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#dim n bright
mika-meowz · 2 years
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Hello Paper Mario Fandom!
I have remade this OC of mine's reference sheet!
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tequiilasunriise · 10 months
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Okay yall lemme cook‼️‼️‼️
I really, really like the parallels of ‘she fainted and now I’ll fan her’ here with White Raven:
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Annabel caught Lenore when she almost fell and tried to remain in this untouched and happy facade while still subtly trying to fan Lenore because Annabel believed her to be upset and needed some air.
Lenore caught Annabel when girlypop straight up fainted and more obviously fans her in an attempt to care for Annabel, her face full of open concern for the fallen woman, there’s even a whole panel that draws attention to the fan specifically.
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Why does this even matter, you ask me? Because I love the stark contrasts between Lenore and Annabel, even down to the most minute details they’re opposites.
Annabel is trying to be more discreet in her affections for Lenore, her pretty smile and chipper words a diversion from the way she holds onto Lenore’s arm to steady her, bright eyes a complete distraction from the way her fan is flapping away. Her carefree attitude makes it seem like she could easily play off these attempts to care fer Lenore, like she could flippantly brush it off as ‘nothing big’ and that she ‘doesn’t really care this is just a throwaway whatever action’ (but we all know the calculative Annabel Lee doesn’t just do whatever fer just anyone).
On the complete opposite side of the spectrum, Lenore cares about Annabel. She cares a whole lot, actually, and she’s extremely open about it. From angrily calling Annabel a dratted liar fer claiming what they had to be fake to very clearly worrying about Annabel as she fans her. The delicate care, the way Lenore does not hesitate to grab that fan and start gently fanning Annabel, how she doesn’t try to set up a facade that gives her an ‘out’ if questioned why she’s doing all these things for Annabel. Lenore gives no shit about mindgames and appearances dude!!! Yeah she cares about Annabel, so what??? Lenore is just SOOOO acts of service as a love language, each time she reaches out is open declaration of, “love you love you love you”.
That kinda contrast kills me, man!!! Bright moon x dim sun, the sun does care but she needs to show it in a way where people don’t think she’s that invested you know you know she’s Just A Friend™️, meanwhile the moon says, “fuck it we ballllllll” and snitches her bleeding heart across her entire sleeve right before diving in with affections on full display.
That being said, I also really like how Annabel’s fanning is the last kindness she gave Lenore right before she left and Lenore ‘died’ and by sharp contrast Lenore’s fanning is one of the first kindness she gave Annabel when she came back from the ‘dead’ all resurrected like a funky butch lesbian Jesus.
Kindness as a last resort, as a final parting gift when the time’s up, vs kindness as an instinct, as a greeting call, as your first move.
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uwuinhell · 3 months
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Yo so I checked ao3 and apparently there's ZERO 2012 Donnie/reader coffee shop au fics??? Not even one??? Which is honestly a crime imo
SO I decided to do it myself. But I'm not currently proficient enough in writing fics to actually make anything. Maybe I just need to think about it more/harder...
So I'm writing a.. drabble.. headcannon.. thingamajiggy.. idk what they're called, honestly.
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2012 TMNT Donatello x Reader Coffee shop au ✨
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You work at a café, maybe a small mom and pop place, maybe one of a corporate line.
Maybe the café you work at is in a poorly-maintained area of the city and there's frequent power glitches.
(The café is used to this and is prepped for this scenario with at least one generator for all the appliances. As well as an abundance of candles and flashlights, which don't provide Fantastic lighting but it's enough to make by while they wait for power to come back.)
Donnie comes more often and stays a bit longer during these black outs. Otherwise he has only ever ordered to-go.
Donnie also prefers to come when it's less busy. Which is understandable, you don't like large amounts of people either.
Donnie disguises himself with a large hoodie (+ face mask?) and probably pants too. Or maybe a skirt, that'd be cute, I think.
Maybe he hides his hands with mittens or gloves. He'll play off the lack of fingers, if he's wearing gloves, saying it's because of an accident.
If he doesn't wear gloves or mittens he'll keep his hands in his pockets most of the time.
His skin is "like that because of a skin condition" he'll say. He only has 3 fingers because of a deformity, he'll say.
He either pays with straight cash or with a cash-app card. (Because how is a turtle gonna get money??) (The cash is taken from villains or found on the streets)
You don't question his behavior much, writing it off as him being insecure or shy or something.
After he returns a few more times you guys chat more and he meets you on your break to talk more.
After weeks, maybe months of him coming by to get his caffeine hit, it becomes your guy's normal to chill and chat on your breaks.
He also visits and hangs out before the café opens and after it closes sometimes.
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shotmrmiller · 1 month
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johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.
he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.
and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.
the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.
a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)
"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."
excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."
"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."
you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—
"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.
"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."
-
damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.
he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.
you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.
lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.
double damn.
"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—
"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."
when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.
-
the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.
simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—
his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.
the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.
"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."
somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.
"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"
the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.
he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.
the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.
as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.
"hush."
you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"
you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.
wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.
the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.
"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.
"gonna beg?"
the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.
you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."
the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.
"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.
he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.
and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.
"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.
"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—
the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.
"ya with me?"
you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.
"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.
simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—
"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?
"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.
"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."
he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.
his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.
he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."
that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.
his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.
your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.
"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."
your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—
and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.
"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."
there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.
simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"
he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.
simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.
"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.
it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.
simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—
"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."
there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.
"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."
a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.
you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.
your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.
your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.
(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)
his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.
and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."
"pet."
"please stop looking at me like that."
he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.
"make me."
-
as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.
your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.
when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.
good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.
sent 5:30 am
about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.
sent 5:49 am
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joelsgreys · 1 month
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baby, i’m yours
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.
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Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.
“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.
“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”
“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.
Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.
He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.
Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.
Baby, I'm yours
and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky
yours until the rivers all run dry
in other words, until I die
He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.
Joel wants to be annoyed. 
Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.
You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.
Baby, I’m yours
and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines
yours until the poets run out of rhyme
in other words, until the end of time
Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.
Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.
Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.
Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.
“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.
“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”
Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”
“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”
“Sure.”
He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.
Fucking Christ. 
You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?
Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.
For being so, so fucking good for him.
He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really. 
You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.
He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.
Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?
He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.
You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.
The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.
“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”
Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.
Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”
“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.
“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”
Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.
“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”
“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.
Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.
Could it be that you’re actually content with him?
Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis. 
“I’m gonna stay right here by your side
do my best to keep you satisfied
nothing in this world can drive me away
‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”
It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”
You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”
“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”
Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.
“Because I don’t want anyone else.”
“You deserve better.”
You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”
“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”
“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”
Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”
His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.
“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”
His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”
You sigh.
“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”
The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.
You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”
“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”
Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.
It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.
Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.
After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”
“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”
It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.
He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”
“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.
Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.
“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”
You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”
You say it over and over again and he believes it.
He finally fucking believes it.
Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.
“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”
“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”
“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”
When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.
“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”
Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”
Joel grins. “And your point is?”
You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.
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aerynwrites · 4 months
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Dreams Become Reality
Gale Dekarios x Fem!Reader
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A/N: FINALLY got this finished lmao. Posted a teaser of this weeks ago and it has been sitting in my drafts ever since staring at me as I stared back it. Type a few words. Stop for a few says. Few more words, an even longer break. And so on lol. But it’s finally here! Based on the request.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, NSFW, smut, Reader is described as having female anatomy, fingering, gale comes untouched (kinda), choking, wet dreams, inappropriate use of Mage Hand, fluff and slight aftercare at the end.
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The air around you is thick. 
Thick with tension. Thick with the warm breaths leaving both your lips. Thick with the smell of arousal. 
It’s all consuming - Gale, is all consuming. Surrounding and overtaking your every sense. 
The scent of him fills your nose - sandalwood, and old books, and right now, sweat. The exertion has made a thin layer form on his skin as his body slides against your own. 
Gale surrounds you in every way, cocooning you between his body and the sheets, his lips very rarely leaving your skin as he moves with you, thrusting his hips against your own, bringing you closer and closer to the edge you long to jump off of. 
“Gale…” 
His name falls from your lips in a whispered prayer, begging for more as he responds with a soft groan of his own. 
He calls your name, and you whine in response. But then he calls it again, the sound falling in a gasp from his lips as one of his hands reaches up to clasp your shoulder in tight grip. 
He calls your name again and this time darkness crashes around you as you startle awake in bed. 
Your sleep clothes cling uncomfortably to your sweat-damp skin. Blood rushes in your ears as your chest rises and falls with effort to suck in air. And worst of all is the ache in your core, arousal burning bright in your belly from what you now realize was a dream. 
Another gentle squeeze to your shoulder makes your eyes finally fall to Gale, who sits beside you in the bed and appears positively flustered. 
He’s as short of breath as you are, chest stuttering as he gazes at you, eyes wide. You look him over quickly, and even in the darkness of the room you’re able to see the way his pupils are blown wide with lust and dark flush on his cheeks. And, you definitely don't miss the sight of him hard beneath the covers. 
“Shit…” you mutter, your own face heating up as you realize what happened. 
“Did I wake you?” you ask softly, trying and failing to tamp down the images from your dream. “I was…I’m sorry-“
Gale shakes his head, his hand falling down to lace his fingers with yours as his lips tilt up in a small smile. 
“No need for apologies,” he tells you, ever so slightly leaning in. “Most people would consider that a compliment. When their partner dreams of them in such a manner, well - at least, I hope it was me that was plaguing your dreams considering it was my name falling from your lips-“ 
You cut him off as you lunge for him, covering his mouth with your hand as you shush him, embarrassment swelling in your chest. 
“Do you ever stop talking?” 
Gale hums beneath your hand, and reaches up to pull it away from his mouth. You expect him to respond but instead, suddenly, he flips you over and presses you back into the mattress, his body hovering over yours as his hands hold your own beside your head. 
“I do indeed know when to hold my tongue but…” He pauses for a moment, and you blink in surprise as a candle on the bedside table ignites with a wave of his hand, casting you both in a dim glow before he continues. 
“I find myself most curious as to what had you calling my name like that even in the deepest sleep.” 
Gods, you feel at war with yourself. The embarrassment creeping up your neck and heating your cheeks, clashing with the arousal still burning bright in your veins. The images from your dream flash behind your eyes as they slip closed, yet the thought of voicing them makes you shrink into the covers. 
As if sensing your hesitancy, Gale is the first to act, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss, lips moving against yours before he pulls away just slightly, nose brushing your own. 
“How about I guess, hm?” he asks, his voice low as one of his hands lets go of one of yours. 
His fingers brush against the shell of your ear, traveling lower over your neck, down over your shoulder to brush against your clothed breast. Your breath hitches with the contact, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as Gale’s lips tilt upward ever so slightly. 
“Was I touching you here?” he asks, voice a mere whisper as his thumb rubs over the stiff peak of your nipple. “Or perhaps it was…here…”
His hand leaves your chest in favor of slipping ever downwards, toying with the thin fabric of your underwear beneath your sleeping gown. 
Without much thought, you nod your head, a moan slipping past your lips as the heat of your arousal burns brighter. 
Gale’s eyes twinkle with triumph, and instead of leaving him with that satisfaction, another flash from your dreams makes you speak before that earlier embarrassment can creep back up. 
“But…there was something else…” you manage to say, your voice soft as your cheeks blaze with heat. 
Gale’s head tilts to the side ever so slightly at your words, brows winging up in surprise as he stills. 
“Oh?” he breathes. “Now I must know what was going on in that beautiful head of yours.” 
Despite your best effort, something akin to shame wells up in your chest, regret at ever saying anything invading your mind. But Gale’s unadulterated interest, that ever present curiosity in his gaze, practically begs you to please him by voicing your fantasies. 
You let out a shaky sigh. “What if…what if you think it’s…what if you don’t like it?” you ask sheepishly. 
Gale lets out a small chuckle, eyes soft as his free hand retreats from between you to rest encouragingly against your hip, squeezing gently. 
“My love,” he says quietly. “I can assure you that you will receive no wayward looks or reprimands from me. Your desires and fantasies are your own, I must admit - but dare I say I would be more than eager to help you fulfill them.” 
His words soothe you slightly, but that doubt is still present, and Gale must know you’re about to protest when your lips part, because he stops you with another kiss. 
“I assure you,” he says as he pulls away just enough to hover over you. “If for any reason I am not comfortable I will make it known. Just as I would expect you to do if our positions were reversed.” 
You manage a small nod, muscles quivering in subdued excitement as you reach down to take the hand at your hip slowly bringing it back on your body. 
“You were touching me there,” you say softly, voice sultry with arousal. “But you were also…here.”
Your nerves are still tingling with a tinge of uncertainty as you guide his hand to the base of your throat. 
A shiver passes the through you as the calloused palm of his hand brushes over the delicate skin, his fingers twitching in surprise as you gently press them to wrap around the sides of your neck. 
You watch through lowered lashes for his reaction, your heart tittering when his breath hitches, eyes widening and going dark with lust all at once. 
For just a brief moment, you expect him to pull away, but Gale - as usual - surprises you. His fingers flex, pressing just a bit firmer into the pulse points of your neck, his palm placing just the barest of pressure to your throat, making your already labored breathing come out ragged as a moan slips past your lips. 
“Gods above…” Gale groans, leaning up so his lips hover over your own. “This is what you dreamt of? My hands on your skin, bringing you pleasure while also toying with the slightest bit of danger?” 
He presses his fingers in deeper, not enough to leave marks or completely cut off air, but more than before and enough to make you acutely aware of the blood pumping beneath his fingers, and the breath straining through your throat. 
You can feel new wetness pooling between your thighs, joining the arousal already present from your obscene dreamscape.
And Gale…Well, he seems just as affected as you are. His hips have slotted against your own, pushing up your nightgown as he presses himself against you. 
All you can manage is a small nod to his question, not sure you’d be able to speak if you wanted to. Ecstasy courses through your veins, buzzing delightfully and fanning those flames burning deep in your core even higher as his hand tightens just that much more around your throat. 
Another moan works its way up your throat, this time getting stuck before it can fully pass your lips, the sound smothered by the pressure again your neck. 
Gale lets out another sinful sound, his hips pressing more incessantly against your own, enough that you can feel the hardness of him against your clothed center. 
Just when you think he’s had enough, that all too familiar heated look in his eyes, he pauses. 
Your brows furrow as his grip against your throat loosens as he mutters an unintelligible incantation. You go to question him, but you hear his answer before you even voice the question. 
His voice is smooth in your mind, as if he’s speaking directly to you, his lips never moving. 
‘I don’t want there to be any question of if you’re able to stop me.’ His thought comes into your mind as easily as if he were speaking, and your eyes widen. 
“Detect thoughts?” you ask, shocked at the brilliance of the idea. 
Now neither of you need to physically speak to communicate, thus no fear for Gale if you need to stop. 
Gale smiles, leaning down to capture you lips in a searing kiss. 
‘Exactly,’ he says in your mind. ‘And now…there is no need for my lips to leave your skin, no distractions from fulfilling that dream of yours…’
“Gale, please-“ you beg aloud, your patience now gone, and your only desire being him touching you, taking you in the way he was before your dream was snatched from your unconscious hands. 
Gale chuckles, lips breaking from yours to travel lower, nipping at your jaw and trailing featherlight kisses down your neck. 
‘Though I must admit…those words sound much sweeter falling from your lips than floating through my mind.’
He continues his path downwards, no doubt leaving behind ample evidence of his attentions, until he’s stopped in his tracks by the collar of your sleep clothes. It’s then that you both finally move to divest yourselves of the offending articles. 
Your hands move frantically against Gale’s velvet shirt, the fabric clinging to your hands as you bunch it up to eventually tug it over his head. His pants are not far behind, the renowned wizard helping you with those before his lips are on you once more, only parting from you as he removes your nightgown, the fabric forcing you to separate for just a moment before you claim him again. 
It feels like déjà vu as Gale presses you back into the mattress, his body caging you in, cocooning you in a heady warmth as his scent surrounds you. 
Flashes of your dream come to mind once more, and you’re forced to swallow the moan that Gale lets out, his teeth nipping gently at your bottom lip as he begs for entrance. 
You grant his silent request eagerly, moaning unabashedly agsint him as his tongue presses forward to glide against your own. 
