only kill him…maybe he would. In that moment he wondered how it felt to kill someone.

“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”

Your eyes widened at his comment you raised your hands to cover his mouth. But he just chuckled and lowered them slowly.

“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”

Alastor turned back to you with his signature smile. How adorble you were, always looking out for him.

“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”

He watched a light blush cover your cheeks. You lowered your head to hide it, but he still noticed. Of course he did, he noticed everything about you. That coy smile you were wearing right now. Your favorite perfume that he could always smell on you. How you always seemed to sit up straighter when he was near. And the excitment in your eyes when you see him.

Alastor chuckled again, before carefully ruffling through your hair, making sure not to destroy your hairdo too much. You started to complain, but before the first word could even slip past your lips, he had stopped and instead started to fix the mess he had made. Then he turned back to you.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?”

You reached for the pieces of paper on your desk and went through them, Alastor listening intently and taking notes in his head. He loved your ideas and often used them during his broadcast. Especially topics he knew you were passionate about.

“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”

Alastor nodded. He’d definitely have to mention that, especially after you turned to look at him with that sparkle in your eyes. He smiled, he loved that side of you. Excited and passionate. Something he rarely found in the women around him, something that drew him even closer to you.

His thoughts were interrupted when his name was called across the office space. He looked up and saw his boss waving him over. His eyes flickered to you and he saw the disappointment in them. And he understood it all too well, himself being annoyed that he had to leave you.

“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”

Knowing his boss didn’t like to be kept waiting, Alastor started to walk away while still facing you.

“I always do.”

Once again his heart fluttered at your words, a giant grin spreading across his lips before he turned and ran towards his boss who was already looking annoyed. As soon as Alastor was close enough, the other man started walking, keeping silent until they were out of the office.

“Well, is she your girl?”

Alastor looked at his boss, confusion plain on his face, but shook his head once the other man confirmed he was talking about you.

“Hm…in that case…maybe I’ll call her into my office then. You know, get to it. She’s a real cutie.”

Alastor would never admit it. He usually was more careful with his killings, but at the moment he saw red.

With a strained smile, he asked his boss if he’d like to go out for a smoke, his treat of course. Once the man agreed, Alastor led him out the back door, where no one ever was, and distracted him long enough for the radio host to grab a loose brick and whack him over the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out, but that wasn’t enough. If he could have, Alastor would have beaten the man to a pulp, but he couldn’t get any blood on his person, so he instead decided to use his belt to strangle him to death.

Once he was sure the man was dead, he got to his feet, breathing heavily while his lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin. Oh, how good that felt. He only wished he could’ve watched the panic in his eyes while he died.

Still, Alastor’s mind quickly returned to the task at hand. He had just killed someone in the alley behind where he worked. He’s not sure, but there was a possibility, that others saw them leaving together and then he’d be done for. His mind was racing as he thought of what to do. He had to stage the scene, that much was obvious, but how?

Burglary.

He quickly reached into his boss’s pants and pulled out his wallet, removing all the cash before dropping the empty wallet next to the body. Next, he removed the large, gold ring from the man’s little finger, as well as his pocket watch. The last touch was taking off the man’s belt and wrapping it around his neck in place of his own, just so that the police would think that it was used to murder him and not search for another one.

Once done, he stepped back, a proud smile on his lips as he pocketed the objects he had just taken. He could use those to remember this. His first kill. But surely not his last.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @dasimp777 @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts @mo-0-o @xalygatorx @fairyv-ice

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Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #alastor fanfic #alastor love