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#i never wanted him to know i was looking at cars but he found out and asked what they were so i listed them off
harrysfolklore · 2 days
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home hero - charles x reader
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gif by @princemick <33
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Monaco is Charles' home. Growing up, he had watched the Grand Prix from the balconies and rooftops, dreaming of the day he would stand atop the podium. Each year, the pressure mounted as he came so close, only to have victory slip through his fingers.
Today felt different. There was a determined glint in his eye this morning as he kissed you goodbye and headed to the track. You could tell he was ready, more focused than ever before. You had to believe this was his year.
"Are you nervous?" you asked, leaning against the kitchen counter asyou watched him get everything he needed before heading out.
"More than usual," he admitted, flashing you a quick smile,"But I feel good. I have a good feeling about today."
"You’ve got this, Charles. I believe in you," you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.
"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you," he hugged you tightly, resting his chin on top of your head.
"You'd still be amazing," you said, looking up at him,"But I'm glad I get to be here with you."
You arrived at the circuit, the familiar roar of engines filling your ears as you made your way to the paddock. You found your usual spot in the Ferrari garage, the team bustling around with last-minute preparations. You exchanged nervous smiles with the crew, all of you hoping for the same outcome.
You watched as Charles went through his pre-race routine, meticulously checking everything himself even though he trusted his team completely. He looked up at you and smiled, his nervous eyes softening the moment they landed on you.
"Hey, come here," he called softly, waving you over.
You walked over, taking his gloved hand in yours. "You’re going to do great, you know that, right?"
"I just," he sighed, "Really want that win, you know? Not just for me, but for my family, my friends, for us," you smiled fondly at his words, "This is my home and everyone believes in me, I don't want to keep letting them down."
"Charles, you've never let anyone down," you squeezed his hand, "You've given everything you have, every time and that's why everyone believes in you. No matter what happens today, you're already a champion in our eyes."
"You're too sweet," he teased with a small smile, pecking your lips quickly, "I need to go. I'll see you after the race."
"Be safe out there," you said, giving him one last lingering kiss.
You watched as he made his way to the car, taking a deep breath before climbing in. The race was about to begin, and the anticipation was palpable. You found your seat in the garage, eyes glued to the screen, heart pounding with every lap.
As the race progressed, it was clear that Charles was driving with everything he had. Lap after lap, he maintained his position and defended his lead against the competition.
With only a few laps to go, the tension in the garage was at an all-time high. You could barely breathe, every fiber of your being focused on Charles and the car.
And then, it happened. Charles crossed the finish line and the checkered flag was waved, securing his first win at the Monaco Grand Prix. The garage erupted in cheers, and you felt tears of joy streaming down your face.
He did it. He actually did it.
Before you even knew what was happening, you ran to the pit wall, heart soaring with pride as you watched Charles climb out of the car, his face a mixture of disbelief and pure elation. He waved to the crowd, taking in the moment before making his way over to the barrier, his eyes searching for you.
You pushed through the crowd, your heart racing as you made your way to him. When he finally saw you, his face lit up with the brightest smile you'd ever seen.
"Charles!" you called out, your voice cracking with emotion.
"We did it!" he shouted, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly, his voice full of joy and relief.
"You did it," you corrected, laughing through your tears. "I'm so proud of you!"
"I couldn't have done it without you," he said, pressing his forehead against yours. "Fuck! I can't believe this is real."
You kissed him, a sweet and lingering kiss that held all the words you couldn't say in that moment. When you pulled back, you saw the love and gratitude in his eyes, and it made your heart swell with even more pride.
"Now go stand on top of the podium, you deserve it."
The celebrations were in full swing as it was time for the podium. Charles was greeted with cheers and applause from the team, his family, and the fans who had supported him through thick and thin. The Monegasque flag waving proudly above him.
The national anthem played, and you watched as tears of pride and joy rolled down Charles' cheeks. This was the moment he had dreamed of, the moment he worked so hard for. And now, it was finally here.
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hoesformatt · 2 days
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“YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT”
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chris smut, this was an old draft but i fixed it up and here we finally have the long awaited plug fic…
dom!plug!chris • poc!reader friendly
contains: mentions of smoking and drinking, choking, heavy petting, making out, edging, orgasm denial, cowgirl, pet names, no use of y/n
word count: 1.5k
not proofread
It was getting late, I was getting lonely and bored so I decided to go grab my smoke bag to find my tin. I got all giddy when I found my tin, but then my smile disappeared when I felt there was no weight to the tin.
Please tell me there’s something in here, please tell me there’s something in here, I repeated in my head but to no surprise, there was nothing but the whiff of weed and my hopes and dreams.
I contemplated on what I was going to do on my Saturday, either sit here and puff on my nicotine til I got nic sick, or call my plug aka my late night therapist, which I did not want to do.
He is my last resort call because of our history, my plug was one of the scariest people I’ve ever met and I try not to ring him too much because I do not want to see him… but I do at the same time. He is fine as fuck, I can’t deny that shit but I am petrified by him even so I’ve never given him my address and I always meet him at his place.
I decided to face my fears and shot him a text
Are u up?
What do you need mama
He replied immediately and called me that pet name that gave me instant butterflies
I ran out, I need a new pack of woods
it’s about fucking time
My heart dropped to my ass
you buy so much shit and then dip, I like seeing you
Fuck, what do I say. I was lowkey feeling how he was flirting with me. My thoughts were interrupted by another text
Let me pull up on you
Hell the fuck no.