Gale has always been a giving lover, desperate to show you how much he loves you when his words sometimes fail him. Even now you can tell he’s hells bent on indulging your fantasies. But it feels different…It feels as if he’s more eager than usual. His lips less precise, his fingertips digging just a bit harder into your hips…
He’s ravenous. 
And who are you to complain? 
Sensing your thoughts, you can feel Gale smile agsint your lips, his voice flooding your mind once more as you open your own to the spell.
“Ravenous, indeed,” he affirms, his hand snaking it’s way back up your sternum, closing deftly around your throat as he pulls away only to gaze down at you. 
His lips are swollen from your charred kisses, chest quickened with short pants, eyes blown wide with lust as he fully takes you in beneath him. 
“I have seen your desires in your minds eye,” he says aloud, voice drenched in pure sin. “But perhaps I may make a suggestion?”
You can only nod, a whimper slipping past your lips as his fingers tighten against your pulse point, teasing you with the barest hint of pressure. 
He smiles down at you - a wicked cunning thing, and you can’t help the way the coil in your belly pulls ever more taut, blood hot with ecstasy at the gleam in his eyes. 
He leans back down, another soft incantation falling from his lips before they capture your own again, and he’s speaking in your mind again just as a ghostly touch brushes against the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 
“With my hands most occupied-“ he flexes his hand against your throat, finally giving you the pressure you wish for as his other hand support himself beside your head. “I’ll need another to assist.”
He gives you no true warning before you feel a hand at your center, palm pressed agsint your clit as two fingers drag agonizingly slow through your slick folds. 
Gale’s hand cuts off the moan that bubbles up in your throat, lips swallowing what little sound does slip through, as your hips buck up into his own. 
Mage hand.
You barely have time to register that the sneaky bastard had cast the spell before the extension of himself is teasing you one more, pressing against that bundle of nerves before moving down to sink two fingers into you. 
Gale presses his fingers deeper into the sides of your throat as you groan once more - both from the magic pleasuring you and the rush in your head from the way he chokes you. 
You don’t even realize how close you were to the edge until this moment. The pressure building in your core and in your head feeling like too much in the best way possible. 
Everything feels like it’s been dialed to one hundred. The threads of the sheets beneath your skin, the smell of Gale surrounding you, the way his lips brush against your cheek when he breaks from the kiss, the fingers moving inside of you - brushing against that spot that makes you see stars.
You can feel the way his breath comes out in short bursts, the air warm against your dewy skin as he presses his body into your own. 
It’s just like your dream again. Him cocooning you entirely, his smell making your mouth water, his hand against your throat making your head pound, and his magic finally throwing you over the edge. 
You come with little warning to the wizard above you, but you’re sure he is able to tell. Whether it be from your jumbled thoughts no doubt being shouted at him from your connection, or the fact that he knows you so well…He’s prepared. 
As you tumble over that precipice, Gale applies just a little more pressure to your throat, enough so you can still gain air, but just barely.
You can feel your pulse pounding beneath his fingertips, your breath scratching against your throat as ecstasy consumes you. It feels as if pure starlight ignites in your veins, a ragged moan breaking through as you arch up into the body above you, seeking more from your lover as he does the same, grinding his hips into yours.
Gale reaches his own end virtually untouched, the mere friction from your body against his and the pure pleasure of indulging your fantasy has him spending himself on your stomach with a groan. 
His grip around your neck loosens before disappearing entirely as he all but collapses against you, uncaring of the mess between you two as he slips strong arms around you before rolling to the side, taking you along with him. 
It’s a few moments before either of you speak, and you realize both the mage hand and the detect thought spells have ended. No doubt Gale’s own end brought about the disruption of his concentration. But when words finally come, it’s Gale who speaks first. 
His fingers brush against your neck gently, barely a whisper of skin against skin as he takes a deep breath. 
“I fear I may have gotten carried away,” he says softly, brows furrowed in concern as you pull away just enough to look at him. 
You reach up, your fingers bumping against his own and can feel the way your skin burns just slightly hotter where his hand was earlier. There must be faint marks of your activities, and you have to try to quell the new stab of arousal that shoots through you. 
“You didn’t,” you assure him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “It was perfect.”
His face relaxes at your words, lips tugging upwards slightly. 
“Yes, well…Next time perhaps you can indulge me with your deepest fantasies verbally, instead of waking me in the middle of the night.”
You raise a questioning brow at him, hands sliding up until you can slide your arms around his neck.
“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself?” 
Gale scoffs, nearly choking on air. “By the gods, no!” He says, aghast. “I’m simply saying that perhaps, in the future, we can disclose our fantasies more readily…So we may indulge as we please.”
You hum softly, eyes widening at his words. 
“Our fantasties?” You question, watching as a blush starts to tinge the wizard's cheeks.
“Ah, well - ehm - Yes. You didn’t think you’re the only one with uh…secret desires, did you?”
Slowly, you move so that Gale is laid out beneath you as you straddle his wait, hands planted on his chest as you gaze down at him. 
“And…what would your fantasies be?”
Gale pauses for a moment, unsure. But you lean down to press a quick kiss to his cheek, before pulling back, a smirk on your lips.
“Come, my love,” you tease. “How about I guess, hm?”
Gale lets out a soft groan at your repeat of his earlier jest, and you can’t help but laugh as his hands come up to settle on your hips. You lean down to kiss him properly this time and can’t stop the excitement pooling in your belly once more. 
The night is still young, and you have a feeling that there is much more to discover.
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
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tw - afab!reader, non/con, implied drug use, breeding kinks, obsessive/delusional behavior, gojo talks about his ex during sex and you can't change my mind. happy valentine's day <3
“This is my first Valentine’s with somebody to celebrate with, y’know.”
Satoru’s slow, melodic voice was just barely outpaced by his idle movements – his hips rolling lazily against yours, each thrust more languid and lethargic than the last. His blunt nails dug into your skin where his hands had your wrists pinned over your head, and somehow, he’d managed to turn the feeling of satin sheets against your back into something rough and cutting. The taste of chocolate and bitter wine clung to the inside of your mouth, but you shouldn’t have been drunk enough for your thoughts to be this clouded, this muddled. A few hours ago, you’d been sure that amount of wine could ever get you into bed with Gojo Satoru, and yet, here you were, suffering silently underneath him as fuck you like he had all the time in the world.
“I mean, there was Suguru, but he wasn’t really the romantic type. I’d be lucky to get a box of chocolates, n’ I was still the one handing out most of the affection. To little thanks, of course.” Were you in his bedroom? You had to be. This was definitely his bed, and with your head lulled to the side, you could see scattered tea candles littered over dressers and bedside tables, forgotten clothes left in crumpled piles on the carpeted floor. You might’ve been wrong, though. When he wasn’t on campus, Satoru lived in a luxury apartment – the best money could buy. Luxury apartments didn’t have bars over the windows and locks on every door. “Not that I mind spoilin’ you,” he backtracked, his voice taking on the faintest notes of a teasing inflection. “It’s just—It’s nice to feel appreciated, sometimes. Suguru was always the selfish type. I’m sure you’ll be a lot sweeter with me, though.”
One of his hands fell away from your wrists, soon reappearing at your chin. Taking you by the jaw, he eased your head back, forcing you to face him properly. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, let alone a proper blindfold, and even in the dim light, his star-bright eyes were almost unbearable to meet. You tried to jerk out of his hold, to straighten your back, but your body refused to respond, your limbs little more than dead weight and numbing static. The only part of yourself that you could feel was your pussy – soaked and hot and vice-like around his cock. You wanted it to stop, to go dry, to make this as unpleasant for him as it was for you, but his public bone scraped against your clit and instead, you clenched around him. A low groan bubbled past Satoru’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut as he bowed his head and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Already bein’ sweet with me,” he babbled, now partially muffled by proximity. “Just wanna be my little sweetheart, huh? Wanna be good to me?”
His pace picked up, his hips starting to move against yours in earnest. The force seemed to knock some intangible block out of your throat, and suddenly, little whines and whimpers were flooding out of you, cracked moans trickling past your lips in little, stunted hiccups. You tried to spit something coherent out, to tell him to slow down, to get off of you, to stop, but your tongue was too heavy and your lips wouldn’t cooperate and all you managed was a string of pained gibberish, dented and beaten by pitiful, dazed sounds. Satoru only cooed in response, nipping at your collarbone, the curve of your neck. “So, so good for me.” He drew back, leaving just enough distance between you to slot his lips against yours. His tongue raked over yours, and by the time he pulled back, he was breathless and you were dazed beyond any hope of full consciousness. If he was bothered by your glassy eyes, though, your slack features, you couldn’t tell. He was smiling when he pulled away, his expression nearly as gaze as your own. “Hey, baby…”
If you were able to, you would’ve screamed.
“If I knock you up, think we can do this again next year?”
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hazenllas · 2 months
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Mommy's Girl
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pairing: Regina George x fem!reader
Contains: smut, Eating out (r! Receiving) Dom! Regina, Regina being mean but it's like hot, fluff, Jealous Regina, I think that's all!
Apologies for any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language.
Summery: nobody knows you and Regina are in a relationship. But when Regina sees someone trying to hit on you, she shows everyone who you belong to.
"Fuck baby, I missed you so much." Regina mumbles against your soft lips. "Mhm, I missed you more." You kiss Regina's lips hungrily. She grabs at your hips and you grind yourself against her. She puts her hands up your black oversized hoodie. You moan at the cold sensation of her fingertips against your breasts. Your head thuds against the wooden door feeling Regina's manicured hands massage your tits in a messy rhythm. You grab her face and kiss her with passionate and lust. "Hey we will pick this up later m'kay? If not I won't be able to keep my hands off of you." Regina kisses your neck and you thank the dim light of the janitor's closet because your face reddened with a soft pink tint. You nod with a bright smile and tumble out of the small room and readjust your sweater Regina had been messing with just earlier. At lunch you go to your usual spot where Janis and Damian were sitting. You sat down and vegan eating your salad. You look over at Regina's table to see her already staring at you with a smirk. She winks and turns back to her friends sitting with her. "So what's with you and Regina, Y/n" Janis asks playing with her fries. "W-what? What do you mean?" You shoot up at the girl infront of you with widened eyes. "I mean you're both always looking at eachother like you want to fuck eachother's brains off in a good way" You look at her and take a deep breath. "Listen you guys. I've been keeping this a secret for the longest time but, me and Regina are like together. We've been together for a few months but she doesn't feel ready to announce it publicly yet." You say holding your hands in a fingers crossed motion. "No way girl! How come you never told us?" Damian looks at you with the widest eyes you've ever seen. "I dunno, I guess I didn't want to risk anything." You shrug and continue to eat your salad. After school you quickly head to Regina's house. You knock on the door and find Regina on the other side. "Come on in baby, my parents aren't home yet." You nod and you both run towards her room like little girls. Once you both get in there Regina slams you against the door and you gasp in surprise. "Missed me that bad huh?" You jokingly say as Regina starts to leave bitemarks on your neck. "Oh shut up loser." Regina laughs and takes your baggy clothing off. She throws you on the bed and towers over you. "Fuck I miss this body baby." Regina kisses your body as she goes lower and lower to where you want her the most. "Please mommy." You groan and Regina smirks at you. She starts to kiss at your plush tight and looks up at you fit consent. You quickly nod and Regina wastes no time to lick a long strip through your pussy. Your body arches back and you hear Regina chuckle darkly. She continues to eat you out until you start to feel that familiar knot in your stomach. "Fuck mommy, I'm gonna cum" You manage to squeal out. "Fucking cum for me baby." As soon as Regina says these words you completely snap and ride out your high. Regina cleans you up and lays beside you. Regina gets a phone call and she quickly picks it up. You look up at Regina and then after she's talking on the phone she looks down at you. "I'm sorry baby, Gretchen, Karen, and Cady want to hang out this afternoon. I'm sorry." You quickly get your cloths on and look at her with a smile. "It's okay Gina,I have a ton of stuff to study tonight anyways." Regina nods and gives you a kiss on the cheek.
After getting home you decide to call one of your friends Bea to study with. To your surprise, she is throwing a party and asked you to come. You agreed and began getting ready. Once you got there you saw many drunk teens scattering the place. You settle in the kitchen and stare at your sprite. That is until a random girl who you don't know walks up to you. "Hey sweetheart, you with anyone?" You look up at her and shake your head. "Uh no actually. I was just invited here." You stand there awkwardly. You could tell she was drunk. She looked at you with hungry eyes and leans in to kiss you. Until she is shoved away by Regina. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Regina stands over the girl with fire in her eyes. "Shit uh Regina! This is uh this is my girlfriend!" You look at the girl who's on the ground with wide eyes. "Oh really? Let's see about that." Regina smirks and pulls you into a heavy kiss. You moan as you feel Regina put her hands over the space just above your ass. The girl on the ground looks at you both with scared eyes and runs off. Regina pulls away and laughs. You can't help but laugh with her. "Her fault, she should've known who you belong to." Regina pulls you in for one more kiss until she leads you into an empty bedroom.
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deafsignifcantother · 3 months
Text
the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid
♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness ♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino ♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary
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Vox
♥ word count: 1.9k ♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public
It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.
Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.
Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?
.
Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.
Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.
GO TO SLEEP
With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.
DON'T TRY
Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.
[Y/N]. The television shakes.
You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remove down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.
"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."
He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.
The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.
"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.
You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.
.
With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.
You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.
At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.
Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.
You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.
.
He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.
If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.
With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.
Vox furrows his brow at the sight.
You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.
"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.
"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."
She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"
You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"
Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.
Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?
The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.
"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"
Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.
"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.
"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."
What do you even say to that? I hope so.
"The happiest."
"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"
Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"
You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"
The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.
At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.
With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.
You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.
He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.
.
"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.
You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.
He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.
Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.
Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.
He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.
Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.
"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."
"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.
You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.
He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.
Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."
Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.
.
.
.
Velvette
♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: reader speaks, part scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too ♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now
Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.
You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.
She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.
You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.
.
Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.
She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.
Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).
She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.
She even got you two matching bracelets.
You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.
The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.
You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.
.
Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.
The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.
But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.
You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.
His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.
"Oh wow." He says.
Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."
He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.
After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.
She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."
"Thanks to you."
"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.
You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.
The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.
But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.
"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.
You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.
"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.
Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.
In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."
Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."
Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.
Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.
True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.
At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.
Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?
"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.
The crowd splits into two.
Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.
.
She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."
You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."
She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.
.
.
.
Valentino
♥ word count: 1.7k ♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description
Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.
Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.
His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.
Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.
"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.
Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.
He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"
He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.
You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."
With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.
He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.
And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.
"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).
“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”
“Which is why I came to visit.” 
The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before). 
“What?” You ask.
“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.
“You’re staring at me.”
“I can’t resist.”
“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame. 
He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”
When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips. 
“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.
After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.
You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.
Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.
He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.
Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.
You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.” 
Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?
She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.
But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."
You smile and start turning away. "Good."
Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.
"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."
Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?
She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"
Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.
"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.
She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."
You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.
So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"
At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.
Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.
You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.
Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.
He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.
All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.
The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.
He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."
You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.
One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.
He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.
When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.
He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.
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wyniepooh · 4 months
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Miss
coriolanus misses his family and the many capitol luxuries, but the person he misses the most, is right here in the districts.
peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x district reader. Forbidden love, sneaking around, tension. Mentions of guns! Corio has to pretend nothing is going on between him n the reader, tries to do a professional pat down on reader, but obvi does a little more bc he’s kinda obsessed.
"excuse me, miss."
your shared laughter with a local salesman dissipated as quickly as how it had originally started. the air around you seemed to chill, although the sun was still as present as ever, providing a warmth your thin sweater couldn't compare with.
you turned around, breath hitching when you focused on the familiar blue eyes you were just staring into a couple nights ago. His pristine grey uniform contrasted with the wrinkled, blue outfit you usually saw him in, and you almost giggled at how serious he looked. your lips began to curve, and your feet were moving before he could say another word.
"cori-"
"we're here for our regular checkup. making sure you don't have any illegal substances or dangerous objects on hand."
you paused in your steps, breathing out a gentle 'oh’ while the brightness on your face dimmed. coriolanus turned to another peacekeeper behind him, giving him a nod to approach the old man behind you. while he began lazily patting down the man, coriolanus placed a light hand on your forearm.
"follow me," he whispered.
You trailed behind him, observing the firm grip he had on his gun, and the confident strides he had with his black boots and solid helmet. It was hard to believe that this was a man you had shared endless laughs with, a man you've felt breathlessly on your lips, your chest, and on your neck.
