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senseichaos · 3 months

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.... Consensual somnophilia w/ luci? 🥺👉👈

As you wish, my lovely anon and non-anon!

_____

IMAGINE

(longer imagine)

A thing Lucifer has always been into, with and without your knowledge is Somnophilia. The idea that he could use you whilst you lay asleep beneath him.

At first Lucifer was not exactly proud of this fact though, so for the first years of your relationship he said nothing about it. His daddy kink? Yeah he'll tell you about that. But for some reason this specific kink was just.. so embarrassing to him.

Until one day when you were the one to admit you like the idea of being fucked in your sleep, and you didn't miss the sparkling in Lucifers red irises. In a moment he was laughing about how stupid he was for thinking you would be weirded out by this kink- especially when you've been together for 3 years at this point.

So you both made a system. Whenever you went to sleep with his favorite shirt of yours, an oversized pink shirt with a duck in the middle, he was allowed to use you.

And today is the first day you've worn it. Lucifer was just washing up after your dinner and came back to your figure half beneath the covers wearing that pink duck shirt. Rather immediately that feeling of arousal came over him like a sound wave. One moment he was fine, the other moment his cock is hardening from arousal.

Slowly he crawls onto the red sheets, eyeing your thigh as it pokes from the covers above you. He has to be careful about this, because if it's up to him he doesn't want you to awaken until his cock is nestled inside of you.

He pulls the sheets from you carefully, thanking the gods that you are laying on your back so the act will be easier. Fuck he can't even begin to take his eyes from you. You aren't wearing any pants! Pussy nice and ready for him as if you had fingered yourself just before you fell asleep, which he assumes you did judging from the wetness on the sheets beneath you.

His duckling even readied herself for him! He could almost imagine you fingering yourself open for him, scissoring your fingers inside of yourself as your wetness coats your fingers, biting your lip as you try your hardest to keep your moans quiet so you don't spoil the surprise. Oh, how he doesn't deserve this from you. He doesn't deserve to have you laying here fast asleep ready for his cock. But he'll take what he's being given from you because he needs it more than he likes to admit.

"My precious duckling, awe.. how cute," He says to your sleeping figure, dragging his hand through his hair as he looks down at the obvious erection in his trousers. Grinning to himself he unbuttons his trousers and lowers the fly down, before pulling them off completely and discarding them across the room (happening to land on a pile of his rubber ducks).

Then he removes his shirt, unbuttoning it and slowly letting it fall off himself to the floor next to the bed.

All that is left is the blue boxers with the rubber duck pattern across it, obvious erection poking into the fabric. It almost hurts, the hardness of his cock poking so harshly into the right fabric of his boxers.

He dips his hand into the fabric and wraps his hand around his shaft, pulling it from his boxers with a satisfying 'plap' against his abdomen. He should really take his boxers off too, and he knows this. But he can't stop himself anymore. You're in your most pliant state, so in a rash and quick movement he places one hand next to your head to hold himself up whilst the other positions his shaft into you.

In a slow push he sinks his shaft into you, watching your soft sleeping face as it reacts to the pressure of him inside of you. He places a soft hand at your hip, massaging the skin hypnotically as he continues to push his hips forward until his entire length is buried to the hilt inside of your tight hole.

He can't conceal that heavy groan that leaves him, his eyes completely set onto your face. That pretty fucking face of yours as he ruins it.

He serves you a harsh thrust, immediately setting a ravenous and hungry pace with his hips. He can't help it, watching your face as it awakens with a gasp, lashes fluttering as you familiarize yourself with your surroundings and the situation you're in.

"Gh, daddy.." you whimper, eyes soft and teary as you look up to his own. He smiles softly, yet doesn't break his thrusts as he purrs into your ear: "Shh shh, my duckling. Go back to sleep, daddy will be done soon he pwomises," he finishes his sentence with a teasing cute tone, giving you a short grind before going straight back to those hard and almost painful thrusts.

He watches as you nod softly, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax under his hand. Each thrust sends you into a sort of trance, especially when being awoken to daddy's cock fucking into you at such a pace.

"Fuck, my good little duckling. Hm? Yeah, so good letting daddy use you like this," he says, sharp teethed smile glinting with his dominant demeanor. You only reply with a small tired whimper, slightly strangled under the pleasure he gives you.

The hand he has on your hip quickly moves to your thigh, pushing it down so it's pressed against yourself in such a way to give him more leverage with his thrusts. He watches your brows furrow tiredly, a gasp for air coming from your cute plush lips. The pleasure is too much for you, and you are beginning to feel that knot inside you coil so hard it begs to release.

"cum.. please, daddy.. m' need to cum," you beg at his mercy, not opening your eyes and whispering it so quietly Lucifer is happy he heard you at all beneath the sounds of his skin against your own.

"Cum for me, cum on Daddy's cock duckling. Do it," he says, thrusting slightly quicker as you let out a strangled whine. You release strongly, pussy clenching around him so hard his own orgasm begs to release itself.

"Fuck, so good and sleepy for me, hm? Daddy's gonna cum now, okay? Yeah," He says, hardly even thinking about his words as his eyes flutter closed with pleasure, giving you one last thrust before he cums, grinding himself into you as he empties into you.

"good, duckling.. shit.."

But you'd already fallen back asleep. He wonders if he can go again.

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader hazbin #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer

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hightowered · 6 days

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and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.

it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.

the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.

and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.

"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.

anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.

because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #could this rollout have been handled better? sure! but for the love of god the way y'all have been reaching to demonize them #steven in particular #it's frankly pretty horrifying #like y'all actually behave that way? and are proud to have a record of it?

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ghouljams · 2 months

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“#distribution system is a pillow Princess/sub!ghost fic”

😳 h-holy shit. I think the world went white when I read this. Like a flash bang went off. Oh my god.

You hold his face between your hands, your thumbs gently stroking over his scarred cheeks. Your eyes are so soft, they look at him like he's something fragile, something precious. Ghost holds your wrists like a lifeline, desperately begging to be grounded in this moment. Your lips move without sound, he wishes he could hear it, could hear your voice like the trumpets of revelations. The light shines behind your head like a halo, it must be a halo, divinity shining through your skin. Everything hurts.

"Stay with me," He begs, his throat dry and his bones aching.

"Of course," You pet over his buzzed hair, your voice as soft as early spring, "I'm not going anywhere."

You kiss his temple, let him settle his hands on your waist and lean into the touch, hungry for it. You're not going anywhere. He's not either, this is the last stop. He can just be here. Ghost traces his fingers over your skin with reverence, his eyes on yours as you tip his head back. It's good, you're finally in your rightful place over him, larger than life in all your kindness. He could let you swallow him whole, he wishes you would. Then he could be a part of you, a part of something worthwhile, something good and kind. Whatever he's done in life-

"Stay with me Simon," You murmur, as if he'd ever want to be anywhere else. Of course, he wants to echo, of course. You lean to brush your lips over his cheek, it hurts, white hot just under his eye. You slice your line through him, ask again, your voice so distant and yet so close beside his ear, "Stay with me."

His lips move around your name, breathe in, exhale. His hands hold you, drag over your skin as he tips his head to press his lips against your neck. Can he have this? Is this allowed? Are apostles meant to worship their god through such sinful means? He slides his hand between your legs, rubbing his fingers through the wet heat he finds there. You're so soft.

You whine, such a pretty noise, and he kisses you again. He mumbles your name against your skin, traces his lips against your pulse, desperate to feel your life. Everything he does is for you, every breath he takes, every beat of his heart, each blink, each touch of his fingers. Nothing matters to him like you do. You're so warm, dripping over his hand, the noises your sweet pussy make when he presses his fingers into you are perfect, and obscene.