The usual place?
Nah
Lemme pull up, it’s late and shit
It’s no problem, the usual place is good i’ll be there in 10
Being left on delivered, I was tripping out at this point. I guess I’m thugging it out tonight… sober. I grabbed my juicy peach ice, geek bar from the cushion beside taking a puff. May the pulse be with you I guess, I was thinking in my head too much, trying to remember where I put my blinker.
Hearing a car driving past my driveway, I glanced at my front door and the window beside it trying to see who is. A car door shut close and then the door soon began to jiggle and open.
I frantically ran into the kitchen but when I turned around and looked in the living room I saw my plug walking into my home, holding a plastic white bag, bee-lining for my couch “FUCK CHRIS, What the fuck are you doing here, how the fuck do you know where I live?!” This is exactly why I’m terrified of him.
My heart felt like it was beating 1000 beats per second right now, and it was not going down. It’s like he was a serial killer out for my blood. Apart from the fact that Chris walked into my house as if he owned it, I’m half naked wearing the smallest Ethika set ever.
My eyes almost instantly scaled to crotch, clothed behind his grey sweatpants. “I followed you home before” Chris had two paper bags, pulling out a dark liquor and a bottle of tequila. I was trying to still catch my breath, attempting to register everything at once. “Last time you needed shit it was around this time, a rando was watching you, so I followed him to your house,” Chris said it so casually, popping open the Hennessy “You have shot glasses? and chasers?” He looked up at me for a response.
Finally, I calmed myself down after he told me someone was following me and I just pulled out the glasses and sodas from my fridge “Get yourself one too” He suggested.
He then got up taking the can of Pepsi and the glass from my hands to my living room table. I slowly followed after him, finding my place, far away from him. “C’mere baby, don’t be shy” Chris gestured for me to sit beside him and I didn’t move an inch.
Chris grabbed his waistline pulling out a gun from there, tossing it casually across the other side of him then looked back at me. “Now what?” He arose from his seat to come and sit next to me, sliding a shot to me. “It’s too late for me to drink” I came up with a petty excuse. Chris scoffed, downing both of the shots without making a face, straight Hennessy.
“Ok.” He raised out of the position he was in taking the white bag beside him opening it pulling out packs of woods. “How much are you gonna buy then, since you want me gone.” I snatched two packs the Loose Leaf, Watermelon Dream from the pile, almost salivating about the thought of the high I was going to get. “Let me get my wallet” I got up but Chris’ legs were in my way “‘Xcuse” When I walked past him my ass brushed his face which Chris touched.
I gazed down at him, completely infatuated by my juicy ass, unable to keep his hands to himself. I brushed it off since I was too happy to care. I collected my wallet pulling out my cash, I handed it to him, still standing up “I don’t want your money” He said flinging the money in my direction. Chris’ glacial blue eyes fucked me, and he found it hard to control himself. I noticed his cock grew hard in his sweatpants, and he bucked his hips upwards, enticing me. “You know what I want.”
Finally I gave in, straddling his lap and his hands immediately pulled me down to press upon his hardness. I waved my hips, making him moan as I took control.
Chris grasped my neck with aggression while stripping me of my tube top, lowering it. He latched his lips to my nipples, moving his hands down to my hips and helping me wave them. “Take your shorts off.”
Raising me, I removed my shorts in anticipation as he set free his large length that slapped against his stomach. He whipped out a condom from one of his pockets sliding it onto his length. When I got back on his lap, he had licked his two fingers, dipping them into me then back out to lick his fingers. “You must love me with the way you’re so wet for me” Chris smirked, aligning himself to my pulsing cunt. He pushed my hips down to settle onto his cock, I threw my head back to the feeling of him stretching me out.
With no patience Chris began to thrust upwards with a tight grip on my waist, making my tits jump. I cupped my hands over my mouth because I couldn’t show him how good he was making me feel, reaching points I didn’t know were there. Chris smacked my hand "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you” The sounds of his raspy voice and the wet noises faded together, I felt our wetness puddle under me. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel” Chris whispered in my ear.
I couldn’t believe that he was making me cum so quickly and he knew it, so he took his thumb and massaged my clit relentlessly trying to get the words out of me. “Tell me.” I shook my head no but my body was beginning to grow tired. Then he stopped. He stopped thrusting into me and I whined, “If I don’t make you fell good you should do it yourself right?” Chris didn’t care at all and I needed my release badly.
I took both of his wrist, putting them behind his head to ride my high. My erotic movements made Chris twitch inside me as he hit wall to wall.
It was so addicting that I wanted to feel him raw inside me and when I pulled his cock out of me, the condom was coated his sticky liquids. I yanked the rubber off his length and it slowly rolled up until it was off and I threw it elsewhere, jumping back on his dick.
Chris succumbed to my wetness, whimpering loudly as I wrapped around him. I bounced on his cock, hoping that my legs wouldn’t give up on me but Chris suddenly decided to take control again and ram into me. “I need to cum, I need to cum, please, please” I begged Chris to let me cum, reaching my climax. “Yes Chris, yes, yes—” Just as I was about to cum, Chris pulled out again and this time he threw me back on the couch.
“Please Chris, why— ” He had put back on his pants, packing up the rest of his shit.