He halted when he reached a curved wall a few feet away from his comrade, giving him one last look before breathing a sigh of relief. He turned towards you, letting the gun strap fall from his shoulders and resting the bottom on the ground.
"Turn around and face the wall."
Your brows furrowed and your mouth fell agape.
You had thought he was taking you somewhere private, somewhere you could both be alone and finish your conversation from last night. But hearing his stern words echo, it was clear that that was not in his plans.
Seeing your shocked expression, he silently tilted his chin back towards a group of more serious-looking peacekeepers standing guard behind him, guns aimed and eyes searching for sight of anything— a trick, a mishap, an accident.
Anything that would give them an opportunity to warm up their weapons.
You sighed, gently rolling your eyes as you turned away from coriolanus, stepping closer to the gray, concrete wall. You heard his footsteps approaching behind you, slow and a little hesitant.
"Hands on the wall," he muttered.
You almost jumped when you heard his voice, which was surprisingly close to your ear and oh-so-reminiscent. You tilted your head with annoyance, but complied, resting both of your palms on the cold, gritty surface above your head.
You felt his hands on your shoulders first. They did a quick, professional sweep over both your arms and hands before traveling down your back. He paused at your waist, both hands cupping the curvature, his thumb rubbing circles at the tender flesh of your hip.
"I miss you," he breathed.
So quietly, so faintly that you would've missed it had you not been completely still.
You wanted to reach back, to see his face and to relax your hand on his. But you could feel too many pairs of eyes on you to do what you truly wanted.
"I miss you, too,” you responded in the same, hushed, tone.
coriolanus began to crouch down, his warm breath hitting your thigh when he did so. Shivers spread from your shoulders to your toes, your bottom lips slipping between your teeth as your nails dug into the wall.
He dragged his hands down both of your legs, slower than what was acceptable, hands lingering on your ankle for longer than needed. time didn’t exist in the moment. you closed your eyes and relished in the comfort of his warm hand, imagining that you were both back on the dance floor, his arm around your waist, your arms around his neck.
A single finger dragged up the side of your body as he finally stood up. You were both quiet for a second. Suddenly, he exhaled sharply, patting the small of your waist to signal for you to turn.
As you did, you were almost afraid to look into his eyes. Afraid that once you did, you wouldn't be able to look away. but when your eyes finally did connect, he looked the same as he did last night. He was the coriolanus from last night. he opened his mouth to speak, but was stopped by a sudden smack on the back.
"all done, private snow?"
coriolanus turned and saluted, gloved hand hitting the hard material of his helmet. "yes, sir."
The higher up stood in silence while giving you a quick scan, mouth twisted like he had just eaten something sour. After a suffocating minute, he finally spoke again. "Alright. Gather the others and return to your quarters for further instructions."
coriolanus saluted him again, eyes finding yours again only when the commander had long disappeared beyond your vision.
but once he did, his previous gaze returned. Blue eyes glossy, lips parted and hands clenching the strap of his gun so tightly his knuckles turned white. He swerved his head cautiously towards the peacekeepers, you joining him in observation.
He looked back with only one intention in mind.
He captured your breath in an instant, both of his hands cupping the side of your face while his thumb grazing the bottom of your chin. His helmet sunk painfully into your forehead, but that only motivated you to push your lips further into his. You placed a hand on his chest, fingers clenching and grasping at the fabric of his shirt.
The moment was over before it had really even started.
He pulled back abruptly, eyes still closed and mouth still hungry. You gently opened your eyes, squinting as you adjusted to the bright sunlight. Coriolanus' lips were swollen and wet, red from the sudden and brutal force and shiny from the remnants of you. His chest heaved up and down. He slowly backed away.
"See you next time, miss,” he sputtered, breath still wavering. He looked away. With a twirl and a cloud of sand, he had marched away.
"Next time," you muttered to his shadow.
You sighed, stepping away from the corner and out into the open market once more. You took a few steps, and then your strides faltered.
With furrowed brows, you reached down to your shoe. A combination of a gasp and a chuckle escaped your mouth when you pulled out a square of neatly folded paper from the back of your heel.
Miss you. Need you. Midnight, tonight. Meet me at our spot.
-
A/n: im a sucker for forbidden love anything lolz!!
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mika-meowz · 1 year
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Pspspspsps any followers of mine or just tag explorers that like Brightlight, I got somethin to share with yall
I actually have a short animation of them on my YouTube
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Its a little old now but I hope yall like it if you wanna check it out
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luv4kozume · 3 months
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💓 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 — CHRIS STURNIOLO
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— # ❝ 𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭,
𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲 ! ❞ 🎧 ₊˚⊹
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FWB!Chris x Fem!Reader
Contains: Loosely based off Creeping by Lil Skies; swearing, f!masturbation if you squint, pet names (baby, pretty girl, ma), brief sexting/sending nudes, teasing, begging, praise, choking if you squint, fingering, oral f!receiving, overstimulation + multiple f!orgasms, bondage (wrists), doggy, unprotected sex, squirting + creampie, friends w benefits. Semi-proof read!
Synopsis: A story in which you can’t satisfy yourself the way Chris does. You text him in the middle of the night and he’s more than happy to lend you a helping hand and more.
Word Count: 2,888+
a/n: FOR MY WIFE @gamermattsgf , ENJOY BABY, YOU DESERVE THE WORLD AND MORE!! Show my girl some love, she’s so fucking talented fr!! 💗💗💗
This is probably the longest, filthiest, juiciest smut I’ve ever written (next to Generous, it’s definitely the same kinda vibe).
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*:・゚✧ 💌 *:・゚✧
11:55 P.M. ₊˚⊹
The moon’s dim light crept through the small cracks in the blinds, the white hue outlining each curve of yours.
Your broken whines and moans bounced off your bedroom walls as you were sprawled out with your legs spread.
There you were, wearing nothing but Chris’ pink, fresh love tee— the same one he had left over your apartment just the other day.
The subtle scent of his cologne still lingered on the fabric, only making your heart throb for more. Wishing that he was here to help you instead of having to do everything yourself.
Chris spoiled the fuck out of you whenever you were together. Showering you with praises, leaving gentle kisses from head to toe, being rough when you asked and even pulling multiple orgasms out of you.
Whatever you desired he was more than happy to provide, all you had to do was say the word.
However, you couldn’t help but feel just a tad bit guilty.
Although there was an agreement with the whole “remaining friends with a few perks” thing, you still felt awkward to blatantly ask him for sex.
You took it upon yourself to try to satisfy your needs alone, assuming that he was probably busy anyway. But truth be told, it was just so much better when he did it.
A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips as you dragged out both your fingers from your core, completely coated in your arousal.
One of Chris’ features that just so happened to be one of your favorites was his hands— more specifically his fingers.
His hands were large and rough, you absolutely loved the way they’d roam and grope all over you body; fondling your breasts, squeezing your ass, wrapping around your throat. You wanted it all.
But his fingers.. oh they were perfect. They were long and thick and he knew exactly how to use them.
Your heart raced as you reminisced of the last time Chris’ fingers had been inside you.
Hooking his fingers up to find that soft, spongey area just against your plush walls. Making sure to attack that spot with each thrust he made inside you, it was a guaranteed orgasm every time.
You had tried to duplicate the same feeling with yourself tonight, but nothing compared to Chris. Your fingers were shorter and slender, they didn’t feel nearly as good.
Your pussy ached for Chris, so much so that you nearly began crying over all the sexual frustration.
Your eyes flickered down at your phone, squinting a bit so that your eyes could adjust to the bright light shining against your face.
You stared at the profile picture of his contact, mentally debating if you should text or call him. One one hand you’d get to hear his voice, but on the other he would be able to sniff out the desperation in yours from a mile away.
You couldn’t handle the embarrassment and decided to text him instead.
You ; 12:08 A.M.
Heyy
Are you busy??
Chris ♡ ; 12:09 A.M.
Nooo
Why?? 👀
You ; 12:09 A.M.
I need you
Can you come over pls
Chris ♡ ; 12:11 A.M.
Baby it’s so late
Wish you would’ve said sum earlier
You ; 12:12 A.M.
Chris please
Yk I like it better when you do it :((
*Attachment: 1 image*
Chris ♡ ; 12:14 A.M.
Omw 🫡
Chris ♡ shared his location with you.
ETA: 12:35 A.M.
*ೃ༄
You rushed to the door after hearing the doorbell chime. The locks clicking as you twisted them and pulled open the front door towards you, being met by your best friend.
His hair was trapped in one of his white beanies, paired with a thick hoodie and his blue jeans.
“Missed me that bad? You never ran to do the door before.” Chris smirked, shutting the door behind himself.
Before you could give him an answer his arms snuck around your waist, lifting you up in the air.
Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he hugged you close, his hands grabbing a handful of your ass just underneath your top.
He smashed his lips into yours, wasting no time slithering his tongue inside. Your brows furrowed as you draped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the heated kiss.
The only thing keeping your pussy away from his dick was the soft denim of his jeans. You whimpered into the kiss when you felt the warmth of his bulge pressing up against you, throbbing with excitement to be reunited with you yet again.
Chris’ grip on your body grew tighter, making sure that you were completely secure before making his way towards your bedroom. Quickly pushing the door open with such force that it banged against the wall in the process.
You whined as he threw you onto the bed, looking up into his hungry eyes through your lashes. The warmth of his body heat mixed with yours as he hovered above you, his silver chain sparkled in the moonlight as it dangled just above your chin.
The same cologne from earlier filled the air, only stronger this time as it came straight from the source. It sent shivers down your spine as if he were putting you under some sort of spell.
“Chris—“ You yelped, feeling the warmth of his large hands sliding up your shirt. Navigating their way up to your braless chest, wasting no time groping the plush skin of your tits.
You spread your legs further apart, allowing him to cradle himself towards to you. His entire weight pressed all over your body had you overwhelmed with desire, you couldn’t wait for him to pounding inside you next.
He left a trail of soft kisses along the nape of your neck, knowing how squirmy you’d get whenever he teased the sensitive bit of skin.
Your breathing only got heavier and faster as he began to slowly suck on the same area, a tingling sensation built up all throughout your body.
He moaned against your smooth skin, loving all the noises that fell from your pretty lips.
Your bottom lip poked out, giving him a slight pout when he finally unlatched. You had a burning sensation down below that could only be satisfied by this man and of course he had to draw out the process.
Although, it wouldn’t be very much like Chris if he hadn’t.
His fingers wrapped around your throat, forcing your neck up so that your eyes flickered up to stare deep into his lustful gaze.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” He spoke, his voice low and raspy.
Your eyes shied away from his, mortified to give him the satisfaction that you were all pent up because you wanted— no needed, his fingers buried so deep inside you that you’d see stars.
“Use you words.” Chris whispered softly as he gently moved you so that your eyes were back on his. “You weren’t so shy in that photo.”
Your ears grew hot with embarrassment, remembering how you were touching yourself in the picture you had sent. Whenever you would get like this all your common sense fled from your body, all that you could think about was Chris.
His body, his voice, his eyes, his hands, his arms, his dick. Just everything about him.
He never left your mind from the moment he brought up the suggestion of being friends with benefits on a random Tuesday afternoon.
But the both of you knew that he would only drag out this situation much longer than needed if you didn’t just go ahead and tell him what he wanted to hear— no matter how embarrassing it was. You unfortunately had to learn that the hard way.
“I just need you.” You whined. “I tried touching myself and… you just do it better. Please.”
The brunette’s lips curled up in a smug smirk, deeply satisfied with your sweet little cries; you were on the brink of tears, wallowing in frustration because how much you craved his touch. It only fueled his ego.
He released your throat, gently swaying his hand down below past your belly. His fingers brushing along the plush inside of your thighs before finally bring the pads of his finger tips against your swollen clit.
Your breath hitched, feeling him circle the soft bundle of nerves.
“Oh baby, you’re already so wet.” Chris muttered, feeling the warmth of your juices trickle onto his fingers. Soaking up all the lewd sounds your pussy made as it squelched with every move he made. “It’s all for me?”
“Fuck.” You whined, tossing your head back. “I need more.”
“More?” He teased. “Gotta be more specific.”
“Chris, please!” You mewled, not wanting to form the humiliating sentence.
“Something like—“ Chris began to whisper, as he slipped both of his fingers past your entrance. You gasped as your back slightly arched up from the bed, a spew of broken whimpers poured out from you. “—this?”
“Yes.” You finally responded in a husky breath, bringing your head back down to watch his fingers slide in and out of you slowly.
Your moist, plush walls closed in on his fingers, hugging around them tightly as he continued pumping them inside you at a generous pace. Your pussy fluttered with excited— ecstatic to finally receive what you’ve been longing for all this time.
“You hear that? Your pussy’s so wet, and it’s all for me, huh?” Chris cooed with a slight slur in his speech, referring to the loud squelching coming from down below. “Can’t wait to fill it up.”
You were too lost in your own pleasure to shy away from his comment. It wasn’t long before he hooked his fingers up towards your g-spot, making sure to hit the spongey area with each thrust.
“Chris!” You screamed, your legs trembling around him as you squirted; completely drenching his hand and wrist in the process.
Your chest heaved rapidly as you attempted to catch your breath.
“Already?” Chris chuckled, dragging his fingers out from your heat. Usually it would take longer for you to finish, clearly he underestimated your perseverance this time around.
“I’m sorry.” You sighed, “I didn’t mean to, I just—“
“Shh. It’s okay.” He replied. You watched him with hooded eyes as he lowered himself right in between your legs.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him inch closer and closer towards your now sensitive cunt. Surely he wasn’t going to go right back in before giving you a proper break. Right?
“So beautiful.” Chris sighed against your flesh as he peppered warm kisses along the inside of your thighs. His words slightly slurring together as if he were getting drunken off your figure. “My pretty girl.”
Your fingers timidly grabbed onto his beanie, slowly pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. His brown locks falling in every which way over his forehead and ears.
You combed through his hair, brushing a few strands away from his face so that you could get a better view of him.
His cheeks were flushed a rosy red hue as he finally made contact with your pussy, bringing his hand down to gently spread your lips open with just two of his fingers.
You winced, feeling the cool air brush against you.
Without hesitation, Chris flattened his tongue against your puffy clit. Never breaking eye contact with you as he slurped and swirled it against your sopping went cunt.
“Oh my fucking God— Shit!” You cried. His stubble brushing against your smooth skin as you accidentally smushed his face in between your thighs.
He groaned into your core as the grip you had in his hair tightened by the second.
Your back arched off the mattress yet again, completely taken away by pleasure. Your whole body felt as if you were being electrocuted but in the best way possible. Your sensitivity was heightened to the max and every move Chris made was heavenly.
Perhaps a bit too heavenly.
“Chris! I can’t take it!” You pleaded, giving your best attempt to push his head away. But he persevered, remaining latched to you like a parasite who’s soul purpose was to suck the life out of you.
It wasn’t long before Chris got fed up with your whines and pushes, finally pulling away and giving you a rest.
Your breath hitched as you watched him rise up to his knees, looking down at you pathetically as he the buckle of his belt clinked in his fingers. He quickly slid it off through the belt loops of his jeans.
“Give me your wrists.” He spoke, his tone gentle yet firm.
Without question you offered him your shaky wrists. Your bottom lip protruded back out giving him a slutty pout and pleading eyes as you watched him tighten his brown, leather belt around your dainty wrists.
“Is this too tight?” He asks, looping his finger inside to test for himself.
“No.” You reply in a husky breath.
“Good.” Chris cooed, “That should keep you from pushing me away again, right?”
Your heart raced and your eyes widened. No way you could last another round of that. You had barley lasted the few moments prior.
He couldn’t help but laugh to himself at the sweet expression written all over your face.
“I know you’ll be good for me.” He reassured, running his hands along your hips and waist. “Ass up.”
You whimpered in response, propping yourself up by your knees and elbows. Chris’ pink tee draped over your skin, exposing a bit of your breasts down below.
Your hips bucked towards the bed, your legs felt as if they were about to give out as you felt kisses being pressed into your ass and thighs.
You shuddered underneath his touch, the palms of his hands resting at the back of both your thighs, giving your pussy a quick peck before finally pulling away.
You blinked away a few straggly tears as you heard the zipper sliding down from his pants and the rustling of them hitting the floor.