"My Simon," You breathe, "You're so good for me." It hurts between his ribs, cracks his sternum, you could take him apart with so many words. "You never tell me what you want," You coo, "Never ask for anything."

"Want to make you come," He mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain of it, he doesn't deserve to ask for your love, but he can approximate it, "want to be useful to you."

"You are, Simon," You whisper, he jerks against you at the jolt that goes through him, "because I love you."

It spins in his mind like tires stuck in mud. It's not right. He wants it too badly for it to be right. You couldn't. Even when he was leaving you couldn't. Ghost swallows. It's cold in here.

He blinks his eyes open to a hospital ceiling. Everything hurts. He reaches his hand to feel whatever is covering his left eye with a grunt of pain. His fingers twitch and another sharp jolt of pain zips through him.

"I wouldn't," Price tells him. Ghost turns his head to look at him, adjusting to the new blind spot. He's sitting in an arm chair beside the hospital bed, his chin perched on his palm, fingers curled over his mouth and leg bouncing. Ghost wonders how long it's been since his last cigar. Price sniffs. "Down two fingers, gonna hurt for a while."

Ghost turns his head to look back at the ceiling. The fluorescents buzz, a whine only he ever seems able to hear. At least the sky would've been a nice thing to end on.

"Nearly lost you on the table," Price continues, Ghost can hear him standing, "I'll let the nurse know you're up."

Ghost swallows again, tries to feel his tongue in his mouth, so dry it may as well glue itself to his teeth. "Where's my wife," He croaks. Price's footsteps stop, something heavy falling over the air. There are a thousand things he could say, a thousand comforts he could offer.

"You're not married," He tells him, and leaves.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x you #f!reader #I know I've kept it gender neutral so far I'm sorry #I'll get back to that but I love hearing Ghost say “my wife”#captain john price #price is truly the villain of this fic and I love it #the ghost distribution system #sub!ghost

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thatsmybook · 1 month

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Just rewatching the documentary and just before 4 mins in, Lisa is explaining to Omar her thought process for what will be the main dilemma/ crux of the show, and it made me realise what exactly Simon was saying when he broke up with Wille at the end of Episode 5. He was saying: I've seen what the monarchy does to you and how it hurts you, I've experienced it myself, so I have additional empathy for how that must feel for you. Also, I, too, am being hurt by it (see all of season 3 when he's not smiling with Wille). I thought I could try it out for your sake to see if I could handle it because you're worth it.

But after spending the birthday day with Prince Wilhelm and the Royal Court, he sees that it will continue to hurt both of them, and there will be no respite, things will only get worse. He has seen Wille get worse right in front of him on that day. It is poisoning Wille, and he is becoming someone he doesn't recognise. Simon decides that he does not want that to happen to either of them. The only thing he can do is leave the system so it can stop hurting him. Unfortunately, because Wille is entwined with Prince Wilhelm, it means he has to leave Wille too.

To me, by staying with Wille, Simon is condoning bad behaviour or the status quo by just going along with everything the Royal Court says while they both slowly deteriorate. So though he leaves Wille to save himself, he is also saving Wille because he is showing Wille that this is not alright, boundaries have to be put in place somewhere and Wille needs to start setting some boundaries for himself too. If Wille thought that Simon would stick around to support him and occasionally be someone he could lash out to, then he may not have felt the need to save himself from the monarchy. Because Simon is around to hold him up.

So for King Wilhelm truthers, Simon is required to know his place as an aid to the King, whilst suppressing his own pain and never putting pressure on the King by asking for help with his own issues. There is never a time when they would be equal in their relationship, even in private, because everything about Simon's values, ambitions, and passions would have to be deleted. King Wilhelm's needs would come first. This is what class does. It sets up hierarchies of certain humans' needs being more important than others and even that certain humans are superior/supreme to others. Therefore, to function, it needs lackeys who know their place to serve those on top. Hillerska, as an institution, is a mirror of Simon's relationship as a partner for the next king. Hillerska being closed is the equivalent of Lisa abolishing the monarchy. (By the way, there's a real-life incident of the 16 year old Prince of Denmark having to be removed from his elite school when issues of sexual abuse and other scandals came to light. This happened in 2022).

On a side note, this made me think about the Duke's role as consort and imagine that that would be Simon's role to model himself on. If we want Wille to remain as a Crown Prince and have his boyfriend, do we want Simon to become as bland and ineffective as the Duke is, where all of his focus is solely on the Queen's needs. Smoothing over any rough patches with innane conversation and totally neglecting and not 'seeing' his child. Simon deserves to be himself, as does Wille.

#young royals #young royals spoilers #wilmon #simon eriksson #prince wilhelm #lisa ambjörn #young royals forever #yr s3 spoilers #know your boundaries #love yourself enough to walk away #don't put up with mental abuse for love

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homely-lunatic · 6 months

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one of the things I think is rly interesting about the usher kids' deaths is that there's a clear linear pattern in how much influence verna has on the way they die, starting with virtually no influence and ending in a death 100% orchestrated by her.

like okay. perry's death? completely his fault. the only influence we see verna have on him is in her attempts at convincing him to call off the party and not blackmail people. the acid was already in the tanks, he made the negligent decision to hook up the tanks to the water system without testing them. if he'd never met verna, the party would have gone on exactly as planned and he would have died via acid rain anyways.

then there's camille. her death is similar to perry's in that there's a clear cause -> effect of her breaking into a lab full of chimps hyped up on adrenaline -> being mauled by a chimp, but there's also little hints at verna's interference. camille talks to verna right before she dies, its implied via the photo she takes that the chimp that killed her appeared to her as verna for a moment, and there's also the question of how the chimp got out in the first place. yes she probably would have died in this manner anyways based on her own decisions, but there's slightly more of a direct influence from verna than perry got.

with leo, we know that him initially killing pluto was a hallucination thanks to his drug use, but I get the impression that everything that follows is a blend of verna messing with him and further drug-induced hallucinations. the pet store he visits is actually an abandoned building full of rats that verna alters his perception of, and his visions of her in his apartment definitely feel more verna-induced than drug-induced, yet there's also kind of the implication that all the stuff with the hammer leading up to leo's death is drug hallucination-related. we also see verna appear to him multiple times; she's not just a single mysterious figure at a party or a lone security guard, she's now running a store and coming to his house and talking to him on multiple occasions.

vic is similar to leo in that her death is caused by a slow descent into madness, but the way in which this plays out is directly caused by verna. yes vic was planning on going forward with human trials, but verna is the one who shows up and poses as a test subject. there's still ambiguity when it fully comes to the question of supernatural influence, and verna's insertion into vic's life was more specific than leo's but also broad enough that its reasonable to argue that things might have played out the same had she not been there. would everything with ally dying and vic spiraling have played out the exact same way if the human trial had happened later, or if another test subject had showed up? maybe, but the actual course of events that transpired only happened because of verna's direct influence on them.

but tammy was terrorized for weeks by verna before she died. verna shows up as a replacement escort, then continues to show up in the background of tammy's life. she shows up in her apartment, appears to her in a supernatural-ish way at the goldbug launch, and when it comes to tammy's actual death she's in there fucking with her through the mirrors. I guess you could argue that she still wouldve gotten super paranoid over the launch and maybe started to hallucinate the original escort following her? but unlike the rest of them (except vic, who I feel also falls into this category), her death doesn't feel like it would have necessarily played out the exact same way it did had verna not been there. she only dies because she smashes a mirror that verna is taunting her from.

and then finally frederick, who didnt get a choice (not that he deserved one), verna steps in and 100% causes his death in a very specific way that wouldnt have happened had she not directly interfered with his life.

and then you look at the fact that the siblings died in reverse order of age, which is also in the order of shortest amount of time spent as a member of the usher family to longest, and the fact that the two who objectively had the most interference from verna in their respective deaths were the only two who were actually alive when roderick made the deal..... idk I feel like there's something there.

#fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher

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puppykento · 1 month

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higuruma is a munch :3 - hiromi x fem!reader [drabble]

a/n: i am so normal about him... and his nose ahahaha

cw: 18+ content, oral(f!recieving), multiple orgasms, mentions of p in v and creampie

After a hard day at work, there's nothing Hiromi wants more than to bury his face in between your thighs. He's not ashamed how much he enjoys it - he loves the way your hips buck up into his face, and your hands grip and tug at his hair. The only thing that can make the tension drain from his body from hour after hour of dealing with clients is to be buried face first into your needy cunt.

He's already got his head between your thighs before he's even got his blazer off, kneeling at the floor by your feet as you sit on the edge of your bed. He shucks his suit jacket off once his tongue dips into your slit, gathering the slick that spills from your drippy hole. One hand remains firmly on your thighs as he moves to untie his tie with the other, slipping it lose and popping a few buttons of his shirt.

Once he finally feels like he's free to eat you out to his heart's content, he's looping his arms around your thighs and tugging you towards his face. His nose bumps against your clit every time he dips his tongue into you, greedily slurping up your juices. He moans as you cum on his tongue, the vibrations sending shock waves of pleasure through your system.

Hiromi loves you, but he eats your pussy for himself. One orgasm isn't enough for him. He wants to hear your pretty cries, see the tears build up in your waterline. He peers up at you through his lashes as his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, keeping them spread as he continues to fuck your cunt with his tongue while grinding his nose against your swollen bud. His cock is achy and straining against the fabric of his suit pants, but he hardly even notices with all his focus on you.

He doesn't stop until he's fully satisfied, until you're trembling and screaming his name with every flick of his tongue. Only then would he finally free his cock and pound you into the mattress like you deserve, stuffing you full of his cum. Finally, Hiromi's found a way to unwind after work.

#nyx drabbles☆#higuruma♡#hiromi higuruma x reader #hiromi higuruma x you #higuruma x reader #higuruma smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi x you

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 15 days

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What I Mean When I Say, "I Ship Huskerdust"

When I say, "I ship Huskerdust," I don't mean that I think it would be a perfect example of a healthy relationship. Because it wouldn't be.

They've both got issues that they would need to work through if they wanted their relationship to succeed.

On Angel's side, there's the fact that his prior interactions with Husk basically consisted of him flirting with Husk, and Husk making it clear that he wasn't interested, and Angel ignoring that and doing it again. That's harassment.

Yes, Angel stops doing it after Episode 4, but he never explicitly apologises for it. That was a missed opportunity, in my opinion. It was a change for the show to say loudly and clearly, "Hey, trauma sucks, we get that, but it's not an excuse to treat people badly yourself. You grow by owning up to your mistakes and trying to be better than the person who hurt you."

Speaking of trauma...

Angel is being abused by Valentino and exploited in the porn industry. That's not a personal failing. It's not Angel's fault. But it has affected him deeply, and it's something that he and Husk would need to work through.

It's not going to be all sunshine and rainbows. Angel will cry, Angel will get angry, Angel will lash out. He will behave inappropriately, and he will keep being hypersexual because he knows how to do it and sometimes it feels like the safest option. And he will have no idea how to just rest with a loved one and trust them. So Husk will need to be the bigger person and take all the ups and downs and keep loving Angel through the dark days.

But I don't know if Husk has what it takes to do that.

That leads me nicely onto the issues on Husk's side. For starters, there's his judgemental attitude. He's a gambler, and therefore believes he can read people and know everything about them. Angel's "It's not an act!" outburst shakes Husk and makes him realise that he didn't really know what was going on.

But even after that, Husk is still judging Angel. It happens in Episode 6, when Angel is offered drugs by Cherri Bomb and Husk says, "Look, you wanna fuck up all your progress, be my guest. I just ... I just thought you were better than that."

Addicts can relapse if they go back to their old environments and old relationships. It happens. And it's probably not a good idea to be so condemnatory about it.

Can you imagine what Husk's reaction would be if Angel really did relapse? Would Angel feel safe opening up to Husk again if he knew how badly Husk could take it?

Sometimes, it seems as though Husk puts Angel on a pedestal. In Episode 8, when he tells Angel, "I guess you have changed," Angel doesn't look convinced, instead changing the subject. Husk sees Angel as better than Angel thinks he is.

And that goes hand-in-hand with when he was judging Angel more harshly in earlier episodes. Husk applies higher standards to Angel.

I think part of the reason why Husk is so hard on Angel is because Husk sees something in Angel that he doesn't see in himself - youth and potential. Husk has made it clear that he isn't trying to get into Heaven. He probably doesn't think he deserves it. That's why he told Angel not to look for answers to problems at the bottom of a bottle, but continued to drink himself.

My theory is that Husk is working on Angel because he finds it easier than working on himself.

It's much easier to judge and boss around others than to acknowledge and rectify your own flaws. To borrow a metaphor from Jesus Christ himself, Husk is trying to take specks of sawdust out of Angel's eye while he's still got plenty of planks in his own eye.

One of those planks being his complicity in the Overlord system.

Yes, I should probably mention that Husk used to be an Overlord. He used to participate in the very system that is now trapping and torturing Angel.

And he gambled with the souls that he owned! He put their afterlives at stake! Can you imagine being owned by Husk, thinking you knew where you stood, and then waking up one day to be told that you were now owned by someone else? Potentially someone as bad as Valentino?

(Now, I don't think Husk ever actually played a game with Valentino, given that he can't seem to remember Val's name in Episode 6, but still, the implications are horrifying.)

Angel didn't have too big a reaction when Husk opened up about his past. But that's probably because he was still reeling a bit from his own outburst. Once it had sunk in, how did he feel?

How can Angel feel safe and loved around someone who used to own souls and gamble with them carelessly? Someone who apparently still has his Overlord powers? Someone who could turn into yet another Valentino in the wrong circumstances?

How can a romance work?

Can a romance work?

Despite all of that?!

No, when I say, "I ship Huskerdust," I don't mean, "I think they're fluffy and adorable and 100% unproblematic." I mean, "Huskerdust contains interesting dynamics that are fun to explore." There's something about their interactions that I enjoy.

And Huskerdust could be a good way for the cartoon to dive into its themes of redemption and second changes.

Husk could change Angel for the better. We can see that, after Episode 4, Angel is willing to be more honest about what he's going through. He actually tells Niffty about the gruelling 16-hour shift Valentino put him through, instead of trying to pretend he's been all right.

If they became an official couple, Husk could show Angel what it's like to have someone genuinely care for him and his wellbeing, not just use him for money-making or self-gratification. Since Husk isn't interested in Angel's hypersexual porn star persona, it would be a chance for Angel to take the time to figure out who he (Anthony?) really is.

Angel could change Husk for the better, too. Other Tumblr bloggers have pointed out that Husk seemed to be drinking a little less after Episode 4. Perhaps watching Angel attempting self-improvement encouraged Husk to give it a go as well, albeit in a more low-key way.

And if Husk was the one who got Angel out of his contract with Valentino, that would be a great culmination of his character arc. It would be his own personal redemption for participating in the cruel Overlord system, because he'd be freeing someone from an Overlord's control. He'd be correcting his past mistakes. I for one would love to see that in a future season.

That is what I mean when I say "I ship Huskerdust."