“I don’t fuck ungrateful whores” He said casually, gripping my hair and kissing my cheek.
tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @zayyluvz @i8kth @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @livvy4realll @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi
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cutielando · 8 hours
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can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?
a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!
♡♡♡♡♡
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You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood. 
Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.
Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.
You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.
It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.
He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.
Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”
It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.
Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.
He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.
It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.
And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.
But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.
“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.
But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.
You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.
Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking. 
“Are you okay?”  Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.
You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.
He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it. 
When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.
“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.
“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.
Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.
You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other. 
As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.
I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.
♡♡♡♡♡
Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.
He went to you.
He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you. 
Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.
“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.
He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did. 
Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.
“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.
Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.
Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.
The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.
“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.
“Yes, we should have”
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hookhausenschips · 1 day
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The Fastlane To Family {KR7}
500 Follower Special!!!
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Summary: The new rookie slowly becomes the on grid child of the Iceman.
Taglist
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As the newest and youngest member of the Formula 1 grid, I, Y/N, stood beside my race car, inhaling the mixed scents of burnt rubber and high-octane fuel. The roar of the engines filled the air with palpable anticipation.
I glanced around, absorbing the vibrant spectacle, the excited chatter of fans blending with the mechanical symphony of the pit lane. Yet, amidst all the noise and excitement, there lingered a silence in my heart—a void left by a father who walked away from our family when I was just a child.
Growing up, it was just my mom and me. She was my rock, cheering me on from karting races to junior championships. Despite her unending support, there was always a part of me that felt incomplete. I had a father, but I never really had a dad.
It was during my first official test as an F1 driver that I met Kimi Raikkonen. Known as the 'Iceman' for his cool demeanor on track, Kimi was a veteran of the sport, admired by many for his straightforward attitude and racing prowess. As I struggled with the complexities of handling my F1 car, Kimi noticed me.
"Remember, it's all about balance and knowing your limits," he advised one afternoon as he watched me analyze some telemetry data that looked more like a cryptic puzzle.
I nodded, feeling somewhat star-struck. "Thanks, Kimi. It's just a lot to take in all at once."
"You’ll get there. It takes time," he replied, his voice carrying a calming assurance.
After that initial moment of guidance at my first test session, Kimi’s role in my life began to deepen progressively. It wasn’t just about racing anymore; it was about finding a connection that spanned beyond the track.
Over the next few races, Kimi became a mentor and a friend. His advice was always practical, his presence reassuring. Somehow, he began to fill a gap I hadn't realized was so profound.
As the season progressed, Kimi taught me about resilience, about facing the media, and handling the pressures that came with the sport. His family occasionally visited the races, and I saw the loving father he was to his own children. It was in those moments I felt both a sense of warmth and a twinge of envy.
One evening, after a particularly grueling race in Monaco where I had spun out, Kimi found me sitting alone by the paddock, my head in my hands.
"Want to talk about it?" he asked, sitting beside me.
"It's just... sometimes I wonder if I’m cut out for this," I confessed. "I miss having someone to look up to. Someone who's there, you know?"
Kimi looked out into the distance before speaking. "I may not know all about your personal life, but on this track, you're never really alone. We’re a team. And if you ever need a bit of that... fatherly advice, I’m here."
His words were a salve to my bruised confidence.
A pivotal moment came mid-season during a particularly challenging weekend at the British Grand Prix. The weather was unpredictable, and so was my confidence in handling the car under such variable conditions. After a disheartening practice session, Kimi invited me to debrief over coffee, away from the bustling energy of the team garages.
As we sat down in the quiet of the motorhome, Kimi shared stories from his early days—mistakes he'd made and lessons he’d learned. "It's not just about fighting the car," he explained, "but cooperating with it, understanding it like a dance partner." His anecdotes were not only instructive but also peppered with his dry humor, making the lessons stick in a way that technical debriefs often didn't.
As the season progressed, our mentor-mentee relationship started to feel more like a friendship. Kimi invited me to join him and his family for dinner during a race weekend in Monaco. Sitting with his family, sharing laughs, and stories, I felt an inclusion that went beyond my expectations. His wife was warm and welcoming, treating me like a guest of honor, while his children eyed me with curiosity and shy smiles.
Our bond continued to strengthen as we faced various challenges together. During one stressful race in Singapore, where the heat and humidity tested every driver’s endurance, Kimi and I found ourselves fighting for podium positions. Post-race, exhausted yet exhilarated, we shared a long cooldown lap, discussing our individual races and the intense final laps.
“I saw you holding off Carlos behind you,” Kimi said, a note of respect in his voice. “You’re getting stronger every race.”
Hearing such words from Kimi wasn’t just a compliment; it was a form of validation from someone who had seen it all in the world of Formula 1.
Seasons changed, and my career in F1 began to flourish. With Kimi’s guidance, I improved not just my driving, but my understanding of the technical aspects of racing. His presence at critical moments of decision-making became something I relied on more than I had expected.
His mentoring had transcended the cockpit of a race car. Kimi had become a steadfast part of my life—a constant in a world marked by speed and change. Our bond, forged in the fast lanes, was built to last a lifetime, proving that sometimes, family finds you in the most unexpected places.
It was during a pre-race event that a journalist unexpectedly asked about my family. "I understand your father isn’t in the picture. How has that influenced you?"
I paused, looking over at Kimi who was signing autographs nearby, laughing with a young fan. Turning back to the journalist, I smiled.