His dick sprung out of his boxers as he pulled them down past his ankles. His breath hitched when he squeezed his hand around the base of his length, slapping it against your ass.
You rocked your hips against him, moving in way so that his tip brushed against your clit. You whined in response, still being so sensitive from before.
“So sweet.” Chris huffed out, one hand grabbing onto your hip and the other remained on his member as he flicked the tip up towards your entrance. “Are you ready, ma?”
“Yeah.” You whimpered, screwing your eyes shut.
Your broken moans bounced off the walls as Chris sank his dick into your pussy. Your walls clamped down on him as he continued to push his way deeper inside, slowly giving you inch by inch.
Your body moved in waves as you adjusted to his size, whining at how he twitched inside you— a telltale sign that you weren’t the only one who wasn’t going to be lasting much longer.
“Fuck— You feel amazing around me, baby. Squeezing so tight.” Chris grunted, his finger tips digging deeper into the soft handles of your hips.
You hands curled up into two tight firsts as you felt Chris crash his hips into yours, fully pressing himself balls deep inside your cunt.
Your walls fluttered already his cock, sending a tingling sensation all throughout his body.
Chris continued feeding you with sweet praises, a few “Good girl.” ’s and a couple “I know you have another one in you. Come on, give it to me.” ’s there, as he slowly dragged out his member only to rut back into you at a quick pace.
His hands snuck under your belly and up towards your chest to catch your tits in his hands. Smirking at the way they’d bounce each time he pounded into you. Your legs trembled as he continued fucking into you, knowing for a fact you were going to be sore in the morning after all this.
Your pussy throbbed at the low groans that spewed out from the brunette. His hands traveled up to cup your hips, using them as handles to pick up the pace of his thrusts.
“Chris!” You wailed, warm tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Gonna cum again!”
“Yeah? Go ahead ma, let go for me.” Chris panted, his thrusts growing sloppier by the second. “Want that shit all over my dick, give it to me.”
The sounds of Chris’ hips colliding into yours filled the room. Along with your series of broken moans and his animalistic grunts.
Your pussy squelched loudly; completely drenching his cock in your sweet arousal. Your body felt as if had been set on fire, your core going numb with all the pleasure Chris gave you.
It was only a matter of seconds until your body curled in towards the mattress, releasing more of your delicious juices onto the bedsheets.
“Gonna give you all my cum.” Chris muttered as he fucked you through your orgasm.
There were no more moans left to give, you hiccuped and gasped with each thrust he gave you, relentlessly pounding into you.
And you loved every bit of it.
Your walls closed in on his member once more before he finally shot his warm, thick load inside. He crashed hips back into you one last time before finally dragging himself out from you.
You let out a deep, shaky sigh of satisfaction followed by a faint giggle as Chris gave your ass a quick smack; watching his seed pour out from your pussy.
📃 — taglist!
@bluesturniolo333 , @sturniolotripletsarehot , @cupidtoast , @mattsbratt , @hoesformatt , @mattgirly , @stellarsturns , @mattsturniolosgf333 , @mrssturnioloo , @sturniozo , @littlebookworm803 , @only4mattyb , @breeloveschris , @liz-stxrn , @strawberrysturniolo , @mangoposts , @enyaslover , @1horrormoviewhore1 , @whatever1021 , @mysterioussmae , @mattslolita , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniolopowers , @hercigaretteblush , @lovingmattysposts , @stardustmf444 , @lovesturns , @gigisworldsstuff , @crispylouis28 , @that-general-simp , @lustfulslxt , @ifilwtmfc , @chrislapdog , @sstvrnioloo , @angelic-sturniolos111 , @kvtie444 , @iwantyoualloverme12 , @sturniolosreads , @luvmxtt , @kayannettesposts , @sophssturn , @isabellehoran , @sturnfix , @kxnzxx , @sturniolowhore
©️ LUV4KOZUME 🦢
Navigation! ‧₊˚🥂✩ ₊
1K notes · View notes
number1jeonginstan · 3 months
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A/N: Based on this ask right here! Please send feedback because I love to hear it! Also, this was such a cute write, but you know I gotta add my own twist (hehehe)
WC: 1.8k (kinda quick)
Pairing: Bf!Chan x Virgin afab!Reader
Wairing: Fluff and Smut! Loss of virginity, the reader is kinda scared of dicks (that's what was asked in the ask!), pet names (baby and sweetheart), unprotected sex (it's me and Chan, come on), cumming inside, f! fingering, idk what else
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“It’s just weird to think about” you sighed, trying to explain your logic behind not wanting to have sex. Scratch that, you want to have sex with Chan, he’s been teasing you for weeks and your fingers haven’t been helping. 
Even at the beginning of your relationship, you explained to Chris that you had never had sex, and he understood, telling you it was perfectly fine, but you didn’t tell him the reason why until a few minutes ago.
“I don’t think it’s that weird, it’s a reproductive organ that all men were born with” he chuckled, watching your face of disgust. 
“Exactly, men were born with. I’m not a man, so I can live my whole life without seeing one” you emphasized as he came closer to you, nibbling on your ear. “You really can live your whole life without me inside of you baby?”
You whimpered at the thought, knowing that the last time you even looked at a cock, you were disgusted and genuinely petrified at the thought of touching it. “Maybe we can try?” you shrugged, looking up at him.
He almost groaned at the sight of your doe eyes pleading at him to give your cunt some sort of stimulation. You finally came clean about the reason you were so scared to have sex with him, even after watching you rub your thighs together in attempts to give yourself even a sliver of stimulation whenever he kissed you, he never wanted to pressure you. 
“Are you sure baby? We will take this nice and slow, we can turn off the lights too, would you like that?” You simply shook your head at that, thankful you had someone who truly cared about you.
He got up from his bed, turning off his lights, and the dimness of his LED lights, the only thing covering his room being a purple hue, allowing you to see the outline of his face. 
“Is that good baby?”
“Yes,” you replied, your voice surrounding him. He slowly shifted you, placing your covered cunt against his thigh, flexing it slightly as he dragged you against it. “Feels good baby?” he asked, kissing your neck as you moaned. 
“Feels so good” you whimpered as you continued to rut against his thigh, feeling yourself getting wetter. “Good girl” he chuckled as he flipped the two of you over, your back hitting the bed underneath you, head hitting the pillows. 
“Chan?” you whispered, confused by what his next step was going to be. “Baby, you don’t think you would be able to take my cock without any prep?” 
He slowly pulled down your sleeping shorts and underwear, basking at the sight of your cunt. 
“What a sweet-looking pussy” he moaned at the outline, the light not being bright enough to make it out fully. 
When you did feel confident in seeing him fuck you, he would ravish your cunt, eating it like his last meal. For now, though, he was going to get you ready for his cock, slowly dragging his fingers against your slit.
“Fuck Channie” you moaned, feeling his cold fingers running against your hot cunt, your mind slowly floating a bit away as you felt him put his first finger into your sopping hole, causing you to moan as your cunt clenched around it.
“Fuck baby, you need to stop clenching around one measly finger. How am I going to get you to take my cock if you can’t even take a finger?” 
“Can take it Channie, please need more” 
“Aww, baby look at you acting like such a good girl for me. If you want another finger, I can add another one just for you. You just gotta relax for me baby, can you do that?” 
You just nodded, trying to release a little bit, allowing him to slowly add another one inside of you. “There we go, look at you being such a good girl” he said, kissing the top of your forehead as he began to slowly scissor the fingers inside of you. 
“Fuck” you moaned at the sensation of his fingers inside of you. He was awe at the sight of you, you were taking his fingers so well, moaning at the feeling of him hitting your g-spot with his fingers. 
He knew you needed another source of stimulation, you needed to cum, and he wanted to make you. He slowly dragged his thumb against your clit, causing you to arch your back slightly, your head still pressed against the pillows. 
“Good girl, there we go” he kissed your lips before slowly pulling his fingers out of you, licking them. You watched in awe as he pulled them out, “taste so sweet for me baby” he groaned at your taste. 
“Now baby, are you sure that you want my cock? I’m fine with us stopping here, but I’m going to need a cold shower”
“I’m sure” you said more affirmatively, “I want you to fuck me” 
He groaned at that, slowly getting off the bed to get a condom. “Stop where are you going?” you asked a bit confused. “I’m just getting a condom baby, calm down” 
“Please don’t” you whined, you wanted to feel him fully your first time, not wanting anything in the way. “Baby, are you sure? I know you are on birth control, but I want to make sure you are comfortable, we can use a condom”
“No Channie, wanna feel you fully, wanna feel all of you” you whined, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to your bed. 
“Fuck” he whisperedd to himself as he pulled his shorts down his legs, throwing them god knows where, the same with his shirt. He couldn’t believe he was going to fuck your pretty little pussy, not to mention raw. 
“Wanna help” you whimpered, supporting yourself on your elbows as you took his cock in your hands, a bit perplexed on how warm it was, but you ran your hand up and down it. You noticed how Chan threw his head back, a moan leaving his lips along with your name. 
“Fuck sweetheart, if you keep going like that, I’m going to cum” 
“What if that’s what I want you to do?” you giggled, watching his pupils dilate under the purple hue. “Baby, you should be glad it’s your first time, or else I would have fucked you for acting like a brat” 
You hummed at his tone as he took his cock back in his hands. “You sure baby?” he asked one more time, waiting for you to say yes. As soon as you did, he ran the tip of his cock along your wet slit, causing the two of you to groan simultaneously. 
“I’m gonna put it in now” 
“Please do Channie” 
He slowly started off with just the tip of his cock inside of you, your walls hugging him in so tight that he slowly began to push more inside of you. 
It didn’t feel uncomfortable, just a bit foreign. You had never had anything as big as Chan inside of you before, so it was a new experience, but something you could see yourself getting used to and loving. 
 Chan could see you in your own head so he slowed down. “Is it too much baby, I can slow down”
“No, please don’t, feels so good” you whimpered as he slowly continued his almost snail like pace, pushing his cock inside of you. Chan knew he was big and didn’t want to hurt you to chase his own high. He wanted to make sure it was perfect for you, even if he had to go at such a slow pace. 
It took a couple minutes for him to fully situate himself into your cunt, the tip so far deep that he could see your face contort in pleasure. 
He let himself stay there, too scared to move, that was until you whined underneath him, begging to feel him move his big cock. “Fuck baby, you don’t know what you do to me” he whined as he slowly took his cock out of you before thrusting it inside of you.
He felt so good inside of you, but you needed more, needed him to go faster.  “Please Chris, need more please go faster” 
How could he disagree when you looked up at him with your watery doe eyes.
He began to thrust into you faster, causing you to whimper, his cock feeling hot inside of you, hitting your cervix with every thrust.  “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, can’t wait to fuck it all the time” 
“Yes Channie, want you to fuck me whenever you want. Feels so good, so fucking good” 
“Yeah baby, you loving my cock inside of you, want me to cum inside too?” 
“Yes please please please” you pleaded, wrapping your legs around his torso, causing him to quicken his pace as he placed one hand over your clit, rubbing it in tandem to his thrusts. 
“Yeah baby, fuck, can feel you clenching around my cock. I know you are close, why don’t you come for me baby, please cum for me” he whined, kissing your neck, leaving marks all over it. He needed to feel you cum on his cock, needed to make you feel good.
“Fuck Channie, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum” your walls clenched around him as a white ring was visible around the base of his cock, causing you to moan at the sight. 
“Fuck gonna cum, are you gonna let me cum in this perfect little cunt of yours?”
“Yes, please cum in me” you whimpered, your entire body feeling overstimulated at his cock continuing to plow inside of you, him chasing his own high. 
With a few more thrusts, he came inside, his head tossed back, allowing you to see his adam’s apple bobbing at the feeling of your cunt sucking in his cum. 
He slowly pulled out, watching his cum and your own mix, slowly falling out of you. 
“Wait here baby, let me clean you up” he quickly pecked your lips before running to the bathroom to get a warm wash cloth, running it down your legs before handing you a glass of water from his side table.
“Let’s go to the bathroom, I already started a bathe for you” he kissed your lips after seeing your tired nod, picking you up bridal style before placing you into his bath tub, him entering right behind you, allowing you to rest your back on his chest. 
“How was it baby?” he asked, kissing your shoulder before hugging you. 
“Amazing Channie” you giggled before slowly closing your eyes, surrounding yourself with him. 
1K notes · View notes
nkogneatho · 8 months
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۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐
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—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader
#mlist #taglist #art commissions
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒
For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.
The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.
The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.
"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.
"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.
This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.
One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.
Put your head on my shouuulder...
You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.
Hold me in your arms, baby...
He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.
"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.
The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.
That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍
As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.
The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.
Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.
"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"
You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.
You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.
"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"
"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."
"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.
"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro whenyou signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.
"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.
"You said something, baby?"
"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "
"I'm running in four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.
"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.
"Are you in denial?"
"No, darling. I am in love."
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Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
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Drive To Survive
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indented italics - flashbacks, display other than interview, screen changes
February 14, 2025 
The screen is dark as the newest episode of Drive To Survive plays. 
The title read “The Rookie.” It was finally time for the episode that everyone had been waiting for since the 2024 season ended. 
The opening scene starts with multiple flashes of cameras. If people watched the 2023 season, they would know exactly what circuit it was. The Elvis impersonators would give it away as well. 
Standing in a circle was the current world champion, two Ferrari drivers, and the Papaya duo. They smiled forced smirks for the cameras. Yet, they dropped them once they realized the cameras were not pointing to them. The Netflix camera filmed them all turning to face the front. Most of the drivers had confused looks. 
“I didn’t know Checo was a Cars fan,” the microphone picked up the words from the red clad Spaniard. 
Max smirked, the camera zooming in on the Dutchman. 
“He’s not.” 
The camera angle changes to the back of a young woman, blond hair bouncing with every step. A red scarf flowed behind her, white body suit sparkling under the flashes of all the cameras. 
The screen flashed the title before a producer chair was put in a spotlight. The camera angle switched to a back view as a driver walked around and sat in the chair. Their face is completely nonvisible from the camera angle, but people know who it is. 
The lights dim before brightening, and the camera angle is back on the chair with the driver. Blond hair reflects the lighting, as well as a nice smile. The episode clapper is in her hands.  
“Please state your name and team for the camera.” 
The woman in the chair took a breath. 
“My name is Y/n L/n and I drive for the Italian team, Scuderia Ferrari.” 
She clapped the black and white box. A loud beep sounded in the studio as the camera crew started to laugh. The girl in the chair started giggling as well, before acting serious again. 
“Yeah, that was a lie. I drive for the best, the Honda RBPT Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 team. Red doesn’t look the best on me. I prefer navy.” 
She smiles, trying not to laugh once more. 
The camera quickly cuts to black and then fades into a clip, that looks similar to a home video. A young girl is smiling for the camera, tiniest helmet in her hand.  
“How old were you when you started karting?” a voice sounded over the video. 
The blond cocked her head in thought. She smiled at the nostalgia that was running through her mind. 
“I was five.” 
The same little girl was now in a kart, doing donuts on a driveway. 
“My parents had gotten me a kart as a present. They had been talking about starting me as soon as possible. I mean, I had toy cars before for practice. My first one was a bright pink Barbie car and I got that when I was 3.” 
The clip changes to a different scene. This time, it was of a karting circuit. Multiple kids were aiming for the first place spot, but a singular pink kart was going around the outside, taking it from them.  
“I remember my first time winning. It was 2008, a few months after I got my kart. All the boys there looked at me weird when I showed up with my hot pink helmet.” 
“Where you scared?” the interviewer leaned in, awaiting the answer. 
“Of the boys? Not one bit. They should have been more scared of me.” 
It was now a black screen, but multiple voices shouted over it. 
“Y/n L/n wins her first feature karting race. 
“That is another win for the female karter! 
“Y/n L/n wins the European Division for karting in 2010! 
“L/n takes the 2012 Italian Karting Division Championship!” 
“Karting will always be a part of me.” 
“Who kept you going?” 
The girl gave a sad smile to the camera as she looked down at her hands. She knew she had given them permission to talk about the subject. She just didn’t know that they’d go right off the bat. 
“My godfather, Lorenzo.” 
The screen changed to a clip of the small girl running to a taller man. The man was knelt down in the grass, arms open wide to catch the running girl. A gentle smile was on his face as he looked at the trophy in the child’s arms: almost too big for her to carry on her own. 