TL;DR Angel and Husk are not perfect people, not by a long shot - but they could be perfect for each other.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #anthony hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel anthony #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #cherri bomb #niffty #sir pentious

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shoyoist · 1 year

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Can i ask for ego smut😳 i feel like he'd be really into bondage and choking. Imagine him just talking to someone on the phone and his other hand's just wrapped around y/n's neck and fucking her dumb then if she ever makes a noise he'd just insert his index and ring finger in her mouth to shut her up aaaaa

content: f!reader. unprotected sεx, light bondage, a little choking, gagging, edging, fucking while on a call. slight dumbification. an: you're so right nonnie!! except instead of his fingers in your mouth, he got a pretty present to help you stay quiet instead.

— . ｡˚ ♡ ego enjoys testing your limits and seeing if you break.

you're starting to feel dizzy.

ego leans back in his chair, letting out an irritated sigh into his phone as the JFC head on the other end of the line continues to blabber.

he talks casually, sounding bored as he rolls his eyes while going “yeah, yeah” like he's annoyed by whatever they're saying to him. “sure, i don't care. just get the system installed before the end of the week.”

he doesn't bat an eye, doesn't even let out a hitched breath — to give away the fact that he's got you sitting pretty in his lap, your cunt wrapped around his cock. it's like you're not even there.

but you are. you've got a cute little heart shaped ball gag in your mouth, and his free hand is lazily wrapped around your throat.

every now and then, he'll nudge his cock deeper into you, and you whine pitifully, teary eyed and impatient because he's been on that call for twenty minutes now, having picked it up right after he'd pulled you into his lap and got you to sit on his cock.

he's not taking care of you, even after he promised he would.

and he's even got your hands tied behind your back. you can't even help yourself. your clit's aching, begging to be touched — but his hand has remained around your throat the entire time, only once skirting downwards just to give your hip an absentminded squeeze before going back up.

“mmh,” he hears all your little whimpers and whines, but he pays zero attention. the only give-away that he's enjoying this so very much is that his cock throbs inside you with every pathetic flutter of your walls around him.

“mm, ego-san.” your words are barely coherent, tongue held down by the gag, and your voice is all pitched and slurred anyway, but he knows you're saying his name. he knows exactly what you want.

and he's not going to give it to you. not until he's done with this call that he's purposefully dragging out as long as he can, asking the JFC guy for more stuff to spark more protests and arguments from him so that he could stay on the phone longer.

will you be good for him? will you be his good, pretty little cockslut and sit on his dick and behave for him until he's done? he knows you will.

you're a good girl <3 that's why he likes you. because he can push at your limits, play around with you and toy with you as much as he likes — and you'll take it.

his eyes flash behind his glasses as you slump forward, lashes fluttering as you try to remain focused, doing your best to be patient. you twist your wrists behind your back a little, letting out a little, helpless sigh as the rope chafes at your skin.

sweet, pliant little thing.

he knows you won't cum until he tells you to. he knows you'll drive yourself to tears and sob, getting all hot and messy on his cock as you try to control yourself, as you try to shift into a less stimulating position. he knows you'll do your best and follow all the rules he's laid out for you.

which is why once he's finished with this call (in ten more minutes? fifteen minutes? twenty?) he'll untie you, admire the rope marks around your wrists and arms for a bit — and then bend you over his desk and fuck you dumb.

it's what you deserve <3

he plays a fair game, after all. if you do as you're told and give him what he wants, he'll reward you with what you want — to cum and make a mess all over his cock as he fucks you and fills you all up.

#₊˚ପ⊹ REKHA™.#₊˚ପ⊹ NYCHTA.#SOBS trying so hard to make my posts prettier in a way that #scratches my itch just right ueue #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #ego x reader #jinpachi ego x reader #jinpachi ego smut #ego smut #ego jinpachi smut #ego jinpachi x reader #blue lock drabbles #bllk x reader #bllk smut

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bakugoushotwife · 7 months

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kinktober day ten: breeding kink

>>> so i actually think he would be able to get his partner preggers but that's because i say so xoxo but also bc maybe ce doesn't affect the reproductive system?? idc if it does he deserves a family!

>>> starring: choso kamo x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: breeding kink thank you, pregnancy kink, choso is obsessed w his wife hours, oral (fem), creampie, >>> wc: 2.2k >>> event masterlist:

he’ll never forget the day you told him you were pregnant. it was something he had considered impossible, to the point he never bothered wearing a condom or cumming anywhere but inside you. seeing you pregnant only made sure those things wouldn’t change. you were already so perfect to him that it was almost unnerving, even all these years of marriage in. he fell in love with you the moment he met you back in shibuya, but somehow you had become even more beautiful to him.

he was obsessed, almost to the point of embarrassment, if choso understood the concept in regards to his love for his wife. but he wasn’t shy about being yours. it was all so new to him, the idea of fatherhood, viewing you as a mother, watching you change before his very eyes and all the long doctors appointments. he loves it though, oddly enough. especially the notion of being a dad and watching your body and mindset shift and grow.

choso can tend to be clueless due to his rather unconventional navigation of life, but ever since he learned how to work a cell phone, the internet has been his very best friend. unfortunately, yuji can give some very…troublesome advice. choso thinks it’s a miracle he’s still alive at times. so google can help in ways his earnest younger brother cannot, giving him multiple opinions and sources on what to do and how to do it. he spends hours of his time researching how to care for you; wanting to know if it was normal to be this attracted to you while you were all moody and pouty with just the start of roundness at the bottom of your belly—the jury was still out on that one, by the way.

one thing that was normal was your increased need for him, not like he was complaining. he loved this side effect the most, able to satiate his perverse desire to keep stuffing his already pregnant wife full, relishing in how eager and frankly nasty you had gotten. you were damn near insatiable, and choso thought he was in heaven for it. all through your first and second trimesters, you couldn’t get enough of him—and the feeling was mutual. as you grew larger and the house became cluttered with baby shower gifts and preparations for baby kamo, he continued to clock hours towards his family. he read article after article on parenting, actively assembling the nursery and searching up names with you. he was beyond joyful, still unable to believe that you were growing his son or daughter within that gorgeous body of yours, your breasts had started to swell and your hips had begun to spread. he loved every second of this: your neediness, everything about how you look while making him a father, and the way his friends circled around him and became such a supportive family.

his thoughts bordered on crazy, a haunting desire to keep you like this all the time, lounging around the house in your pretty maternity dresses doing nothing but being waited on hand and foot; relaxing while stroking your swelling stomach. it’s what suited you best, he thinks—stretched out along the couch basking in the rays of the sun beating in through the living room window, snacking on a fruit board he made you and baby. he’s nearly foaming at the mouth, your long robe-style dress clinging to all the delicious curves of your body; the light cotton seemed to outline your heavy boobs, tight around your semi-hardened nipples. it hugged your six-and-a-half-month sized bump, your other hand resting there protectively. choso was stuck in the moment, trying to commit every detail of you to memory. he almost didn’t hear your chortle of disbelief.

“you said what, now, babe?” you whip your head towards him, heart fluttering violently at what he uttered— you needed him to say it again. it was easy to grow addicted to your husband, building his spawn had you needier than ever. even the smell of him had you going absolutely feral level insane even though this pregnancy had been the highlight of your life so far. you thought your clinginess and desire was driving him to his own insanity, figuring he must hate tending to you and your attitude as of late. you must have just heard him incorrectly.

“huh?” he blinked, violet eyes refocusing on your plush lips speaking to him. “what did i say?” he asks, just as confused as you are. his cheeks darken anyways, as if you caught him doing something naughty, which only makes you believe your ears were in fact not deceiving you.