"I grew up without a dad, that’s true. But I’ve found guidance, strength, and a bit of family right here in the paddock. Kimi’s been a great mentor and a father figure to me."
The racing season was nearing its end, and rumors about Kimi Raikkonen's retirement had been swirling in the paddock for weeks. However, nothing could have prepared me for the moment he confirmed it. We were in the team's motorhome when he gently broke the news to me personally.
"I think it's time for me to step back," Kimi said, his voice steady but his eyes revealing a hint of sadness. "Spend more time with my family, you know?"
I nodded mechanically, trying to process the information, but a storm of emotions was brewing inside me. As he continued to explain his decision, a sense of abandonment enveloped me, growing stronger and darker. It was as if history was repeating itself; just when I thought I had found a figure of stability and support, he was leaving.
"Kimi, you can’t leave," I blurted out, the words laced with a mix of desperation and anger. "You’re just like him—just like my father. You're walking away when I need you most!"
Kimi looked taken aback, his face softening. "Y/N, come here," he said, motioning for me to sit beside him. Hesitantly, I moved closer, trying to hold back tears that were threatening to spill.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Listen, I know this might feel like I’m abandoning you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I'm not leaving your life—I’m just leaving the grid."
The dam broke, and tears streamed down my face. "It just feels like everyone I depend on leaves eventually," I confessed, the pain of past and present mingling together.
Kimi wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a reassuring hug. "Y/N, I’m not your father. I won’t just disappear. I promised to be there for you, and I intend to keep that promise. You’re part of my family now, and that doesn’t end with retirement. You'll always have a place with us, at our table, in our home. Anytime."
His words, genuine and firm, slowly seeped into my heart, easing the ache with the warmth of his assurance. "You mean that?" I asked, looking up at him.
"I do," he confirmed with a nod. "And hey, I'll be around. I’ll come to races when I can. And you’ll always be able to call me, anytime you need—about racing, or about life. Anything.”
As Kimi’s retirement neared, our interactions became tinged with a sense of urgency, each moment feeling more significant. One late afternoon in Italy, Kimi and I took a walk around the track, discussing life beyond racing.
“What worries you about all this ending?” I asked, curious about his thoughts on leaving the world he’d known for so long.
“It’s a big change, sure,” he admitted. “But life’s about phases. You end one chapter and start another. And remember, leaving F1 doesn’t mean disappearing. We’re family now, Y/N. That doesn’t end with retirement.”
His words were comforting, especially as I grappled with my own fears of abandonment. Seeing how he approached his transition with a mix of realism and optimism helped me understand that endings were also beginnings.
As we continued walking, the setting sun cast long shadows on the track, and Kimi stopped to look out over the circuit. “Every turn on this track has a story,” he mused. “Just like every phase in life. Make sure you live them fully, no matter the challenge.”
The conversation lightened my heart and cemented a new kind of bond between us. Kimi’s retirement race came, As Kimi drove his final lap, the crowds cheers felt like a celebration of more than just his career. It was a tribute to the enduring nature of chosen family, to the unbreakable ties that we had formed.
I felt a surge of gratitude. I might have lost a father early in life, but in this world of high speeds and fierce competition, I had gained something invaluable—a family on the track and a father figure who taught me more than just how to drive.
As the fireworks painted the sky, I realized that family isn't always defined by blood, but by the bonds we create and the promises we keep. Kimi had shown me that no matter the distance, those bonds can withstand more than we sometimes believe possible.
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F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @evie-119, @dhanihamidi, @leclercdior
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hqbaby · 10 hours
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ten — jerk
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mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.8k content. profanity, mentions of reader’s not so happy life, alcohol consumption, violent confrontation, sexual content [oral m receiving]
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It’s been a while since Sukuna’s been to a party. “A while,” of course means two weeks in his world, but nonetheless it seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone to one. So when Mahito tells him that there’s a party happening near his dorm tonight, he really has no choice but to go.
As soon as he gets in his car to leave, the first thing he thinks about is you. Should he text you? Ask if you want to come? But he soon remembers that you have a test the next day and he doesn’t want you to go to class hungover.
So he tells you he’s going out tonight and wishes you luck on your test, tells you that he’s just a call away if you decide you want his company. He can’t help the smile that grows on his face when you respond within seconds.
you: thanks! have fun loser <3
He tucks his phone into his pocket and drives over to Aoi’s house.
When he steps inside, the place is packed. There’s a bunch of people dancing, a few that are already slurring from all the alcohol they’ve consumed, and more than enough girls clocking him and giving him goo-goo eyes.
“Sukuna! You’re here!” Mahito comes up to him, pats his back, and hands him a beer. “Didn’t think you’d show.”
Sukuna takes a sip of his drink and frowns. “What made you think that?”
The boy just shrugs. “I heard you’re all tied down now,” he says. “I assumed your girl wouldn’t be too happy with you coming. What with your… reputation.”
There’s a strange feeling that grows in your best friend’s stomach at the thought of you being called “his girl.” Weird, he thinks, but he brushes it off. It doesn’t mean anything.
“I’m still allowed to have fun,” he says, placing a hand on Mahito’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get a stronger drink,” he lifts his beer, “this is basically juice.”
Mojito guffaws. “Alright, big guy. See you around.”
Sukuna winds his way over to the kitchen and opens the fridge to find something stronger. He isn’t necessarily proud of his alcohol tolerance—you give him shit about it all the time—but he’s never been one to enjoy a party without being at least a little tipsy.