“I believe that without him, I wouldn’t be in this chair. I owe it all to him.” 
The scene changes once again, to multiple clips of an F4 and F3 car crossing the finish line. 
“Y/n L/n wins her first F4 race of the season! 
“Is she going to take home the championship today? Yes she does! Y/n L/n is the 2018 Formula 4 Champion!
“It is a new year and we are seeing a lot of new rookies in Formula 3. Hold on, is that Y/n L/n? Ah it is! So glad to see the girl here today especially after last year! 
One of the regulars on the show, Will Buxton, was now in the seat. 
“What are your thoughts on L/n’s rise in Formula 3?” 
Will leaned in, getting focused. 
“You have to have such a good foundation in your family and close friends, to be supported, to be good like that. Because without good support, a driver cannot be a good driver.” 
“L/n is across the line to take home her first F3 race win. We were seeing her looking a bit down earlier, so I hope this brings her spirits up because she is making history today.” 
“So, I was disowned right before that race that I won in F3.” The blond shrugged. “I really never had any good support other than like three people. At the time, two of them were just staff too.” 
She giggled at the revelation, knowing what Buxton had said beforehand. 
“Another win for L/n, making her the 2019 Formula 3 champion. Ladies and gentlemen, you do not want to miss watching this racer ever again.” 
Somber music now plays in the background. 
“How nervous were you when you made the jump from the Formula 3 division to Formula 2.” 
The girl gave a nervous scoff. “I was terrified.”
Clips of pictures filled the screen. 
“I had just lost the only person in the world who I know still cared for me.” 
“Heir to the Alessandrino Fortune Has Died” 
“Former Italian Karting Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Has Passed Away” 
“Lorenzo Alessandrino, 2001 Formula 2 Champion, Is Dead” 
“Y/n L/n Makes Motor Sport History as the First Woman To Start in Formula 2” 
“L/n Takes the Formula 2 Feature Race” 
“Y/n L/n, History Maker: First Female To Win a Formula 2 Race” 
The headlines fade into a video of the podium. A 25-year-old Max Verstappen is visible, holding the 1st place trophy. He is seen watching the 17-year-old Y/n L/n shed some tears during her national anthem, while pointing to the sky when it finished. He gingerly stepped out and handed it to her when cued. She graciously took it from his hands and offered him a wide smile. Max stepped back, watching the young girl openly cry in front of thousands. On the inside, he wished he had that strength. 
“I could tell something was off that day.” 
A new driver was in the chair. Male, blond, and in the same team uniform as the female was. Anybody who’s anybody knew exactly who that was. 
He sucked in a breath. “Obviously, I didn’t know her or what she had been through at the time. Now knowing, I wish I had given her a hug.” 
Max let out a chuckle as he reminisced on that day. 
The screen flashed and the woman was back in the chair.
“I knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was.” Her hands waved around. “Max Verstappen, probably one of the greatest drivers to grace the grid. No one just skips most of F3 and all of F2. You have to be great. And that was Max.” 
“Was he your favorite driver on the grid at that time?” 
She let out a snort. “Oh gosh no.” 
Everyone in the studio laughed. 
The scene changed to you sitting next to Charles at one of the debriefs in Las Vegas. You had no clue why they put you there, because last you knew, you weren’t driving. However, they had said something about wanting the pole sitter and you (who had done the fastest lap in FP1) to talk for a bit. 
Your cheeks were a bit heated as you were truly sitting next to your hero. Charles could only smirk at your very shy nature next to him. He watched you rattle off about some part of the car and the balance. 
The Monegasque cut in. 
“See, this is why she is perfect to be Max’s teammate. They could talk all day.” 
Everyone around them laughed, along with you who gave some quiet giggles. You rolled your eyes. 
“Let’s not talk about the fact that you have your own ‘Leclerifying’ hmmm?” 
The girl smirked at the camera. “There was a certain McLaren driver that always tried to get the attention of a select Spaniard. If Lando was obsessed with Carlos. I was obsessed with the other Ferrari driver. I tried to get his attention on Twitter, er, well now X a couple of times. It was still Twitter when I was using it.” 
“Of course I noticed her tweets.” 
A new driver was now in the seat once again. This time, he wore the iconic Rosso Corsa team polo.  
Charles smiled as he looked down at the multiple rings on his finger. His hand came up to his neck to fidget with a certain necklace. His smile grew as he thought on the memories. 
“I thought it was sweet. A young driver was trying to keep up with the big leagues. I’m pretty sure I responded a couple of times. And Sebastian had put in a good word for her.”
“Sebastian?”
Charles’s eyes widened as he smirked. 
“Vettel. He’s known her for longer than anyone here has.”  
The scene changed again. 
The girl was back as she clapped her hands.
“Charles made my day whenever he responded. To me it was probably like if Harry Styles responded to a fangirl’s tweet or Instagram. I always hoped that I’d make it to Formula 1 and could maybe drive beside him.”
“We were told that you know retired driver Sebastian Vettel.” 
The blond smirked, not nervous but confident. 
“Yeah, I know him. He was really good friends with my godfather.” 
She leans forwards and fixes her shorts. 
“It’s kind of how Max was close to the Schumacher family. Lorenzo worked with Seb multiple times in the very early 2000’s when Seb was still in karting. I want to say probably even before I was born as well. He was a little bit older than Seb, more like a mentor. I was able to catch up with Sebastian around 2020 and I got to meet a few more people.”
“People such as?” they prodded. 
“Kimi, Nico, Mark. I’m pretty sure I met Lewis like once though when I was pretty young. Like probably around 2015. I got to watch a couple of Formula 1 races with them in 2020.”  
The camera cuts to a man wearing the Mercedes logo on his polo. His braids are kept nicely as he smiles at the camera. They hand him a picture of you and him in 2015. His eyes are wide as he keeps looking at the photo and then to the camera. 
“This was her?” Lewis questioned, letting out a small laugh. His eyes squint as he tries to get a closer look in the dark room. 
The scene changes once again, the female driver back in the seat.
“Were you nervous that you might not have made it? To Formula 1 after what happened in 2020?” 
The blond looked down at her hands. 
“There were a few years where I was convinced that I wouldn’t.”  
The screen fades to more headlines. 
“Y/n L/n enters a second year of Formula 2 with PREMA” 
“The Future for F2’s Only Female Driver is Uncertain” 
“L/n Is Out of the Last F2 Race of the Season” 
“PREMA Drops L/n for Her F2 Final Season?” 
A clip of a meeting of some sorts flashed on the screen. You were looking quite down as you picked at the end of a table as someone read off a paper. You didn’t even want to pay attention as they were nailing the final nail into the coffin.
“Prema Racing has decided to let go of driver number 89, Y/n L/n. After the 2022 season, she will no longer race for or have any affiliations with Prema and will be replaced by Ollie Bearman.” 
You spoke up. “But I have a contract until the end of 2023.” 
The representative glared at you, before looking back at the page and kept reading. “Since driver 89 has underperformed in the past 2 years, Prema has decided to break contract. Compensation will be sent at a later time.” 
Vito had silently grasped your shoulder to offer you some comfort, but the hurt had already been done. You were going into a season for the first time since F4, you didn’t have a secured future in the sport. 
Ollie was sitting on the other side, watching you sadly as they basically read your death sentence. The camera zoomed in on you playing with a pen. If one were to look closely, they could see tears streaming down your cheeks. 
Will was back in the seat. 
“A driver without a contract or team cannot drive.” 
The scene changes back to the driver. 
“I mean. I had other options. On the side I was talking to Sebastian and even Nico. I was trying to keep my eyes open for something, anything. Except, it turned out that I didn’t need to.” 
More headlines flashed.  
“DAMS To Sign Both Leclerc and L/n for 2023” 
“Y/n L/n Wins First Two Races of the 2023 Formula 2 Season” 
“L/n Wins Her Third Race with Teammate Arthur Leclerc Behind Her” 
“Y/n L/n Makes History Once Again: First Female To Win Formula 2 Championship” 
“Y/n L/n: Youngest Driver To Win F2 Championship” 
The girl is back in the chair, the spotlight on her. 
“I didn’t know that I’d get the championship my final year. I was skeptical. I really thought that I wouldn’t be able to, since it was my final year, I had been dropped, and I had a new teammate. But I had a really good teammate and a better team. They really put everything into me being the best driver.” 
“What did you think would happen after everything was over? You had won the championship with 1 race to spare.” 
The girl swallowed before speaking. “Obviously, I thought I didn’t have many options. At the time, it seemed as though every door was closed. I kept talking to my manager about it, and every time he said he would come back empty handed. I even talked to him that morning, and he just had a sad smile on his face.” She paused. “I knew that even though I could be the champion, I had nowhere to go after that.” 
The person in the chair changed. 
“So, that was all a lie,” Vito spoke to the camera, a smile on his face. 
The scene had changed. Vito Accardi, Y/n L/n’s manager, was seated in a chair. It looked like he was stressing over his laptop. Stella, L/n’s  race engineer at the time of 2023, was seated across from him. He was silently tapping a pen on the table as he looked over the words on the screen.  
“Too many junk emails?” she teased, settling into her chair. 
The male shook his head. 
The screen showed multiple contracts up at once, lines upon lines were highlighted. The headers at the top of each contract showed very recognizable logos. 
He smirked as he looked directly at the camera. “I couldn’t tell her anything until I knew that there was something for certain.” 
“How many teams wanted her?” 
“All of them.” 
The scene changed to a past driver’s get-together: one that no one had seen before. The group consisted of Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, Fernando Alonso, Daniel Ricciardo. An odd group, but they were just waiting around (or hiding on a Wednesday). 
Charles was looking down at his phone, while Max was watching him closely. The Monegasque’s fingers were typing at a lightning speed. 
Lando was the one to point it out. 
“What’s got you in a tizzy?” the Briton asked, pulling Charles out of whatever fog he was in. He quickly turned his phone off. 
“Ferrari is wanting to sign someone else, but wouldn’t be able to do so until 2025. Except her manager insists on a seat for 2024.” 
Lewis had his interest piqued. “It is Y/n L/n?” 
“Yeah. My brother has put in great words for her, along with Sebastian. Pierre also says that Alpine is thinking of options too.  She’s,” he huffed, “very good. Almost a little too good.”  
The other Mercedes driver took a sip of his drink. “Toto was just talking to me about that, but he said the same thing. There aren’t any seats available until 2025. But he wants her.” 
Lando rolled his eyes. “So we’ve all gotten the talk about how all the team principals want to sign her. Even McLaren is speaking about how to get her a seat somewhere. Testing driver or something like that.” 
The older Spaniard spoke up. “It would be foolish not to. She has generational talent. Stroll is looking at her as well.” 
“So are we. Except there aren’t any seats,” an Aussie added. 
Max was quietly reading almost every article he could get his hands on about her. In the back of his mind, he knew that Checo was going to retire after this year (especially after what happened at Mexico). He quickly sent one to Christian, only getting a thumbs up. 
Daniel bumped Max. “You’ve been quiet over there. What are your thoughts on the potential rookie?” 
The Dutchman looked up. “What rookie?”
The scene changed back to the Italian man. 
“I’ve been her manager for years. I knew exactly what she needed at that moment. Sure, I could have told her, but I knew she wanted to race in 2024 and not wait. I’m not her manager for nothing.” 
“How did you get in touch with Red Bull’s Christian Horner.” 
The man adjusted in the chair. “Well, even though she wasn’t on their junior team, the actual brand Red Bull was one of her sponsors in karting.” 
The scene changes once again, this time the Team Principal of the currently reining team was now in the seat. 
“Vito had gotten in contact with me when she first started F2,” the older Briton said. “But we wanted to see what would happen. We took a chance at Max, way back then. But this was a bit different.” 
The interviewer asked, “Because she was a girl?” 
Christian shook his head. 
“Because she was 16 at the start: younger than Max was by two years. Sure, she turned 17 at the end of the season due to a later birthday in October. But, we took a step back to see what she could do, especially now that they changed the age rules after Max. She was dropped by PREMA, and we almost took the chance then to maybe bring her in as a development driver. But, Vito was adamant about her wanting a championship. She wanted records broken, and she did.” 
“How did everything go down? Before she knew.” 
He smiled.
“I called him right after I got the article from Max. Youngest to win an F2 Championship and a female on top of that.” 
“Was everything pretty smooth sailing?” 
He shook his head. “I was advised not to sign her, but I was told ‘no’ for Max and you see where that got me. I wasn’t going to let her go to a team that wouldn’t let her shine.” 
The scene changes to the RB19 being driven out at the mock track for training. The girl’s white helmet was a stark contrast against the deep navy of the car. The camera panned to the mock pit wall. Multiple people pressed buttons as they watched you take lap after lap. 
A much older man just looked on with pinched eyebrows, not really interested in seeing what the girl had to offer.
After the final testing times had been clocked, he stood up and slammed his papers on a table, before he left the pits. Christian smirked as he watched him stalk off. He knew he made the right call for the second time. 
“How did it feel being in the seat for the first time?” 
The girl, back in the seat, responded, “It felt surreal.” 
She kept talking as the screen faded into clips of the car. 
The aerial view watched as the car look several laps: getting close ups and shots of the car going around the corners.  
“I went from having the door slammed into my face to the door being blown to bits.” 
“Did Vito ever tell you that he was talking to multiple people at once?” 
She looked at the camera. “He did. But he knew what I needed. That’s why he’s been my manager since 2018.” 
The scene changes to multiple flashing cameras as the girl walked into the paddock for the first time in Vegas. The cameras followed as she straight up walked to the group of older guys, introduced herself, and followed Max as he walked away. The rest of the guys watched her animatedly talk to the man who hated every second of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. 
“The beginning of your season was filled with a lot of highs,” 
The screen flashes to multiple clips of you raising trophies, especially highlighting your podium in Bahrain. 
“And lows.” 
The female’s eyebrows raised. “No kidding.” 
The scene changes to your car flipping in Suzuka before panning to people’s reactions. Many people immediately stood up. Others put their hands over their mouths. Many stayed sitting, frozen in shock over what they just saw. 
The screen fades to black, but radio messages can be heard. 
“Kid, you have to answer me.” 
“Tell me you’re ok. You need to respond.” 
“I can’t lose you too.” 
Charles was back in the chair. Tears could be seen in his lash line as he exhaled a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, trying to get over his emotions. 
“A crash like that doesn’t happen every day. It was awful, just waiting to hear back from her. Really took me back to 2014. Reminded me of Jules. On the same track. Rain. I don’t think I would have finished the season if she hadn’t made it.” 
The scene changes to multiple marshals standing around the car, trying to get to you. Except, you were trapped. They didn’t want to start cutting, just in case there was a fuel leak. They did not need for the car to catch fire.  
“I remember watching Lewis just turn around,” George said, now that he was in the seat. “He kept shaking his head and muttering. I couldn’t stop crying.” 
“Y/n is a driver who was shy at the beginning, but then got more comfortable with you as time passed. She became precious to everyone on the grid.” Oscar offered a smile, but it fell short as he remembered Suzuka. 
“There hadn’t-” Lewis began, but cut short. He swallowed before he kept going. “There hadn’t been a crash like that since 2014. And the last time it happened, he didn’t make it. I was honestly preparing myself for the worst.” 
Max shrugged his shoulders, trying to be nonchalant. Yet, anyone could see that his hands were shaking just a bit, his fingers picking at his skin. 
“She just wouldn’t answer. And then they got Arthur Leclerc on the radio, thinking that he could get to her. Even then, she didn’t respond for what felt like hours. We were all waiting, on the pit lane, just hoping that she’d start talking soon.” 
“What did it feel like for you in the car?” 
The female was back in the seat. 
“All I really remember was seeing the sky and the grass as I rolled, and then nothing. I had totally blacked out. When I was coming to, I just remember hearing so much through the radio, I didn’t know what to make of it. I think I laughed as I answered. I was just happy to be alive.” 
“We know that was your first DNF. Thankfully the second wasn’t as bad.” 
“No kidding,” she laughed. “My car just doesn’t have very good balance.” 
“You’ve had lots of podiums. Which one was the most fulfilling?” 
The girl looked up in thought. Her eyes narrowed, truly going over her options. She didn’t want to have to talk about certain matters, but she didn’t want it to be brought up later. 