“you said you should keep me like this all time.” you chuckle, full on tilting your head towards him from your spot on the sofa. he averts his gaze as soon as you meet him, and you let out a teasing fake gasp. “my husband wants to keep me barefoot and pregnant, huh? you know that’s pretty outdated…”

he shakes his head, embarrassed immediately. great, now you thought he was some sick perv, which isn’t completely off base, he guessed, but still! it wasn’t like that, he didn’t view you like some machine built only to churn out his kids and cook him dinner!

“n-no! i mean—you look great like this, b—”

“i’m just fucking around, love. i thought it was sexy.” you grin, throwing a wink his way. he clicks his tongue at you and huffs at the teasing, even though he’s definitely intrigued by the latter half of your sentence. you arch your brow, waiting for him to ask for clarification. you could see him fighting it in his head before your very eyes. the scrunch of his nose tells you that you’ve won.

“yeah? what’s that supposed to mean?” he says from his spot in the recliner nearby, always opting to be close to you. you smile knowingly at him, humming in thought mostly for the dramatics.

“mayhaps i enjoy the idea of you keeping me pregnant…especially if i get spoiled like this every time.” you giggle, shrugging a little bit. “maybe i’ll feel differently after i actually have this one.” you pat your tummy affectionately, and he thinks he may be drooling. you always play so coy, but he can see the way you rub your thighs together and the clouds that darken in your sunshiney eyes. he may be regularly clueless, but the one thing he knows all too well is your body.

“hm, i think it’s because you’re a sex-crazed maniac now and know pregnancy gets you off the hook.” he deadpans, though his heart is beating rapidly in his chest and in his cock. you call his bluff, rolling your eyes viciously.

“isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.” you huff, spreading your legs out on the couch in a silent command. he smirks, not at all caring that you caught him. he nods a bit, holding his hands up.

“got me. i just didn’t know how much i would love this.” he says, the husk in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. your thighs press together when he obeys your body language, rising from his seat and making his way to the couch. he sits at your feet of course, smiling so sweetly. his warm hands gently pry your knees apart, and you wonder if he knows just how seductive the look he gives you is. his chin is angled down, hooded purple eyes singing a siren song that makes your legs fall apart again and your fingers pull at the tie keeping your dress together. he growls at the sight of your exposed body, his hands rubbing trails from your knees to your hips and down your thighs again. “you’re so perfect…can you blame me?”

you roll your eyes but wear a stupid grin at his praise, shaking your head to his question. you knew better than to be insecure over your changing body, especially with all the extra attention it’s garnered you. truth be told, you had never felt more beautiful, the life growing inside you breathing new life into your own appearance, and your husband never missed an opportunity to make you feel like a goddess amongst mortals. he would never dream of making you uncomfortable or asking you to accommodate him, so he folds himself into the space he has so that his face hovers above your shiny middle. his breath alone makes you moan, a hand flying up to cover your embarrassment. you always react like you’ve never been touched before and choso loves it almost as much as the sight of your round stomach and even rounder mounds above. he brings his thumb over you, wanting to watch you as he draws slow circles over your hardened clit. he hums, a little smile on his face as you jerk and squirm. your hips buck into his mouth instantly with cute whines slipping past your lips as your hands struggle to reach for his collarbone length black hair. he leans up a bit to help you, just the feeling of his rough thumb pad against your need turned you into a mess within seconds.

“nngh–oh choso, feels so–mmph good already.” you gasp, hands dropping to fondle your aching breasts. he nods and sits up to spit a warm and fat glob on your cunt, his thick thumb dragging it all over your spasming need. the lewdness of his action coupled with the nonchalant way he watches, tongue poking around your hole like nothing ever happened, has your brain spinning without much effort. your hips drive into the relief he offers, chasing your orgasm like you’d never before experienced one—despite the clear proof otherwise. he allows it, never in his life would he keep you from feeling good. he’s honored to be the one who causes those pretty sounds to fill the room, to be the father of the child making your beauty so ethereal, to be the man tongue deep in your perfect pussy. “gonna–ohhhh–”

your sweet release coats his tongue, his thumb still working you down slowly so he could relish in the face you make from sheer pleasure. he sits back up, a little more comfortable on his knees as he leans over you to give you a sloppy kiss filled with your own essence. he’s had to be much more careful since you’re getting bigger, but he doesn’t mind making sweet love to his beautiful baby mama. you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping his mouth against you while his hands are busy freeing himself from his sweatpants. you gasp into his mouth when you feel his length parting your folds and prodding at your hole. he only nibbles at your lip to tell you that he’ll be gentle, sheathing himself within your wet warmth slowly. you tense around him and relax, sighing happily at the feeling of him rocking into you at a tender pace. he moves his kisses to the sides of your cheeks, your jaw, picking up his speed until he has to sit back up properly to angle himself right.

“more, you’re not gonna break me daddy.” you pant, hand braced on the ridges of his defined abs. he sighs begrudgingly, only because he’d been repressing the same urge ever since you welcomed him inside. he relents, lifting one of your legs to rest against his hip before driving into you a bit harder. you moan wildly and nod, nearly screaming. “god—just like that.”

“anything for you mama, s’cute you need it hard, such a good girl letting me get a little rough.” he grunts, squeezing the hold he has on your thigh. you feel so different, still so tight and warm but with a different kind of wetness. he’s a mess too, championing himself with that nickname you bestowed upon him. his strokes are so well-timed, letting you feel every drag of his cock against you, the tip of him nailing the spot you need him most. “so perfect. you gonna let me keep this pretty hole bred?”

you nod, the words sending you close to your tipping point. you shake your head, too gone to speak to let him know that you were going to cum. you don’t have to tell him though, he can tell from the intense fluttering of your sloppy cunt, and he’s happy to have lasted this long trapped in your clutches. you’re slapping at his stomach, legs shaking around him as you scream again, the sound so primal it sends goosebumps prickling along his skin right before he’s stuffing you full as if you weren’t already carrying his seed. you squeeze down on him, making sure he empties his balls in you. he stays there until he goes soft, and then he slumps against the side of the couch. your giggles make him perk up, his violet eyes cutting over to see you crawling towards him with a mischievous glint to your eyes. he knows he’s right when you swing your leg over his lap, angling him back inside you.

“don’t worry—just wanna sit on it.” you titter, wrapping your arms around his neck again, pressing your body as close as you could for a hug. he twitches from sensitivity as you lower yourself back over him, but a smile spreads across his face all the same.

“how many kids can i give you, mama?” he groans in your ear as his arms tighten around your waist securely.

#jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #jjk smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #choso jjk #kamo choso

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dizzycoffee · 2 months

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Can I please request Vox x Angel Female Reader where Vox is in denial of his feelings over an Angel who is really kind, soft, caring, helpful and is always mindful of others

(PS: Reader prefers cuddles, kisses, hugs, caressing Vox's screen or wrapped him in Reader's wings and not have any sex)

— Vox / Angel!Fem!Reader; Headcanons

ACK absolutely LOVE this prompt omg !!

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ HEADCANONS ･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

When I say you drive him insane, you absolutely drive him insane

He hardly remembers meeting you — even if he did, he's sure that would've also made him go crazy

One night he was completely fine, the next he found himself in bed, heart pounding in a way he hadn't felt in a long time

What mainly drives his denial is the simple fact that you're an angel

He shouldn't be feeling this way over someone who can kill him (whether you're an exorcist angel or not)

Even if he did want to indulge, he himself was an Overlord of Hell, one with great power, far from any sort of redemption or anything alike. He felt like he was the last to deserve a literal angel to be by his side

"That damn bitch—" he grunted out, buffering a bit as he gripped the door of his bedroom for a sense of support. His other hand came to grip his chest, feeling the way his heart went rampant. Your giggles and laughs, the way your feathers felt underneath his touch... you. It made him go dizzy, a craving feeling bubbling deep within him. Why the fuck does he feel this way?