“Looking for something?”
He closes the fridge and sees a girl watching him with a smile. She’s leaning against the counter, all dolled up in a pretty little dress with a beer in hand. He swears he’s never seen this girl before, but it doesn’t matter. If there’s one thing Sukuna does best, it’s pique the interest of strangers who just so happen to be incredibly hot.
He holds up the bottle of gin he found. “Just something to drink,” he says, cracking it open and taking a swig. He holds it out for the girl. “Want some?”
Her red lips quirk into a smile and she takes the bottle, downing quite a bit of it before she hands it back to him. They pass the bottle back and forth until Sukuna drinks the last of it, emptying the liquid into his mouth.
The girl giggles, resting her hand on Sukuna’s chest. “That’s quite the introduction.”
“What can I say?” He grins. “I make one hell of a first impression.”
Now, the alcohol does its trick. He can feel himself get a little hazy, he can feel himself loosen up. And he can feel the awfully apparent hard-on in his pants as the girl leans forward and whispers in his ear, “Wanna have some fun?”
He doesn’t even think, instinct and intoxication kicking in as he says, “Sure.”
Sukuna pulls the girl into a bathroom and she’s on him before he can even close the door. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. It’s sloppy and messy, probably driven by booze, but he kisses her back.
He doesn’t know why. It’s almost second-nature to him, this whole song and dance. But as he kisses her, a part of him screams that what he’s doing is wrong. Why?
He pulls back from her and trails his lips down her neck, searching for the spot that has her moaning at his touch. It’s so predictable, so normal, the way she pants against him as his hands slide from her waist up to cup her breasts. Women are so easy, he thinks.
The girl’s hands move down his chest, past his abdomen, and land on his belt. She unbuckles it and pushes it aside, tugging his zipper down.
With a smile, she sinks to her knees and pulls his pants and underwear down. His cock springs out, already painfully hard. She bats her eyelashes at him and in a sickly sweet voice asks, “Can I suck you off?”
And Sukuna says the only thing he knows to say.
“Sure.”
The girl places her dainty fingers around his cock and pumps it a few times before she wraps her mouth around it. Sukuna groans and reaches for her head, guiding her to take his length all the way in. When she chokes a little at the sheer size of it, he closes his eyes in ecstasy.
As the girl bobs her head up and down his shaft, the warmth of her mouth pushing grunt after grunt from his lips, Sukuna’s mind starts to wander as it is wont to do at times like these. His pleasure builds with every flick of her tongue, with every touch of her hand. It’s been a while since he’s felt this good, he thinks—and then he remembers.
You.
He thinks of you padding around your apartment in that one worn-out shirt you’ve been wearing since high school. He thinks of you getting into his car after a day of class, immediately launching into a rant about your professor and your useless groupmates. He thinks of you lying in your bed beside him, that one night after you’d confided in him about your nightmares. And he thinks about how he’d looked at you then, when you were fast asleep, and he thought that you’d never looked so beautiful.
“I made a promise,” he’d said. “Let me keep it.”
His eyes fly open and he looks down at the girl with her face pressed against his groin. All at once, the pleasure fades, and all he’s left with is disgust. And guilt.
He moves the girl off of him and quickly tucks himself back into his pants.
“What’s going on?” she asks, getting up with a bewildered expression. She tries to grab him as he zips himself up and starts heading for the door. “Hey!”
He dodges her grip and shakes his head, grabbing the doorknob. “Sorry,” he says before he goes outside.
As he moves to close the door behind him, he stills.
Satoru stands in front of him, an arm wrapped around who Sukuna can only assume is his new girlfriend. He looks startled, confused. Sukuna feels his blood run cold.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” the girl demands as she comes out of the bathroom behind him.
Satoru’s eyes narrow. Realization. Anger.
Sukuna tries to get away before the situation escalates any further, but a hand grabs at the collar of his shirt before he can leave.
Your ex presses him against the wall. His eyes are dark and his other hand is balled into a fist at his side.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Satoru growls.
Sukuna pushes him off roughly and glares. “None of your fucking business.”
Satoru grabs Sukuna again and raises his fist, ready to land it on your best friend’s nose, and for a split second Sukuna has one thought on his mind: I deserve it.
“Satoru.”
Kimi’s voice is even as she calls out her boyfriend’s name from behind him. Satoru’s hand stops in the air for a moment before he lowers it and pushes Sukuna away. He backs up, but his eyes remain cold and hard as they shoot daggers at the man in front of him.
“Whatever,” he says, placing a hand on Kimi’s waist before he leads her away.
Just when he thinks it’s over, Sukuna feels a sharp sting on his cheek. A slap.
The girl whose name he doesn’t even know snarls at him. “Jerk,” she says as she gives him the finger and backs away into the crowd. “Asshole!”
Sukuna raises a hand to his cheek. He lets out a bitter chuckle. He deserves it.
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You blink as Sukuna’s messages come into your phone in quick succession.
booger: going to a party
Then—
booger: gl with studying
Then—
booger: and gl with ur test
Then—
booger: just call me if u want company
You snort. Most people don’t know this, but as his best friend, you know just how soft Sukuna can be. You call him out on it most of the time, make fun of him when he’s being excessively clingy or sweet, but you have to admit that you actually like seeing this side of him.