She answered, “Imola.” 
“What was so special or daunting because of it?” 
The blond harshly inhaled, before smirking a bit. “Well, lot of people knew how it ended.” 
The scene changes to multiple police cars around the paddock. The camera barely caught a glimpse of two people being let away in handcuff before panning over to the group of drivers. The lens zoomed in on your face, a big bruise forming by your eye. Max was standing protectively near you as Christian was still yelling at the people in the car. The other drivers can be seen hovering around the scene. 
Max gulped before he sighed. 
“I knew it was bad, but not this bad. I’m just glad that I had gotten to her in time.” 
The female stretched. “Except I got a trophy out of it, so, I wasn’t too sad.” 
The scene changes to the next race, where most of the drivers were waiting for the parade. They could tell that someone was missing. Except, right when Lando was about to bring it up, you walked in. Sunglasses were on your eyes, trying to hide the ugly yellow and purple blotch on your face. Except, it didn’t do too much to actually hide it. 
“Afternoon,” you said, sipping on a drink that you brought. Your fingers took off your glasses, multiple drivers wincing. “It’s not that bad.” 
Lando rolled his eyes before muttering, “They shouldn’t have been allowed back in.” 
Max handed you an icepack, which you grabbed immediately. Logan brought you into a side hug and let you rest against him.  
The Dutchman let everyone know that you had finally gotten your restraining order approved. Smiles adorned the rest of the drivers’ faces at the news. 
An older Aussie was now in the seat. 
“I wasn’t there when she met everyone. But I watched Max let her follow him, in Vegas. It was cute, ‘cause I’ve never seen Max act like that before. But she’ s been a good teammate to him. Not trying to be rude, but I’m also putting myself down when I say this: she has been the best teammate that Max has ever had.” 
The scene changes to you and Max in a car on the way to a race. The two of you are seated next to each other and phones are in your hands. A sudden gasp from you has you reaching over to Max, your hand smacking his chest. 
The Dutchman winces. “What?” 
“Taylor Swift broke up with Travis Kelce. Fernando has his chance.” 
Viewers would have thought that Max would seem uninterested, but his eyes widened and he was suddenly leaning over, trying to get a good look at your phone. 
“You’re lying.” 
“No I’m not. See?” You just handed your phone over and Max was instantly enthralled with the device, fingers scrolling quickly. 
“It’s definitely like they have a competitive sibling relationship.” 
Max watched as you were talking to Oscar, the afternoon after you hit his car. Max smirked as he walked past and bumped you on purpose. Your head whipped around, trying to find who did that. Once you saw Max’s shoulders shake as he walked away, it was over. You quickly said goodbye to Oscar before running up to Max. 
What he did not expect was for you to jump on his back, almost sending him face first into cement. He stumbled but his arms were quick to grab your legs. Your giggles were loud next to his ear, but Max guessed that he’d let you stay. 
“I know for a fact that it’s been good to see Max a bit more carefree. Y/n really brings out the good in him. She really does that to everyone though.” 
Rain was pouring down in Brazil, due to a hurricane in the area. The race had been canceled and Max was just chilling in the garage. His eyes caught your figure walking out into the downpour. He watched as you just stood there, getting drenched. That was until you started dancing to no music at all. 
Max got up from his seat and walked over to a manager. 
“May I?” he asked, the manager nodding his head. 
He plugged his phone into a jack and clicked on a specific playlist that the two of you had made together. Normally, it would be playing while the two of you warmed up to get ready in the car. But now it was playing as you continued to dance. 
Max quickly joined you and bumped you with his hip. The cameras caught you looking up at your older teammate, whose body was quickly getting drenched. Before long, the two of you were dancing in the rain. 
And very possibly, the other drivers joined in too. 
“She really cares for him. It was like they met and clicked right away.” 
Clips of you and Max filled the screen. Walking together in the paddock, signing things for fans, doing stupid things for media day, congratulating each other after races. 
It showed you checking on him after a DNF, wanting a legitimate answer if he was okay or not. Once Max gave the thumbs up and Mitch told you that he was, the cameras in your car showed how your body visibly relaxed after know that he was ok. 
“Sure, they’ve had their troubles.” 
The scene changes to Max passing you in Monaco. 
Your voice was heard over the scene. “What an asshole.”
The scene changed to you not letting Max pass and him hitting the back of your RB20 in Belgium. 
“That was a rookie mistake.” 
The viewers knew that they had deliberately cut a certain action out of the scene, but it was something that they were actually thankful that Netflix cut. 
“But they always apologize and get back to it. I think that’s how she got her first win. She needed to know that they could truly work as a team.” 
The scene showed you and Max giving each other a big hug in The Netherlands after Max won the Dutch Grand Prix. 
The scene changes once more. 
“How was it? Winning in the city of red.” 
“Words cannot express.” 
The screen showed you walking in on that fateful morning, bright orange car in the background. You waved to the crowds, who seemed to get louder with your attention. Your smile brightly shone as you kept walking, only stopping momentarily for a few autographs and pictures. 
“Y/n L/n On Pole in Monza – Youngest Pole Sitter in F1 History”
“There she goes! Y/n L/n has won the 2024 Italian Grand Prix. She was starving, but now she’s been satiated. The youngest pole sitter and turned that into a win.”  
“Y/n L/n – First Female To Ever Win a Formula 1 Grand Prix” 
"Y/n L/n Hailed as 'The Long Awaited' by Italian Fans"
The camera pans to the girl standing on the nose of her car, hands stretched up reaching for the sky. Max, who had DNF earlier, came over. She grasped him tightly, legs around his waist. Christian was behind them, joining in the celebrations. Soon, the entirety of the crew got over the barrier and flooded the area. The two Ferrari drivers, in a respectable P2 and P3, watched as the female driver was almost covered by people. If it wasn’t them, then they were glad it was her. 
The blond returned back to the seat. 
“Let me tell you, the after party was probably my favorite part of the weekend. Well, besides the winning part.” 
“After Monza, how did the rest of the season go.” 
“Well, I did go on to win 3 more races.” The girl smirked. 
Clips of the number 89 car crossing the finish line cover the screen. 
“Y/n L/n takes her second win of the season after Monza in Mexico! 
It showed you waving to the crowds of Mexico, flag draped over your shoulders with a sombrero on your head.. 
“A homecoming of sorts, Y/n L/n wins a third race under the lights of Las Vegas! 
Your fists were clenched as you shook them while your knees were bent. The while Elvis suit kind of glowed against the night sky. 
“L/n wins her fourth race of the season in Abu Dhabi. Ending a perfect rookie year on a high!” 
The crowds watch you get on your hands and knees before your car. Your hands outstretched in almost a mock bow to the machine. 
The scenes show the you hoisting up three more trophies, all while pointing to the sky after each one.  
The interviewer looked down at their questions, before glancing back up at the girl. 
“What was your worst race? One that you didn’t DNF.” 
The girl didn’t even hesitate. “Qatar.” 
“Why is that?” 
She shrugged. “I thought it would be cooler.” 
The screen goes black, but then changes to a very busy scene. People could see medical personelle holding onto a driver by their arms. Their legs all but dragged along the concrete. Lights flashed around as they brought her to a makeshift cot. Her helmet was ripped off along with the cloth under it. You gasped as you tried to catch your breath. Your cheeks were red and your hair matted with sweat. 
“I need an IV and cooling towels now!” 
“Her blood pressure is dropping, she’s going to pass out again.” 
“Hey, you need to stay awake. Do not close your eyes.” 
“Her breath is more shallow, she needs to cool down. Get buckets of ice and water.” 
It changes to a podium, but only two drivers are present. It was supposed to be a Papaya sandwich after Oscar had gotten his first actual race win. They looked worried and barely stayed for the celebrations. 
The cameras followed as the orange drivers as they ran to the Red Bull garage once the podium was finished. They expected to see you still unconscious, since that was the last they heard before the podium. Yet, they were surprised to see you upright and smiley. An IV was connected to your arm, but you were awake. 
Oscar ran, before wrapping his arms around you. 
“Do not do that again. I can’t believe that you kept racing.” 
You smiled up at him and Lando. 
“What can I say? I’m indestructible.” 
“She’s impressive.” A German voices his opinion now that he’s in the seats. “I don’t wish to say it, but I’m glad she’s at the different team. I don’t know if we would have been able to give her the car that she needed.” 
The interviewer looks a Toto for a moment, before continuing. “You think she’ll leave Red Bull at some point in her career?” 
The Mercedes Team Principal shakes his head. “No. She’s going to stay until she retires. I’m sure of it. But who am I to talk about staying with a team forever.” 
The scene changes to you and Max, both casually hanging out. You sighed as you looked down at your phone. Max quirked an eyebrow, but stayed silent, giving you the go ahead to spill. 
“They’re asking again if I’m going to be staying past 2026.” Your arms waved around before you huffed and they fell at your sides. 
The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Are you wanting to stay past that?” 
You grinned at the older driver. “Can’t go anywhere when I have the best here.” 
The scene changes to the blond female Red Bull racer, back in the chair once again.
“Do you think you’ll ever move teams?” 
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think I will. It seems that every racer’s dream is to drive for the team in red, but not mine. I’ve always wanted to just race for the team that will get me places, and I think that Red Bull can stay on top for many years to come.” 
The interviewer continued. “What do you think you’ll do after Formula 1.” 
She smirked. 
“After, I want to collect. I’m thinking the triple crown. Probably go to endurance racing and then 1 year of Indy. I know I’ll be able to do it.” 
“If you could have your dream team for Le Mans, who would it be?” 
“Either Leclerc in addition to Max. I don’t think I could be anyone else’s teammate ever.” 
Clips of Charles, Arthur, Y/n, and Max showed on the screen. They might look like an odd bunch, but they worked somehow. Arthur had been promoted at the end of 2024 to actually drive for Porsche in the 2025 Qatar endurance race. Late in the editing, they were able to sneak in a clip of the four of you celebrating after he podiumed.  
“So, we heard that you and Max were able to sign new contracts at the end of 2024. How long are the both of you going to stay.” 
The girl thought for a moment, trying to think of how to word it correctly. 
“Well, we both have kind of open ended contracts like Charles signed in early 2024. Christian said that he’ll do his best to keep us there, but we aren’t bound. I plan to stay for a while and so does Max if they keep giving us good cars that can still dominate.” 
“Do you plan to break any more records? You sure had a lot in the past season as well as early years.” 
“How many do I have?” she asked. 
The interviewer counted. “Five.” 
She smirked for the final time for the episode. “Five? That’s hardly enough. Let’s make it interesting and get 6.”  
Everyone in the room laughed at her joke. 
The screen cut to black and the episode ended. Yet when the female racer retired, they went back and added one more thing. 
“Y/n L/n went on to be the most decorated racer of all time. She ended up breaking 22 records in the duration of her entire motorsport career, that no one has been able to touch since.” 
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri
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rosie-writings · 3 months
Text
Hypnotize Me
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Summary: You and the gang investigate a hotel haunted by a demon that influences people in ways none of you experienced before, making it the final push for Colby to solidify the relationship he always wanted with you.
Warnings: Colby x Reader smut, MFM (no Solby) threesome, unprotected sex, overstimulation, love bites, squirting, messy sex
Words: 7.6k
No Y/N Used
Title is from ‘Hypnosis’ by Sleep Token
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I was so damn tired.
The backpack met the thin floor with a thud that hung in the air. My eyes were too heavy to open fully, and maybe I led us all into the most haunted room—of course the largest suite as well—in the hotel, but I really couldn't care less. 
“Oh—Wait this is actually nice,” Colby spoke first between the five of us. He brushed past me and walked into the room to our left.
”Wow it actually is,” I think Nate said as he rounded the corner. I don’t think my toes lifted off the roughened carpet as I dragged myself through the unrealistically large suite to find the bedroom. When I found it, I audibly moaned in relief.
”Holy shit! Maybe we didn’t need the second room, this bed is probably big enough to fit all of us.” Sam must have followed me with the camera but I ignored him as I face planted into the ivory linen sheets. They covered my peripherals, and my eyes rolled back in the suffocating darkness.
It was worth not checking for stains or bed bugs first.
Then there was a loud scuffle.
“Ah—! Jesus, I almost met god because of your backpack in the middle of the floor.” I huffed a breath in response; Colby must have tossed the backpack to the side of the bed but I didn’t flinch from the reverberation. Didn’t care that my laptop was in there at all.
Maybe I needed a shower; after two sleepless nights in a cold dangerous area proceeding a haunted hot as hell area, a shower and a dreamless night in the deepest cavern of this bed was first on my priority list.
Of course the boys had different plans. We were in the middle of our third video of the week. Thank god it was the last as well.
Between infiltrating an abandoned building outside of Portland to talking to whatever lurks in the woods of a small town somewhere in Texas, I was beat. Road kill, some would say, and dare I say I looked like it too. My hair was a mess and my nose was still red from the cold wind in the north but my neck was caked with old sweat from the humid heat of the faux winter in Texas. At least I could hear it in all of their voices too; this quickly became a midnight hunt rather than an afternoon hunt. If only we could get through this damn intro.
”—here she is, she's uh well—tired.” I lifted my head up slowly and looked up to see the camera and Sam’s tired eyes smiling down at me. “Don’t blame her; at least we all feel the way she looks.” 
I flipped him off before he turned the camera towards himself.
”That was mean,” he laughed. I stuffed my face back in the now damp with sweat and hot breath duvet. “But fair. We’re going to rest this afternoon and after dinner, we have a meeting with one of the most skilled demonologists we’ve ever met.”
”Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’ve met one in every country we’ve filmed in,” Colby tagged on as I heard him approach Sam.
”Pretty soon we’ll be able to say we’ve met every demonologist—“
I don’t remember what the ending of Sam’s sentence entailed. 
My eyes opened. 
The room was dark besides the ambient orange light from the lamp beside the head of the bed. The curtains were shut. What time was it?
I lifted to my elbows but drew in a breath when I felt weight fall from me. I looked to my left and noticed how Colby rolled from his side to his back; his face turned away from me. He was knocked out. Was his arm across me as we slept?
Two nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night in the same situation except two bright eyes stared back at me. Even in the dim moonlight that shined through the broken ceiling of the abandoned building, his eyes glowed bright back at me. I told myself the only reason I fell back asleep in his arms was because I shivered my skin off from the chill. I felt his body shake as well which meant it must have been cold even with the sleeping bags. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been daydreaming about what his hands felt like on my back and what the warmth of his neck felt like on my face, my lips.
As I stretched on the bed and yawned as quietly as I could, I looked to my other side and I nearly choked myself half to death when Sam jumpscared me. He as well lay on his front with his head supported on his crossed arms. I didn’t know how I didn’t feel his side flush to mine. We slept in almost the same position. 
My face burned when I pulled my leg off of Colby’s. 
I slid backwards off the bed and popped my neck; my body ached from sleep uncomfortably. I was ready for a real sleep. Although, that nap did fare well. Nate slept on the other side of Sam and I smiled at the sight of his arm and leg wrapped around Sam’s body. 
I snapped photos of them. For blackmail. Or, at this point, pure entertainment.
I grabbed my bag and headed into the bathroom. I held my breath for some reason as I turned on the light and nothing happened. It always crossed my mind that maybe—just maybe—everything was a lie and hauntings weren’t real because of evenings like this one. We all were zonked on the bed—aside for poor Seth who coiled up on one of them sofas in the main room across from the bedroom—and not a thing happened. 
Then again I'm sure I could have time traveled during that nap and I wouldn't have known a thing. 
The warm water almost lulled me to sleep then and there, but the chilly tiles kept a pep in my step. I wished I had this room to myself. I imagined it then; kicking the boys to the floor so I could have the largest bed I had ever seen all to my clean self. 
I didn't do that. 
By the time I was finished blow drying my hair and making myself as presentable as possible for the camera while keeping my future bed time routine simple, I heard commotion in the rest of the suite. I pulled a new pair of black jeans from my bag and pulled on a thermal long sleeve and a hoodie on top of it with rushing hands. What was the plan now? 
“Yeah man, I have no idea.” I only caught the end of Colby’s gentle statement when I opened the door. His eyes found mine and I watched intently to find out what they were saying.
”Seth is still asleep,” he said.