At first, he thought he was just horny. That had to be it, right? Just had to have you for a moment and let it leave his system

The next time you came over to see him, he tried to initiate something, but you almost immediately shut that down

You didn't outright say "ew, sex" nor did you push him away. When he grabbed your waist, you let him pull you close. You could see right through his actions, and he knew that

Yet all you did was let your hands caress the edges of his screen, wings fluttering around him and securing him in your embrace

Feeling you so close without an ounce of sexual tension made his heart ache in both guilt and love

How dare he try to corrupt you in that sort of way? You're an angel. You're nothing like him or anyone here in Hell for that matter. You don't belong here, just like he doesn't belong in your arms

I swear this man has an inferiority complex and you can't tell me otherwise LOL

He'll continue to deny his feelings for a long time

While he does begin to indulge in your presence, the two of you even going as far as sharing kisses and cuddles, it will take a while before he decides to put a label on your relationship

The feeling of not being good enough for you will remain for a while too. He feels that one day you'll move on to the next demon to warm their heart and leave him

You always reassure him, always kiss him and tell him "it's okay to love" and that he "deserves to be loved"

Your eyes watched over his slightly drowsy figure. Vox laid in bed, body facing you as his arms were secured around you. His eyes were shut, a soft vibration emitting from him. A gently smile plagued his lips. You couldn't help smiling yourself, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

#vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox headcanons #vox x reader #vox x y/n #vox x you

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whatstheoccasion · 10 months

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"You are the rock on which I stand, Steady me, please take my hand, Hold me now until the break of day."

— Charles Wiles.

Pirates don't help people, he used to spit. I was not born into this world to help anyone.

Yet, as the fabric of your shirt softly shifts up your skin making you shiver, Law finds himself unable to stop the hand raising his blanket, keeping you warm.

You're not just people, though, he poorly excuses himself. You're more than just anyone to him.

Which is why he pretends to not notice how clingy you get when the sun's barely peeking through the windows, warm and bright enough to make out the shape of your face, features he awkwardly traces with the tip of his fingers, finding himself needing the intimacy, this closeness with you.

He cherishes these slight pieces of yourself you only show him. Asleep, vulnerable and soft to the touch, trusting this callous man to keep your dreams safe, Law has to bite his tongue to hold himself from repeating the same three little words to you like a fool.

He chastises himself for even thinking about it.

And then you start to wake up, with bloated cheeks and messy hair, your eyes still fighting sleep, and God, it's useless, Law thinks. It's an urge too hard to resist– but he refuses to say it out loud. He's content with protecting you as it is, tightening his blanket around you and trying to fix your hair.

Will it be too much for you, he wonders, impatiently waiting for your eyes to fully open, if he physically gives you his heart to keep, to protect?

"Law?"

You shove your face further down his neck, eyes scrunching in a tender way that makes Law's hands clench and unclench with the need to touch.

He hums low on his chest in response, bringing your body closer to his. When you don't continue, eyes closing again, he grumbles out, "Morning."

He feels your smile on his neck, one sleepy kiss pressed against it. "Good morning, love."

It hurts.

Up to this day, Law's guilt clenches with a vice-like grip around his chest, reminding him how he doesn't deserve this warmth, this forgiveness you give him.

It's a hole his heart still aches to fill– this disgusting need for affection, a need he can't allow himself to ask for out loud, but one he desperately looks for anyways.

When you're out and about on a new island, linking pinkies and pressing your side against his, teasing him for his pink cheeks and burning glare.

Aflot in the Polar Bear, dragging his tired self up deck to get some much needed sun in his system, his palms tingling where your hands held him.

On nights he's blessed with your pleasure, where he's insatiable until he makes you his– unsatisfied until every part of you is marked with his name, his traces.

So when you pull him closer to you now, he doesn't say a word. He doesn't tease you like he would any other day, doesn't call you out on how your body seems to always gravitate towards his– today he's not sure if his good intentions would come clear enough, and what if one last remark is what pushes you to finally leave him for good?

Law instinctively holds you closer, letting your body soothe his restless mind. You're here. You're staying. You love him.

You hug him even tighter in your sleep, entwining your legs together, impossibly closer to eachother. He's usually not positive for anything, but you're for sure a gift from his loved ones up above, because only those who cared for him enough could guide you to him.

He has one final thought before dozing off again, as the tiny fluttering of your eyelashes on his skin and the slight rise from the waves of the New World lull him to sleep, carrying so much fondness he doesn't even put up a fight when his eyes start to drop.

His heart is staying right where it belongs.

#trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law fluff #one piece scenarios #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law scenarios #im still not back yet. but kindly take these crumbs #this is cheesy and cavity inducing but im feeling soft for this boy #also been in my drafts for way too long it was either posting it as it is or delete its existance. existence?#english hard TT #also a lil bit. just a bit #of #law angst #would probably edit later!#law fluff

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bitchy-craft · 5 months

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Messages From Your Inner Child | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what your inner child wants to tell you. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people; therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterpost > Questions > Paid Readings

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

You need to open yourself up to your own emotions, to your own trauma, to your own perception of yourself. Take control of everything that has held you back, is holding you back, at least try and continue to do so forever and ever. You can do it, I trust you, I believe in you, for if you can't do so yourself.

People do help you, if you have a partner, they are a great help, but you do rely on them. The close people around you, your partner, they make you forget about how you feel about yourself, about all those terrible things you wish and tell yourself, but they don't make it leave, they just make it hide.

Love yourself. I know that it's hard, that your past and present doesn't often make you feel that way, often the complete opposite, but try to like the way you look, try to love the way you are, try to accept all the little things that make you, you.

Pile 2:

Don't be too quick, you have time enough, even if it doesn't feel like it. Enjoy those short moments of happiness, try to enjoy the moments of peace. Don't be too hasty in growing up, go back a bit if needed, even if the enviorment around you tries to force you to grow up more quickly, to ignore those feelings of childhood happiness you really need.

Don't constantly compare yourself, you're fun and beautiful. You're a joy to be around, spontaneous and intelligent, interesting. Don't be so hard on yourself, mistakes have to be made to learn and grow, something you have all the time for. Find your own pace in growing up, and try to figure out what things you can do to prevent you from stress, even if removing all factors is impossible.

Don't look back at the past with regrets, look at it with understanding, acceptance, and intellect. Instead, look at the future and the oppertunities ahead.

Pile 3:

Look at things with peace and understanding. Try to learn how you can look at decisions and calmly think of the possibilities you can do with either of them. Try to grow from your indesiciveness in such a way you don't feel sad about the oppertunities of the other choice, look only at the positive things of the thing you did choose. You'll find how much calmer your body will become.

You can depend on others, you can ask others for help, you can, and you're able to. Of course, suddenly taking such a big step can be incredibly difficult, but try and start with little things, with the people you trust and/or feel comfortable with. One can achieve much with little steps, so feel comfortable with doing such.

You have many people that love you, enjoy your company and like being your friend, even if you believe that's not true or you don't deserve it. You have a support system, and please, feel safe enough to use it and break out of this cycle.