And the fact that this side of him only seemingly comes out for you?
Yeah, you can’t deny that you like it a lot.
You reply to his message and put your phone away to confront the pages of notes on the table in front of you. With a sigh, you grab a highlighter and decide to start studying.
No one knows this, but in your senior year of high school, you’d actually considered not going to college. You were definitely expected to, what with the path you’d paved for yourself, but after years of toiling away at your academics, you considered letting yourself take a break. And what with your family fracturing in the last few months of high school… It was safe to say that ditching college wouldn’t have been what was expected, but it might have been what you needed.
Then the offer came in. A scholarship for a school far away from home, one that would handle everything from your tuition to the better-than-most apartment you now lived in. It was the best-case scenario, only made better when Sukuna rushed over the morning your results came out to say that he had gotten in too.
You have no idea what kind of luck had suddenly been granted to you, but you never questioned it. You took what you could and ran.
Maybe you never stopped running.
You lean back in your seat and stretch your back, yawning as you look down at your notes. You’re nearly done, just have to memorize a few terms before you can turn in for the night.
You glance at your phone. It’s been surprisingly quiet tonight, void of anyone asking for help with classes, projects, or life in general. You check the time. 10:27 PM—still pretty early.
You open your contacts and press on Sukuna’s to call him.
It rings.
And rings.
And rings.
And, “Leave a message or whatever.” Then, in the background, you hear your own laugh and your own voice teasing, “Are you trying to make your voicemail sound cool?”
You drop the call and frown at your phone.
Weird, you think. He’s never ignored your calls before.
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notes. uh-oh 🫣
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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 16 hours
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girl, i wanna see you undo it
i wanna see you but you’re not mine.
how the other batboys react to a breakup
18+, mdni !!!!!!
readers can expect: a fem reader, lotttta angst, cursing, mentions of violence, sexually explicit scenes including mentions of penetration, oral, and masturbation. also tim drake being a creep via e-stalking but reader is aware of it and more or less okay with it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your ex boyfriend, bruce wayne, was avoiding alfred.
his butler was insisting on signing him up for therapy, and bruce was dodging him, hard. he didn’t have it in him. he wouldn’t go pay a professional to hear how pathetic he was over the lack of you in his life. couldn’t. he’s found a much more effective way to get out his emotions.
one that involves his fists and a goon’s face.
it was probably cruel, these poor goons were just trying to feed their families, or something, but batman was indifferent.
he was now always nearing dangerously close to breaking his no-kill rule. almost always teetering over that edge. even with his own life. he’d head out in the batsuit, prowling the seediest streets of gotham, hoping, practically praying, for someone to do something illegal. he would put himself in the most deadly situations just to feel alive. wasn’t the healthiest solution, but.
did he care? no.
bruce was numb, unfeeling to those around him. he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, not at the stupid fuck who’d lost the love of his life. he’d lagged behind in his case solving, gordon was growing increasingly more concerned. he was rude to the paparazzi asking after you, almost able to hear your voice in his ear, telling him to be nicer to them, whacking him on the bicep. he’d throw his usual charity galas, sure, but would send dick or jason in his place to showboat. he didn’t have the patience to talk to reporters. didn’t want to show face if you weren’t there on his arm. you always made the social aspect much more bearable. would always help him relieve the stress of it all after the event had ended.
but did he still care about you? yes.
just like when you were dating, bruce taking care of you was second nature.
he wouldn’t dare cancel the flower deliveries he’d set up when the two of you were together. they appeared at your apartment door every week and a half, always something different, but always in your favorite colors. you couldn’t stay mad at them either, the flowers brightened up your kitchen so nicely. when you and bruce were dating, he’d merged your calendars, just so scheduling was easier. you’d since deleted the connection, but he somehow still knows when you have appointments, as you’ll come out of your building’s lobby to a sleek black wayne enterprises car. the chauffeur opening the car door for you silently. you’d take it over the subway every time, even if it was a little awkward.
the dating app you’d downloaded after the breakup kept glitching, never letting you text any of your matches back. if you cared more, you’d contact support, but it was so odd. everything else on your phone works perfectly fine! but you had a gut feeling it had something to do with your ex boyfriend.
bruce might’ve slipped oracle a few bills for her silence over that favor.
he tried not to think about the fact you were already willing to start dating again. he couldn’t fathom being with anyone else. could not possibly wrap his head around it. why would he want anyone when he could have you? when he had already had you? everyone else seemed..lackluster.
it’s the same reason he’d been celibate since the breakup. after you, he was tainted. he didn’t think he’d ever be able to have sex again without thinking of you. especially in his own house. the two of you had fucked on every surface possible, seriously. tried every position.
it’d been difficult just sleeping in his own bed when he used to share it with you. used to make your legs shake as you gripped at the sheets. would never make you beg for anything, eating you out until you couldn’t take it anymore. that’s when bruce would press you up against him, holding you up with his huge arms as he pounded into you, his balls slapping against your clit as you whined, barely able to form words.
he’d never been with anyone the way he had with you. so obviously he wasn’t even able to finish with his own hand. it was nothing, nothing compared to the way you felt. his imagination would never have him moaning the way you could. could never make him melt the way you oh so easily were able to, with just a look.
so he was numb. and bruce just figured that’s how he’d stay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
your ex boyfriend, jason todd, throws his book across the room, flinching when it thuds against the wall opposite.