”And Sam wants to be,” Sam spoke into Nate’s side. He held onto Nate and tried to curl into him comfortably, but Nate scooted away with every advance Sam made. I scoffed a laugh as I passed the pathetic three on the bed.
”And Nate wants to get this show on the road or else he won’t ever get up from this bed. Jesus, it’s damn comfortable.”
”It really is though,” Colby said.
”I don’t think the nap did anything for me even though it was really nice,” I admitted. Colby aimed his attention at me as I dropped my bags under the covered window on the side of the bed he sat on.
”Yeah, I’m really tired still as well.” 
“Let’s get energy drinks and some food before we miss the meeting,” Sam said as he too yawned and stretched.
”Someone wake up Seth.”
”Oh right,” Nate laughed as he got up to do just that. “Can’t forget poor sleeping Seth.”
”He looks so cold,” Sam laughed.
”Not as cold as two nights ago.”
”Don’t remind me,” he moaned. 
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“We’re here with Dr. Smith; the renowned demonologist who’s especially familiar with all of the paranormal activity that’s happened here at this hotel,” Sam spoke to the camera.
As much as dinner was amazing fuel, as soon as we got back into the lobby of the hotel and started the meeting with Dr. Smith, my eyelids were heavy again. Sure, we missed two nights of restful sleep, but how tired was too tired?
A subtle flinch on my hand yanked my attention from the interview, and my eyes met Colby’s whose eyebrows rose with question. ‘I’m good,’ I nodded. ‘Tired,’ I mouthed and he nodded heavily with his eyes closed. His eyes were darker than I had seen them, and when I looked back in Nate’s direction, I noticed the distraction in his eyes.
Were we all truly this spent? We all had taken many trips with Sam and Colby through the years, and almost every week was filled with three or four high adrenaline videos to get done. The traveling mixed with the paranormal adrenaline and the unrestful sleep promised hazy days and many many energy drinks, but this? This was different.
”Seth—“ My attention was pulled by Sam’s voice.
”Shit I’m sorr—“
”It’s fine,” Dr. Smith said. “If you all don’t know, the main issue visitors have dealt with in this hotel is fatigue.” My stomach dropped. “The souls that make pit stops here often get trapped and are weary from living in purgatory in these walls.” Somehow a burst of energy coursed my veins at this insight; at least my suspicions weren’t too outlandish.
”This makes a lot of sense,” Colby sighed. 
“We’re outrageously tired and took a three hour nap,” Sam laughed. Dr. Smith nodded.
”If it’s already affecting all of you this much, you might want to be careful when you go to the third floor then; people are known to pass out very frequently because of—well the things that live there.”
”Why—What’s on the third floor and why does it make people pass out?”
”We believe there is a demon who stays in this hotel, specifically the third floor, and it influences the spirits and human people who come. It doesn’t like to be alone, but it also doesn’t enjoy the company of people so it depletes energy quickly.”
”Almost like an omen for them to leave?” Sam questioned.
”Maybe,” Dr. Smith said as his head fell to the side with some disagreement.
”Or is it more so wanting something to do, like, does it enjoy messing with people or something?” 
“I think that’s the case,” he responded as he pointed to Colby. “It might be bored and it may want human energy to feed on and manipulate.” 
The way that Dr. Smith expressed the demon’s wants sent chills down my arms and it felt like hot air held my ears. Maybe this would be a long night, and maybe some decent activity would come of it.
Hopefully all this fatigue wasn’t for nothing.
”I’m still on edge about all of… this,” Seth said as his hands gestured to everything around us. We walked through the hotel with quiet voices and the camera filming on Sam’s side.
”Same, but what are you feeling?” Colby asked.
”I’m freaked out about how we all are equally feeling the demon’s effect already and we haven’t even tried to taunt it or anything.”
”I mean, it could just be because of our trip,” Nate spoke. The voice of reason. “We barely slept.”
”Yeah but all of us took long naps and we all feel like zombies even after the drinks.” No one argued that.
As we walked and talked and introduced the hotel to the camera, Colby made sure to keep up with my pace. I couldn’t decipher whether I imagined it or I was the one keeping up with him, but for some reason, all my attention honed in on him and his body and every motion it made. 
And when we turned the corner and Sam quickly stopped in front of me, I halted in my steps and Colby’s body collided into mine. I held my breath so I wouldn’t gasp; we all were quiet. Seth had heard something and Sam whispered to the camera.
I backed up into him tighter when his hands that held onto my waist dug in deeper. His breath skipped some and he let go of me and passed me with a raised whisper when Sam asked him something. It took me a moment. A dazed moment. My tired brain was so overwhelmed with everything that suddenly I felt intoxicated. Intoxicated by the fatigue, intoxicated by the lack of effected air conditioning, intoxicated by Colby who seemed to also be unable to stop touching me and thinking about me—
What was going on? 
I lagged behind the boys as they walked down the hallway. Colby turned to me. His eyes were dilated, face flushed, hand reached back towards me.
”Come on, don’t fall behind,” he whispered. I took his hand and didn’t say anything because I swore my heart replaced my vocal cords in my throat. 
Even as it got hotter when we ventured to the second floor and even as the sheen of sweat in between our palms became more so a dripping pool, I didn’t let go of him. And he didn’t let go of me. 
“Are you okay?” He whispered down to me. I nodded slowly.
”Yeah, just hot as fuck.”
”Are you good?” Sam’s louder voice caught my attention and I looked up. Nate spoke animatedly to Seth with a hand pointed down the hall and Sam had turned towards us. The camera was to his side.
”Yeah,” Colby answered for me. “We—It’s hot as hell and can barely stay awake.”
”I know,” Sam sighed breathlessly. Sweat too lined his face. “Dr. Smith did say that they have perpetual issues with the AC on the third floor, and even during the winter it gets this hot.”
”Couldn’t imagine the summer here,” Nate said as he spun into our conversation.
”I’m really wanting to get to the third floor to test some things out.”
”Like the Estes method?” Seth asked. Sam nodded quickly. 
We were on our way and my heart burned in my chest. I gripped Colby’s hand tighter as my head rushed with more elevation. The elevator was slow but my pace was slower, and the fatigue gnawed at my bones.
”You’re not going to pass out are you?”
”No,” I shook my head. “I mean not yet at least.”
”Don’t worry,” Sam said. “We’ll catch you.”
”Shut the hell up,” I snapped as the elevator doors opened. Nate led the way. “Of all of us, I trust you to purposely miss me.”
”Yeah that’s only because Colby would have caught you before you even started to fall—“
Seth’s spiteful jeer was cut off by a loud bang at the end of the hallway. Sam and Nate rushed forward around the corner with the camera. 
“There’s literally nothing,” I heard Sam’s whisper. I ignored the smirk on Seth’s face as he gave a look to Colby. We three turned the corner as well.
Nothing. An average looking empty hotel room shined back at us. Not even a member of housekeeping nor their supplies showed any kind of appearance. 
“We’re in a hotel for fuck’s sake,” I whisper. “It could be a damn guest.”
”True,” Nate said. We slowly walked backwards.
”Alright,” Sam started and lifted the camera. Real filming time. “The demon’s known to be most responsive in the conference room on the third floor, which is where we’re headed.”
”Yeah because for some reason this demon has a lot of business to get done,” Seth said. We all looked at him. I burst out with one singular laugh and slapped my knee.
”Good one.”
The conference room was larger than I anticipated and dark and musty. We left the lights off and turned on all our flashlights and faced them towards the ceiling to give more of an expansive ambient light. As Colby set up the rem pod, I held an emf device and Sam prepared Seth to go under on the Estes method. For as empty as this room appeared to be, it sure as hell felt full.
Tables lined the back wall while chairs were stacked near them. A few stragglers of chairs peppered the room but other than that, only two gigantic crystal chandeliers decorated the room other than the hardly touched plush carpet with intricate designs.
The heat around my face didn’t get better. Only worse. I could hardly breathe. My vision was hazy and it was as if the air suddenly had a film of white air over taking the much needed oxygen. I decided that I was just crazy and sleep deprived when none of the guys complained about it.
”If there’s a spirit in here, let us know by coming close to one of our devices,” Sam started. His voice echoed around the room. “If you would like to speak with us you can do so by touching these devices,” he pointed to the rem pod and emf. “Or you can send words into this and it will read them back to us—“
Present
My heart stopped at the shrill of the ovilus.
”Thank you so much, I’m Sam, these are my friends—“ We each said our names. “We’re just here to talk and nothing more. Can we ask you some questions?”
”The rem pod—“ Colby rushed out. We all looked at the brightness of its lights. The rem pod never seemed so bright and loud to me than at that moment.
”Yeah that’s the rem pod it’s pretty intense,” Sam said. ”How many of you are there?”
Full
”The ovilus said full—
Meeting
”Does this mean a meeting full of spirits are here?” Sam asked. The rem pod stopped.
”If you have a lot to say and would like to talk to Seth in the spirit box, then move back to that—“
The rem pod went off again and stayed on
Sam turned to us with wide eyes and I stared back at him unblinking.
”Get—Alright Seth get on the spirit box,” Colby told him.
Seth sat in the chair blindfolded and he set the headphones on his head. The moment he went under I too felt a rush of dizziness.
”Hey—“ Colby grabbed my hand. “You good?”
”The energy drink must be making me jittery or something,” I said. “I’m so damn tired like I can’t keep my eyes open but I’m faster.” He nodded with a slight grin.
”Hopefully it’s just that—“
”Sam,” Seth spoke in a monotone voice.
”Hi, yeah that’s me. Who am I talking to, what’s your name?”
”Many.”
”There’s many of you, aren’t there? Are you all trapped here?” Sam must have been referencing Dr. Smith who said that the spirits here are trapped in purgatory.
”Not likely.” Seth’s voice twisted in my chest like a knife; I didn’t know what it was but I couldn’t breathe and the tone in his voice told me something different.
”Is there a way for you all to leave?”
”There was just—just a noise I think a sigh? Or a laugh? I don’t know— Irrational.” Sam’s head cocked to the side at the obscure word the spirit box tagged on to Seth’s description of the sound.
”What’s irrational?”
”Maybe it’s saying we’re irrational to think they are trapped,” Colby told him.
”Probably. Do you like staying here?”
“Feeding.” Seth's single word alone sent chills across your arms as if it didn't push 90 degrees in the room. 
“Are you feeding on energies? I know a lot of people stay here—”
“Love it when you… I didn't catch the rest.”
“You love feeding on the energies or something?” Sam's patient tone never ceased to shock and impress me. The way he so confidently handled the discussion was something entirely beyond my capabilities. If whatever this was fed on any energy at all, it must have been mine because as my fear increased the remaining ounce of my energy decreased. 
“Dr. Smith was talking about how this was like a super busy place for humans and spirits, and it's easy for them to get trapped since the supposed demon loved stealing the energy—” Colby spoke before Seth interrupted him. 
“You bet, you bet I do—No for real guys that's what it said before a laugh. I'm shaking,” Seth rushed. Colby shot a glance at Sam the same time Sam turned to him. 
“Why do you stay here and take the energy—”
“It—” Seth laughed as his cheeks blushed pink. “It's literally just a girl moaning.”
“Moaning? What the fuck?” Sam whispered back at Colby. 
“Do you like to trick people here? Are you bored or something so you feed off their energy for entertainment?” Colby asked. 
“I love it, I love it, I love—So stupid.” My head turned to the side in confusion; what the hell did that mean?
“Are you calling us stupid because we don't understand?” Sam asked. 
For some reason I raised my voice next. 
“Or are you calling the people you play with stupid—”
“Fucking bitch.”
“What the fuck,” Sam gasped as he looked at me. 
“Damn sorry for speaking,” I laughed. 
“You will be.” The boys gasped and looked at me as I stared at a completely oblivious Seth who still rocked back and forth in time with the jumping channels in his headphones. 
“That's—That’s a threat,” Colby raised his voice. He took a step in front of me.
“You can't touch us or mess with us, you und—”
“Too late.”
“Too late as in too late because we’re all tired?” Nate asked. 
“Yeah maybe it's already influenced us like Dr. Smith—” It cut Colby off. 
“You'll feel it. Can't you?” 
“Yeah we're pretty tired,” Sam replied, still somehow patient and confident. “Is that you making us tired?”
“Even more than.”
“More than what? You're making us more tired than usual?”
“Idiot.” Sam took a step back with a laugh. 
“I'm tired of getting roasted by a demon,” he laughed. I wanted to laugh with them, but the fire started at my knees. Yes, it was hot in the room, but a particular ache that I wished was new spread lower than it typically did. 
It was hot. And I wasn't just sweating. 
“What’s your name?” Colby spoke up that time. 
“It's my pleasure.”
“What does that mean?” Sam asked in our direction. Colby shook his head. I stared intently at Seth still as if I couldn't look away. The fairness of his skin drew me in and it took a full seven more seconds until I realized the fire in my legs raised to my mid thigh and even higher. 
I ached. 
“What's your pleasure, what do you like to do to people?” Colby asked. 
“Everything.”
My stomach fell out of its place. 
“Everything,” Sam gasped nsd Colby quickly raised his hand. 
“You would do everything to us?”
“Somethings.”
“You cannot hurt us or follow us home, you must stay here—”
“Oh trust me.”
“I don't like this,” I finally choked out. 
“Yeah me neither,” Colby’s voice gently replied. 
“Should we get him out?”
“One more question then we will,” he replied to Sam. 
“What do you want to do to us?”
“it's already been done.”
“What? What have you—”
“Bye.”
And the headphones yanked from Seth’s head and fell to his feet by themselves. 
The five of us stood frozen; all eyes peeled to the headphones that now reverberated with the shrill of empty changing channels. 
The heat pooled in my stomach. I needed to change underwear. 
“Holy shit—“ I finally break and take a step back.
”I know, oh god. What was—What the fuck—”
“What the hell just happened?” Colby cried and cut off Nate. 
”Let’s—Let’s go back,” Sam choked out. “We need to get out of here.” Seth was deathly still and soaked in what had just happened to him. Nate’s hand held the back of his neck as we all left the conference room.
“Did—Did we get anything good at least?”
“Oh my god, let me tell you what happened.” On the way back to our rooms many stories above, Sam told Seth the entire story. 
“How was that possible?” Colby finally broke. He spun around and walked backwards so he could see us all. “It literally stole enough energy from us to throw the fucking headphones down!”
”Which makes sense. I might pass out,” Seth said. 
“Let’s hurry.” Colby grabbed my hand.
The ache wouldn’t leave. It was like it attached itself to my legs and spread up, up, and up— the heat in between my legs was unbearable now. I needed sleep. I needed to pass out. I needed—
I looked at Colby as we entered the elevator. His eyes were nearly devoid of color. We all were drained and tired, and this strange feeling like a spirit of desperation or something, came over all of us so suddenly that even Sam forgot to pick up the camera and press record again.
Nate and Seth went straight to their suite and Sam led us into ours. My heart pounded against my ribs as I crossed the threshold. Eyes. I felt their eyes on me but I didn’t turn back. Too tired, too drained, I didn’t know what else, or how much else, I could handle. I kicked my shoes off if I walked and didn’t even mind that they were in the middle of the floor. I flopped on the bed only for them to follow me. 
Sam pulled a rem pod out of the backpack and set it up in the corridor between the first room and the bedroom while he set another room in between the corridor of the bedroom to the bathroom.
”Just in case,” he told Colby as he shot him confused looks.
The anxiety that welled in my chest depleted when Sam yawned and slipped out of his hoodie. Colby’s eyes were closed and I couldn’t tear my eyes from his dark lips when he licked them wet.
”I’m so ready to pass out,” Sam said. He flicked the lights off. 
Colby made a sound as he moved and I heard him as well strip clothes off. What was happening? It sounded like their heads were caught in a fog as well and we couldn’t think. Our decision making skills were non-existent and when I slipped under the blankets in between them, it didn’t feel off from any other situation we had been in. At least Sam plugged his phone in. I could have left mine in that conference room and it wouldn’t have mattered to me.
The darkness of our room struck me before my head hit the pillow and I was out.
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My throat was a dry fire and my skin turned to lava. My eyes peeled open and swirls of blues and whites from my forgotten dream mix with the darkness of the room around me. I whined. It was fucking hot. I sat up straight because if I didn’t get the hoodie off of me immediately I was certain I would die.