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nonstoplover · 1 year

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flashes of silver ~ lewis hamilton (lh44)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: with the annual fia gala coming up, lewis decides to do something as a kind of thank you to his hard-working team, and invites one of the girls working for mercedes as his plus one.

words: 3.4K

warnings: cheesy fluffy stuff; a possible age gap if you squint your eyes but nothing actually mentioned; probably not accurately written shop scene (if you can't tell, i've never been in any fancy shop lol)

a/n: i had a dream. one simple dream that pulled me out of the past few months' writer's block. it was a bit of a struggle though to kinda get back into writing rhythm but whatever. i needed to get this out of my system before i go mad. first lh44 fic also!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

"I don't have any dress that's good enough for a gala," she shakes her head ferociously, her eyes not leaving the man standing before her. She still can't fight the small voice in her head telling her that it's just a joke. A prank, probably for the team's social media pages. Why else would he approach her with something so ridiculous?

Under her curious, cautious gaze, Lewis just reaches into his pocket, and without breaking eye contact for a single second, pulls his card out and places it on the desk in front of her. "Go buy yourself something then. You deserve it anyway."

All words leave her mind, it's like her vocabulary has been completely erased. The only thing she can do is allow her eyes to widen in sync with her lips, as she tries to comprehend what she's just heard.

"Come on, take it," he encourages with a small smile.

When she still doesn't move an inch, the man playfully sighs, extending his arm to grab the card once more. With his other hand, he reaches even further, under the desktop to take hold of her hand resting on her lap. A gentle but still dynamic movement later he's pried her fingers open and placed the card in her palm. His own fingers stay there, flesh to flesh, for a second longer, before closing her fist around the plastic and retreating his touch.

As the air-conditioned, cool air hits the back of her hand again, (y/n) wakes from her trance. Her eyes flash up and down a couple times, from the driver to the card and back again. "I can't spend your money. I won't spend your money."

"I have more than enough, it's okay."

"That doesn't change what I said."

"(y/n), please. I already told the entire media team that I'm taking you. I told even Toto." Lewis presses his hands against the wooden surface and leans against it for support as he continues to stand at her desk.

The way he keeps on insisting this for the past five minutes makes her start to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he actually means it, and this is not a joke.

"Why?"

He can still hear the disbelief in her voice, and has to control himself not to roll his eyes as he giggles. "I already told you like twice since I came here."

"But it doesn't make sense. I mean, I get it, you wanna give something back to the team for their hard work or whatever, but why don't you take literally anyone else than me?"

"You're next in line," he shrugs.

Why do his eyes always have to be so kind and so lovely and so heartwarming and so–, she stops herself before she spirals down that rabbit hole again.

"You've been working here for years, having my back all the time, and so I figured it would be a nice thank you, from me to you."

"You know, an actual thank you would be sufficient," she smiles lightly up at him after a second of silent ponder – the first crack in her indevout façade, and the first tiny wave of relief in his body.

"Okay, you know what?" Lewis pauses, waiting until her eyes flash with pure curiosity, all caution forgotten. "We're going dress shopping together. Right now."

(y/n) lets out a chuckle that comes to an abrupt stop when she sees him hold his hand out, palm up and open, obviously waiting. For her. He means it.

"I'm working," her mind says the first response it can come up with – earning an imaginary slap when she actually realises what she's just said.

(y/f/n) would kill me if she heard this, she thinks with certain memories of her avid LH44 fan best friend appearing in her mind. Who in her right mind would find an excuse to say no to an offer like this from Lewis Hamilton himself?

"I'm sure your boss will understand if you tell him who you were with and why," he chuckles, the sound making the tips of her fingers tingle and her heart flutter.

"Oh, right," (y/n) lets out a laugh, cheeks turning red in slight embarrassment as her eyes flicker down to the keyboard sitting in front of her. Her boss, Toto Wolff definitely wouldn't mind if he already agreed to this crazy plan previously.

"So, you coming?" Lewis wiggles his fingers, gathering the girl's attention. She slowly raises her head, mentally preparing herself for what she's about to do, then as if the world has abruptly changed to slow motion, (y/n) watches her free hand move up and a long second later arrive into his still waiting palm.

Just in time with his fingers tightening momentarily around hers, she can hear her own laughter jingle loud. Is this a dream?

"You're beautiful," Lewis greets her as the chauffeur closes the car door behind her, his smile creating wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – something she's always found absolutely adorable.

"Thanks," she mumbles in response, struggling to keep eye contact when she notices the intense look in his gaze.

"Maybe you could give me your stylist's number."

Upon hearing this, (y/n) can't help but glance at the driver sitting next to her, lips curling into a wide grin, exactly how he wanted. "I don't know, I'd have to ask him first to see if he agreed," she answers and they let out a giggle at the same time, both of them remembering that one afternoon a few days back.

"We really shouldn't go in here," (y/n) stops short on the pavement, her heels pressing down on the asphalt.

"We really should, though," Lewis grabs her hand without even glancing her way, pulling the girl behind him right into the shop.

"Lewis!" she hisses, stumbling in her steps as she rushes to keep up with his relentless pace. "One dress here costs more money than all I've ever earned."

"Then it's good that I already told you I'm paying," comes his immediate, somewhat deadpan reply.

He doesn't stop and doesn't let go of her hand, not until she's in the spacious changing room in the back of the extremely fancy dress shop, along with a mountain of colourful, unambiguously expensive materials. "I'll be out here waiting," he announces, then leaves her with the shop assistant, drawing the heavy, thick curtain closed behind him.

What feels like a million dresses later, the young woman helping her dress lets out an approving gasp, loud enough that even Lewis can hear it from the other side, as he's scrolling on social media sitting in the almost overly comfortable armchair, the sound piquing his interest. With one firm push to her shoulder, the woman twirls (y/n) around until she comes face to face with the huge mirror.

The silver silk is still rippling around her legs from the sudden movement, reflecting the light and thereby making her practically shine. It's modest, with thin straps on her shoulders and the neckline not too revealing, a monochrome, bright silver dress – and (y/n) has to admit to herself that the material tightly hugging her torso is the most magical thing her skin has ever touched. She feels almost royal in it.

For the first time since they've arrived in the shop, she doesn't feel like a clown and all ridiculous when the curtain gets pulled back and Lewis raises his head to catch a glance at her. Her skin tingles and heart flutters as his eyes move down and then up again on her body just like they did several times in the past hour or so – but the nervous feeling finally gets replaced with something new, something exciting.

One simple, consenting inclination of the man's head in an upright motion, and time speeds up. The next couple minutes go by in a blur, and by the time she at last emerges from the changing room for the final time, now in her original clothes – that feel almost painfully too ordinary after the magnificent dress – Lewis has already arranged everything, and is simply waiting for her at the counter.

(y/n) thinks about the excitement she felt when she woke up in the morning, knowing that in a few hours, her dress will be delivered and she can feel the smooth, cool silk wrap around her body once more.

Now she allows her eyes to truly take in the man next to her, curiosity getting the best of her as she shamelessly checks him out. He refused to let her know what he's going to wear, only making her a promise that they're going to match. Now his body is wrapped in a suit, one that's seemingly made from the same silver silk that she has on, with something white peaking out from under it – but (y/n)'s just unable to look away from the suit itself, not even for a second. She can't help but think about how regal he looks, how he's so easily going to outshine anyone in the room. How the two of them are going to shine together. Silver, like the team they both work for. Like the Silver Arrows.

"Like it?" His voice breaks her out of her trance, and she blinks the thoughts away, hoping the makeup the girl Lewis was kind enough to arrange for her applied some time earlier effectively hides the flushed colour of her cheeks.

She nods. "You look amazing. As always," she adds, almost as an afterthought, eliciting the famous giggle from his lips, and thereby sending the flutters in her whole body into overdrive.

"We look amazing, love," he smiles, momentarily reaching over to squeeze her hand that's laying on top of her thigh, and she has to focus with all she has not to reveal in any way the effect him calling her that has had on her.

How on Earth did I get into this situation?, she wonders, eyes frantically searching for the familiar sight of Lewis in the crowd of people.