annoyed at the surprise romantic subplot, he huffs out a breath from behind his hands. he has to get over his sudden aversion to romance, but it feels impossible after losing you. he can’t watch any of his favorite movies, can only read a select few of his favorite books.
he barely even goes out anymore, mostly to avoid seeing couples on dates. the two of you loved going out together, loved going out to community events like concerts in the park, fairs in the summer. he missed accompanying you to your nephew’s t-ball games, watching you cheer and beam up at him in one of his old baseball hats.
so he barely goes out. he doesn’t have you with him!
he saw an elderly couple strolling in the park the other day. jason had promptly turned in the opposite direction, to avoid crumpling into a ball and sobbing or throwing up into the nearest trash can.
he’d gotten back onto his bike and rode home, going way over the speed limit. he didn’t care about being safe on it anymore, not when you weren’t there to ask him to or be his backpack. he missed the way you’d hold on to him, your thighs bracketing his torso as the bike roared. how at stoplights you’d rub your palms over his chest, grabbing his pecs with your gloved hands. your resulting giggle was muffled through your motorcycle helmet, but it was still the sweetest sound in the world to him.
but jason stopped bothering trying to function out in public after that, only ever really leaving his place for missions and to train at wayne manor.
and boy, had he been training. ever since the two of you had broken up, he’d been working out to the point of exhaustion.
barely peeling himself off of the floor after each workout, always heading straight to the shower to rinse the sweat off while he zoned out into the steam. after his workouts was the only time he would relieve himself. he’d hunch over with one hand propping him up opposite the tiled wall, the other fisted around his cock as he thought of your pretty smile, your gorgeous eyes, the meat of your thighs, the curve of your ass. how you’d clench around his cock with yet another orgasm, moaning his name into the mattress.
he’d finish, hard, his body shuddering, leaving him to be ashamed with himself.
he wasn’t allowed to do this, he wasn’t allowed to think of you like you were still his. all this and yet the pain in his muscles still didn’t ease the pain in his heart, the pain seeping into his bones whenever he thought about you.
jason was still hesitant to be around his siblings.
you had left your perfume in his bathroom, and while he knows it sounds crazy, he's been spraying it on his clothes. he misses the way they would smell like you after you’d borrow them. he still hadn’t touched one of his flannels, the one you loved to steal and loved to see him in. he didn’t see the point in wearing it if you weren’t there to see it.
the last time he’d seen damian, his little brother had loudly asked him why he “smelled girly.”
jason had turned bright red and mumbled something probably unintelligible before briskly walking away, bumping into the doorframe on his way out.
he’s been spraying your perfume on the pillow you’d always use too, snuggling it close to his chest like he used to with you while he fell asleep.
it’s definitely not the same, but it’s the closest jason has to the real thing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tim drake, your ex boyfriend, swiveled in his desk chair, spinning back and forth. the monitors covering the wall above his desk were alive with various video feeds and social media websites.
@user892548276 was viewing your instagram story, a gorgeous selfie of you that tim had already screenshotted. he had plans for that later. @gothamite69 was liking your latest tweet, while @ilovedoggiess couldn’t get enough of your latest tiktok.
he knew he had to switch up the users so you’d think it was bots. you’d figure it out otherwise. too bad he had a thing for smart people.
he nodded, satisfied at the cctv feed of the street your apartment building was on, before throwing a hoodie on over his bare chest. tim strolled into the kitchen, his sweats slung low on his hips. he ran a hand through his hair, using the other to grab the coffee pot to refill his mug.
“hey, tim. whatcha up to?” jason leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
tim jumped, turning around.
“just some surveillance, nothing much.” he replied, hoping he sounded nonchalant.
“ohh, that case for bats?”
“mmhm.” tim cracked his knuckles, something of a nervous habit he’d developed after the breakup. and his serious lack of sleep.
“well, i won’t keep you. tell y/n i said hi!”
tim flinched at the mention of you as jason left in the direction of the garage. it’s not his brother’s fault. jay had been really busy with the outlaws lately, never home long enough to realize tim hadn’t brought you over in weeks. tim scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. maybe it was the exhaustion muddling things, but tim can’t remember the last time he’d had a full night’s sleep. it was already difficult falling asleep. it only made it worse that every time he did fall asleep he dreamed about you.
but dick had noticed. he had slowly transitioned tim’s assignments to mainly desk work. his older brother was probably worried about him being too tired on the field and getting hurt. but he hadn’t told bruce. tim preferred it that way. he didn’t need a big fuss about if he was okay or his performance level as a hero.
tim grabbed his mug, making his way back to his bedroom. he caught a glimpse of a dark figure in the window, spooking himself. he was on edge so much worse than usual. his reflection stared back at him, his face skinny and his eyebags dark against the pale skin of his cheeks.
tim shook his head, heading into his bedroom. he swayed a little, locking the door behind him. he set his mug on his desk, sitting down in his chair just in time to see you heading down the street.
he stood up so fast his chair rocketed back, hitting the wall. you usually don’t go out on thursday nights. is everything okay??
he types frantically, finding different angles to effectively follow you down the street, physically recoiling to see you stop at a restaurant. just another date.
you stopped, looking around, waving when you spot a blond guy walking towards you. tim enhances the best he can, zooming in on this asshole who thinks he’s good enough for you. tim scoffs out loud at the wrinkled shirt your date has on, looking ridiculous in comparison to your beauty.