”Hey,” I heard Colby’s half asleep voice. I only whined again in response. He sat up. “What’s wrong—“
”So fucking hot I’m going to be sick.”
”Here, here,” his soft voice replied, and his hands quickly snaked under my hoodie. It was a frenzy to get everything off. I didn’t know what came over me, us, but before I knew it my hoodie hit the floor on top of his leather jacket and my thermal came off with it. My back hit the bed again as he hovered halfway over me. “Better?” He whispered.
”I—I don’t—I need—“
”What do you need?” My hands already fumbled with the button of my skinny jeans. Colby’s eyes trailed down my body and I didn’t cower in the sight. His hands swatted mine away and I lifted my hips so he could drag the damp fabric from them. Only when my jeans met his on the floor did I realize that he too only wore underwear.
”Something—anything—“
”Fuck, it’s not just me who feels it then, huh?” I shook my head quickly. He wavered in his confidence. Even in the darkness of the room I watched his head shake. His arms shook as well and he fought within himself it seemed.
”Do whatever you want, Colby.” So he lowered himself down on me. When did my legs spread?
And when I felt how hot and hard he was already, questions poured through my mushy brain faster than I could process them. Was this an effect from the demon? If so, what kind of demon was it? Were we not just tired out of our minds but also horny out of our minds as well? What if this wasn’t even the demon? Did I really like Colby more than I was willing to admit? Was Sam alright? Was he even still asleep?
A moan hitched in my throat when Colby purposely thrusted against me slowly. My back arched and he pinned me down by my throat.
”Sh,” he demanded. “This is what I want. You still gonna let me do it?”
I couldn’t think. Nothing rational repeated disagreements in my mind because for far too long now I’ve wanted this too.
I nodded frantically.
”Please, I’ll beg you to do it if you won’t.” He laughed once.
”I don’t think I can give you the time to beg this time.” This time? More sounds so far from myself escaped my tense throat when his thumb dipped into my mouth. He pulled at my teeth then my bottom lip and even though I know he only tried to find where my mouth was, my eyes still rolled back at the feeling and bitter taste.
And his mouth was on mine.
He drank down my moans and pushed my legs back so that he could thrust against every part of me. I couldn’t even call any part of this dry or clothed because my arousal was enough to saturate both of our clothes to ruin.
My stomach couldn’t keep up; it twisted under my skin and my heart pounded in my ears with every lick of his tongue behind my teeth. My hands chased up his skin from his pantline to his neck where I held tightly. I couldn’t get enough of it even if our sweat mended together past the point of comfort and our noises and movements were definitely harsh enough to wake Sam. 
When he pulled away, I sucked on his tongue hoping to bring him back.
”Holy fuck—“ he gasped as I let go of his tongue. It was then and there that I decided I could never get over his taste and I needed more and more of it until I was addicted. 
And I heard a heavy breath from Sam. 
He did too because both of us shot wide glances at him. Of course Colby didn’t stop the obscene movements against me. Thankfully. Colby looked back at me, but I still watched Sam sleep. His head tossed from being disturbed and my heart dropped when I realized that in a matter of seconds, Sam’s eyes would be on us.
”Look at me,” Colby hummed and of course I did. “Please, can I…” He mumbled as his fingertips dipped under the band of my underwear.
”Fucking god—obviously,” I whined and writhed under him because why wouldn’t he hurry the fuck up—
My underwear were halfway down my thighs when we froze in our tracks; a moan that wasn’t mine. 
“What—“
And another. 
We looked at Sam simultaneously and I couldn’t look away from him this time.
”Maybe it—Maybe it’s not just us too,” Colby aimlessly spoke as he hurried to get my underwear off my legs. It was impossible to keep still. The friction overstimulated my every nerve but it also wasn’t enough. I needed more, more of something, of anything.
”Fuck.” Another drawn out moan interrupted us and I couldn’t contain the fluttering in my chest from the sound of Sam’s voice. He must have still been asleep because he moved lazily. I watched him as Colby ducked under the blanket. 
Just as Colby’s mouth met my thighs, Sam thrusted up into the sheets.
He looked for something, anything, and in that moment I understood. I questioned, something in me truly did because this was incredibly unlike us, but I couldn’t think straight. Not with this haze flooding my neck and this cotton stuffed in my brain.
”Colby—“ I gasped the second his tongue met me. My hand found his hair and it only pulled a moan from him. 
“What the fuck.” And there it was. A groggy voice next to me. I looked away from him in fear of my own red blush but I forgot how dark the room was. “Oh shit—“ It sounded like Sam came to and understood the situation now. “What the hell, why do I feel—“
”Sam.” I didn’t mean to hum his name the same way I did Colby’s. Colby moaned as he sucked me sweetly; I nearly blacked out from the heat of his tongue. And when his fingers teased me? My hips writhed for him. “Please oh my god, more just—inside already,” I whined and thank the heavens Colby didn’t put up a fight.
I didn’t even try to conceal my moans anymore, not when his fingers filled me and his tongue stimulated me so perfectly. Even in the darkness I saw and felt the head rush; my vision pounded with stimulation and shock.
Muffled moans caught my attention and I looked at Sam. He had turned to his front and although his eyes were closed and pointed down, he still faced me. His arms were crossed under his pillow and I knew he tried to fall back asleep.
He was closer though.
And I didn’t disregard the way his hips thrusted repeatedly into the mattress.
”Colby please, god I’m so close.”
”I know,” he whispered but pulled away. I wanted to complain but how could I when his kisses and tongue trailed up my body like that? 
“Sam he’s—“
”I know,” Colby laughed. “It’s okay.” 
“How do you know?”
”Look at him,” he laughed. “He would have told us to fuck off by now.” I don’t know why I would ever question Colby’s judgment of Sam. He knew him like he knew himself; I should have known they could communicate without even speaking at this point.
”It—It's okay,” Sam choked out. “Fuck—Colby, fuck her.”
I swore I met god from the sound of those words on his wet tongue. 
A string of inaudible expletives rushed from Colby's mouth as he crawled up to eye level with me. 
And he couldn't even wait. 
He pulled himself from his underwear instead of taking them off, and my head tossed back when his wet tip slipped across me. My hands grappled for anything to hold on to for support. I couldn't contain myself or control my movements, not when Colby felt like heaven incarnate.
Sam's hand came up and pinned my wrist to the pillow next to my head. I whined for release but didn't do a good enough job escaping his grasp; his fingers slid up and interlocked with mine. 
“Can I? Inside you?” Colby gasped. 
“Inside me, fill me up please. I need—You know how bad I—”
“I know, I know,” he groaned before pushing himself fully in. 
A moan punched out of me and I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. Sam moaned as well and held my hand tighter. 
And as Colby fucked me like we would have no other chance, Sam thrusted into the bedding and pushed his hip against mine. 
“Feel—Oh my god you feel better than I imagined,” Colby moaned. 
“You imagined me?”
“No shit,” Sam bit back in spite. Colby only moaned louder and shoved my knees back further. My moans lifted to nearly a scream and Colby clasped his hand around my throat. 
“Sh, only I can hear you, baby.”
“And Sam, right?”
“Fuck,” Colby laughed. Maybe I couldn't see him but I heard the blush. “Only if you can be good for him too.”
“I can be good,” I whined. Sam moaned and his hip pushed tighter into mine. 
“Let go Sam—My hand, let go,” I forced out through the moans, and he did. Immediately I lowered my hand in between us and slipped it under him. 
“Oh shit!” He cried and allowed me to wedge my way in between the bed and his insanely wet arousal. Between my sweat covering my skin alongside Colby’s and our pre-come saturating our legs and sheet, I should have felt disgusted. But it was heaven on earth. I wanted to drown in them. “Oh my god, you'll make me cum so fast,” Sam gasped into the pillow. 
“You're doing so good,” Colby's moan turned into a laugh. “Like holy shit—I'm fucking close too.”
“Harder, please Colby, fuck me harder,” I whined and his head tossed back. His skin slipped under my nails from the sweat so I couldn't leave marks so I yanked him down by the neck. His hand supported himself next to my head and he moaned as I sucked harsh bruises into his collarbone. 
And I pushed my hand tighter against Sam. His underwear were soaked and I just needed a little more—
“Oh—Oh my god yes, yes, yes—” Sam moaned as I shoved my hand in his underwear. I stroked him in time with his thrusts and there was something about the way his hips shook that ingrained in my mind. 
Colby gouged his fingers into the thick of my thighs and I couldn't help but hope there were marks for me to fawn over in the morning. And it was his turn. 
He leaned over me, and with his free hand, he held the side of my neck and kissed me into the pillows. I couldn't breathe between his violent thrusts and with his intoxicating taste in my throat, I let go of my body and let the boys fully take over it. 
Then another arm came up and pulled my leg back. 
“Sam—” I gasped his name when he inserted his arm under my leg between me and Colby. A gasp expelled from my used throat when he swirled his fingers against me. “Shit! There, there like that, oh my god!” I all but screamed. 
“Oh fuck yeah, does it feel good baby?” Colby moaned. “Does it take both of us to please you, make you feel good?” 
“Please! I'm so—”
“Holy shit, the rem pod!” Sam groaned. 
And he was right. 
I opened my eyes to find blue and red lights flickering in the dark abyss of a room and a loud shrill combined with our moans. Of course he was even prettier fucked out of his mind. Colby's hair stuck in every direction, and his lips parted in pleasure so I could see the gleam of saliva on his tongue. Fuck, I wanted him inside of me. Not even if he curled up in my bones would he be close enough. 
“What—What time is it?” Colby breathlessly tried to ask in a serious tone. 
Of course they would still be on the grind for work while fucking my brains out. 
Sam moaned as he leaned and grabbed his phone—
“Holy fucking shit no way; it's 3:33am now 3:34.”
“Jesus, fuck,” Colby gasped. I didn't give a fuck. I needed him deeper, closer.
“More please—”
“So needy, baby. Oh my god. Want more? Alright, let me—” Colby rose to his knees and pushed my thighs back again. “Sam finger her, use your fingers, yeah like that.”
My gasp caught in my throat when Sam slipped his fingers lower and joined Colby inside of me. This time I think I blacked out but I'm not sure; when I open my eyes, my tears blur what little exposure the rem pod lights give us. Colby’s blue hued face gleamed back at me blurry and Sam's moans flooded my side. 
“I'm cumming—” I whined. Colby nodded his head furiously. 
“Shit yeah, cum—cum for us,” he praised. And Sam fucked his fingers deeper and finally found that spot inside of me—
My orgasm crashed into me before I could prepare myself and I closed my eyes and allowed the pleasure to take me. 
Sam's moan was next, and I felt him cover us with his warm fluid. I made sure I stroked him harder until his hips painfully pinned my hand down and rendered it unable to move. His moans turned into whines from overstimulation and that was when Colby broke as well. 
“I'm—Holy shit I'm going to—”
“Fill me, Colby. Please I need your cum. Cum inside of—” I barely finished my sentence before he choked out a loud moan as well. With my name on his lips, I swore I could have finished again and again, nevermind Sam's fingers that still harshly worked me. 
It took a second or two and then Colby cried out with overstimulation.
“Sam—” he gasped, but as he pulled out, Sam got up to his knees and pinned me down. 
“Please, please, please! It's so much!”
“Let go, baby. Let go when you need to—”
“Sam! Oh my god—”
Another wave of pleasure drowned me and I held onto his other arm as he fingered me through the intensity of it all. After another few seconds, he pulled his dripping hand away. My entire body violently shook as I watched a cup full of my fluids and Colby's release drip from his hand. 
“Holy shit, you're so damn hot,” Colby laughed as he leaned back over me and kissed me again. He wiped the tears from my face. 
It took a few moments. 
For us to come back to ourselves, find our wits again.
The rem pod never stopped. 
Sam walked to the bathroom to clean up since he was the dirtiest. 
“Holy shit, what pervy ghosts—”
The rem pod stopped. 
“No fucking way,” Colby burst out laughing and I covered my face with my arms. “Stop,” he laughed and pulled my arms back. “How can you blame them? You're so hot, so sexy, the most beautiful thing—”
“Alright ew, get a room,” Sam jeered from the bathroom. 
“You're judging as if you didn't just finger her with my dick on your hand—”
“Alright I didn't think you'd say anything about that.”
“Aw, what, are you embarrassed that you touched his dick for the first time?” I teased. 
“And it's the fucking last time too; that was disgusting,” Sam complained as he washed his hands harsher. 
“I would have expected it to definitely not be the first time—”
“Shut the hell up,” Colby laughed. “Sam’s just judging me for telling you how hot you are, how beautiful and good you are—” I watched a sliver of Sam's reflection in the mirror as he smiled and shook his head. “—How much I love you.” 
My stomach dropped and my eyes looked straight to Colby. The bathroom orange light drenched his face with an overwhelming warmth I wanted to swim in. 
“Colby—” He held my face in his hands. “Love you.” The sentence only just fell from my lips before his met mine. 
“Okay, okay,” Sam said. “There's all the time in the world for the lovey stuff after I leave.”
“And this is the only time you'll be here for this,” Colby snapped back. My eyes widened. I didn't anticipate Colby's genuine hostility towards his best friend over me. 
“Colby,” Sam laughed. “I know. Obviously I know: she's been all yours from the start.” 
“What the hell?” I shrieked. “Am I the only one who knows about this?” The two burst out laughing but not without a thick blush on Colby's already flared cheeks. 
“Seems like it,” Sam laughed as he pulled on fresh underwear and clothes. 
“Okay,” Colby sighed. I gasped as his arms tucked under my worn out body. “Let's clean up so we can actually have a good sleep.” 
I held onto him as he carried me to the bathroom. He turned on the shower as I pulled my hair back to keep it from getting wet. 
“Oh my—” He gasped a laugh when he looked in the mirror. Love bites lined his collarbones and slipped down his chest. “How are you so damn good at that?”
“I don't know, I guess you bring out the worst in me.”
“You have to be careful because I'll bite you back.” 
“Oh yeah? Maybe you should or else you're all talk and no bite—Ah!” With that coy smile he slapped my ass and pushed me towards the shower. 
“Get in the damn water, you're dripping cum everywhere.”
I couldn't open my mouth as Colby dropped to his knees in front of me. Ever so gently, his hands cleaned my skin with soft body wash until I was clean and smelled like myself again. He kissed my skin and trailed up my thigh. 
“Don’t,” I sighed as I brushed his hair back. It was soaked from being directly under the water. He looked up at me darkly; eyes bright blue again. 
“Can't wait until we go home.”
“And why's that?”
“Then I can finally have you in my bed like I've always wanted.”
“Colby is—” My tongue tied in my throat as the bashful smile fell. My heart slowed. I licked my lips. He stood to his feet. “—is that something you've wanted? Permanently?”
A slow nod from him had never felt this way before. 
“I've wanted you, permanently.”
“Let me go home with you then.” My arms wrapped around his neck. “I've wanted to be yours forever by now.” 
And he tossed his head back into the water with a wide smile. 
“Fucking finally.”
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The morning wasn’t kind.
The sunlight bit at our sensitive eyes, with zero remorse, as we tried to get ourselves together and ready for check out. We all were spent. Now it was time for a long—long—break in our own beds. 
When we made it to the lobby, it took all but three seconds for the other two guys to shine widened shocked eyes back at us. Of course I messed up; I miscalculated the height of Colby’s neckline last night, but could anyone blame me?
”Colby—You—Last night?” Nate gasped. They looked at me. 
“I—“
”Sam?” Nate looked at him. His face flushed pink as a boyish smile pulled at his lips. 
“Hey now,” his hands rose in self defense. “It wasn’t me and it’s not happening again if you really want to know.” Colby tried his best to hide a wide smile, but as he hooked his arm around my neck, he broke a laugh.
”Jesus Christ.”
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A/N: I am new here—to Tumblr (other than my account from 2013-2016 that popped off real hard rip)—and also Sam and Colby. I write predominately one shots for Dream Team, Corpse Husband, and Sam and Colby now. I dumped all my works on Wattpad—easy reads—and I got up to 3 Million reads on my Corpse Husband one shot collection, but Wattpad smote that shit.
Request anything—outside of my listed interests, I’m open to Jake Webber and Johnnie Guilbert but I don’t know much about them—and I will write it. I focus on 18+ writing so request anything in your wildest dreams, and if it somehow is too wild for me, I will let you know (but that has yet to happen).
Love, Rosie
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