As soon as he's left her side, people flocked her like predacious birds. Not just some people, no. People who've been waiting to catch her alone ever since they arrived. People whose work includes creating drama with made up stories and rumours all too often. Journalists.

(y/n) sees no way out as they keep trying to make conversation with her, their questions whizzingly filling her ears and mind.

"Are you his girlfriend?"

"How long have you been dating?"

"It must be serious if he took you to a gala like this, is it?"

"How can someone like Sir Lewis Hamilton, dream of millions of women, who could have anyone he wanted, choose someone like you, plain, and really, a nobody?"

This is the question the driver hearswhen he gets back from the counter offering drinks, a glass each in his hands. His eyes widen, realising his mistake of leaving her alone even for only such a short time. He should've known better. He should've expected journalists here, who would come up with their theories, just because his plus one to this event is a woman they've never seen, at least definitely not with him before. He just assumed – mistakenly, as he can now see – that to a high prestige event like this, such vultures won't get invited.

This is the question that makes his mind cloud with anger. How could any person in their right mind say this to someone, anyone, but especially to such a gorgeous young woman that she is. Without a second thought, he pushes care out the window and behaves on instinct. With a softly spoken pardon, he pushes his way through the group of journalists, stepping up to her side. Even in his slightly foggy state of mind he can see – or more likely feel –the way her shoulder drop a little, relief obviously coursing through her veins finally as she moves just an inch closer to his body. Seeking for protection.

His arm moves next, on its own accord really, as he hands her one of the drinks he's brought, then using his now free hand to snake it around her waist, pulling her tight into his side. All this happens in one short second, and in the next one, he's turning his head to press a soft but lingering kiss on her temple.

Then, as if he's just remembered the gathering of people around them, looks away from her once more, searching non-stop with his eyes until he finds that one journalist who said the final question before his arrival, his stare turning cold and almost deadly. He can faintly hear the girl next to him stutter to get an answer out, but precede her with one simple sentence aimed mainly at that person his eyes are still trained on.

"You mean, how could someone like me get a woman so breathtaking as her, right?"

A beat passes when no one speaks, when no one seems to dare even to breathe, then he continues, his stare finally moving back to (y/n), gaze softening. "Because to be honest even I don't know, still looking for an answer."

Lewis smiles, sweet as ever, as if nothing like that death stare has just happened, before lifting the glass in his hand to take a sip. As the alcohol swirls around his tongue, a sudden thought pops in his mind, and within a second, he's reaching out, and with the backs of his fingers he touches her jaw, to make her turn her head towards him gently. Then, like nothing is more natural than this, he leans in and presses a kiss on her lips. To try and make what he's said even more believable.

The prior couple seconds have already left (y/n) completely bemused and speechless, but this one action of his tops them all. Her heart nearly jumps out of her chest, and she can feel her eyes being extremely wide from the surprise she's feeling, his words being on constant replay in her ears. As her mind slowly catches up to her and realises what he's most probably playing at, she pulls herself together to play her part, not wanting to ruin the act and thereby making a fool out of him – meaning simply melting into his kiss, which is really not that hard, to be frank.

As he pulls away, Lewis gazes at her a little longer than he was necessarily supposed to, then with a simple, murmured excuse us to the journalists and with his hand leaving her waist only to intertwine their fingers, he pulls her away from the spot. He keeps on moving until he's pulled her into an empty corridor, not stopping until he makes sure they are fully alone – leaving that one journalist to stand in shame, while the others can't help but think slyly about what the reason behind his hurried exit with his girlfriend could be.

In line with his abrupt stop, he drops her hand immediately, turning towards her in one swift motion with an unexpected shy, apologising look in his eyes. Before she can gather her thoughts and say anything, his voice already rings out in-between the walls of the corridor. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable – and I truly hope I didn't – and I definitely did not just use this situation for my own gains, to get some juicy stories of me in the papers or whatever, and I will never step over these boundaries again, I just wanted to stop that bullshit that journalist has started."

Thoughts finally start to make sense in her head again, but before she can get a word out, he rambles on. "And I want you to know that what they told was completely wrong. I meant it, what I said back there, word for word. Well, except the part about me getting you since obviously we're nothing like that, but I just wanted you to know that it's the truth."

He would probably keep on talking if it wasn't for her hand gently being placed on his forearm. (y/n) smiles up at him as echos of his last, firmly stated sentence still faintly ring out. "Lewis, it's okay." The driver stops and takes a breath. "You didn't have to do it though, it's not your job to... protect me from anything, especially not from what random people say."

"I know, but I wanted to. Couldn't bear it if I knew you lived on with these words in your head about yourself," Lewis replies with a small smile finally once more gracing his face.

Her eyes break the eye contact as they move down to inspect her shoes, her cheeks suddenly feeling quite hot. "Thank you. It was very lovely of you."

When he doesn't say anything, she takes a deep breath, and with that, looks back up again only to find him wordlessly watching her. Her glance flickers to his lips, noticing some residue of her lipstick smeared around his skin there. With eyes widening, she's fast to reach up and wipe it off, mumbling under her breath something about the deep red colour.

Those heavy brown eyes of his don't leave her face, following her every movement, and the same thoughts come back to his mind that he was thinking right after that very kiss. As if she could read his mind, she continues speaking, now a little louder, braver. "Especially the kiss," she says, though with an even darker red shade colouring her cheeks. "You definitely didn't have to do that, it was believable enough without it."

Lewis thinks for a second, eyes focused on her lips for a moment longer – something that she just catches when she finishes wiping the residue off –, then his glance moves further up her face to stare into her eyes, with an abrupt seriousness and determination gleaming on his face.

"And what if I say that it wasn't a part of that whole play pretend? Not really."

Her breath catches in her throat as her mind scrambles to comprehend his words and what he could possibly imply with them. "What do you mean?" she mumbles in the end, the tips of her fingers starting to itch in their sudden shaky state.

"What if I say I wanted to kiss you in that moment?"

Lewis takes a long second to pause, in which he examines her reaction carefully to know if he should continue or not. He looks all around her face, searching for clues – and easily finding them. In how her eyes sparkle in a way he's never seen them shine before, how her cheeks are flushed bright pink, how her lips slightly open in shock but their corners are curling up into the beginnings of a smile.

He decides he can safely continue.

"What if I say I want to kiss you in this moment?"

Her fingers twitch, her heart skips a beat. In that same second, his fingers reach out to grab hers, pulling them to his chest, only to press them down right there immediately. Through the cold to the touch silk, she can clearly feel his heart beating in a rapid rhythm, almost equalling hers.

(y/n) lets her eyes follow their hands, momentarily mesmerised by how beautifully their skins blend into the other, through the cracks in-between his fingers that are nearly covering all of hers. Then her glance moves higher, right to his lips, before slowly, eventually arriving to his eyes. She doesn't find it in herself to speak, doesn't trust her lips and her voice to be able to say what she truly feels and means, and so only moves her head in the tiniest of nods, careful not to break eye contact.

Lewis has been attentively waiting for her response for several long seconds now, being ready for whatever it might be. When it comes, he jumps on the opportunity like there's no tomorrow, like he's scared she might change her mind if he waits a second longer, and catches her lips with his own in a single movement, once more in the past five minutes, but this time with much more meaning to it.

notes: oh god the way i pictured this so vividly in my head following nothing but a freaking dream my mind came up with... ever since then i couldn't get it out of my head. i know i didn't do it justice with how i've written it, but honestly? i just needed to write it down before i go crazy. (and to think that i'm not even that crazy of a lewis fan... what this could've been if i was?!)

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if anyone wanted an idea about the dress i had in mind while writing:

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