the sundress you’re in is one of his favorites, red and white and flowery. he gulps down a sip of coffee at his screen when you turn around, the fabric hugging your body. he blinks, snapping out of it as your date ushers you into the restaurant. tim cracks his knuckles. he reaches for his phone, pulling up your contact. he itches to call you, to pull you out of the date you’re on, to make you think about him instead of that tool you’re with.
but he can’t. he shouldn’t.
he pulls up the screenshot of your story instead, staring at the selfie of you in his favorite sundress. his cock twitches against the fabric of his sweats. he can’t even count how many times he’s had you rutting against him with that dress hiked up to your waist.
he tosses his phone onto his bed, sitting back in his desk chair as he palms his cock, his brain full of thoughts of you.
you pressed up against him in a slinky dress as you slow dance at a wayne gala. waking up in your bed how the two of you fell asleep, naked, limbs intertwined. dancing in a gotham nightclub together, your hair in your face as you throw your arms up and swivel your hips in his direction in your shortest dress. the texts and pictures you’d been sending back and forth after the breakup, unable to let each other go.
tim throws his head back as he finishes, your name on his lips. his body rigid, the warm liquid all over his hands. he cleans himself off, staring into nothing until his computer dings at the motion detected on your street. you’re strutting down the sidewalk, the street empty. before you head inside your building, you stare into the cctv camera across the street. you wave, smiling coyly. tim sits up straighter, holding his breath. you hold up your thumb, and tim groans. that guy??
but you flip your thumb down at the camera, shaking your head. bad date.
tim whoops, beaming.
he shuts down his computer before flopping onto his bed, burrowing under the covers. five minutes later, he’s fast asleep as his coffee grows cold where it sits on his desk.
153 notes · View notes
sonoyoung · 2 days
Text
— i think he knows
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boyfriend!jeonghan x gn!reader | fluff + early stages | 0.5k | i think he knows - taylor swift
a/n. im actually really glad i found pleasure in writing again i hope this is well received, i always appreciate feedback ty
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So this is love mhm. It was funny to you, actually loving someone romantically, you had read so many depictions of the feeling and yet nothing close to it.
It was all still so fresh you wondered if it was actually love but what else could it be. Whenever you met eyes, it felt like heaven, a whole choir singing in your heart sweet harmonies that kept you warm. It was all his fault, Yoon Jeonghan.
You weren’t one to focus on romance aside from indulging in the various medias illustrating the concept, but you got distracted by his boyish looks and the way he’d tease you just enough to get you riled up only to be the one to comfort you afterwards.
It was addictive, loving him made it seem so easy and you wanted so badly to believe every single drop of affection you felt from him was him displaying his own love to you.
“You’re like if a man and a woman had a baby or something” he smiled taking a deep breath in so he didn’t just laugh in your face at the absurdity of your sentence,
“Or something” he hissed through his teeth tilting his head taking it all in, slightly pursing his bottom lip as he thought about it, you rolled your eyes at him, “You know what I mean”
“Do I?” his tiny teeth shining between his lips as he grinned, enjoying every bit of your annoyance.
“Androgy… Androgenius…?” you thought out loud, his little snickering distracting you as you raked your brain for the right word.
“it’s Androgynous baby” he finally revealed placing a soft peck on your temple putting you out of your vocabulary misery, nuzzling your head into his neck just wanting to sink into his comfort.
Being so playful with him only added to the appeal of the romance, he had such an amusing personality that somehow meant you never had the chance to get bored. His prickly attitude was what drew you towards him, letting your curiosity take over your actions as you explored his mind more and more, slowly falling into him more and more.
It’s like that coming of age part of life when everything seems so confusing and no one has the answers you need because why is he the only constant thought in your mind. How could you explain that feeling of wanting to be close to someone so badly that being close isn't close enough, no one would understand, maybe you loved harder than the average person because this wasn't in the descriptions.
Even now just sitting by him in the car, radio noises masking the sound of the engine, the only sound between you, even in the silence it felt right and you wanted him more. Maybe it was the way his hair flowed with the summer breeze , the way he leaned back in his seat one hand on the wheel while the other wrapped between your thigh brushing soft circles on your skin.
He had you so easily under his fingertips and you didn't even mind it.
ty for reading, feedback is much appreciated!
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calliopesdiary · 19 hours
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hola!! would you be able to write a one shot with your first date with remus? maybe you’re both a little shy and nervous and just trying so hard to impress one another and there’s a lot of blushing and cute moments :)
hii! ofc, lovely! (screaming cause i got my first request 🥳🥳)
—•—
Check Yes, Juliet
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synopsis: when Marlene sets two polar opposites up to go on a date
contents: fem!reader, reader likes bows, badboy!remus, just cute adorable idiots in love (:, mentioned dorlene!, readers favorite color is red
warnings: none!
a/n: this fic is inspired by the song “Check Yes, Juliet” by We The Kings! thanks for requesting!
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“MARLS… ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?” you ask from your position in front of your mirror, carefully tying red ribbon into your hair.
“of course it is, y/n. he’ll love you! besides, opposites attract!” Marlene assured you, carefully applying red lipstick to her plush lips.
“i was a little… hesitant when Pandora insisted I go on a date with Dorcas, y’know, cause we were so different. but look at us— we’re about to hit our eight months!”
you nodded silently, checking yourself out in the mirror before finishing your eyeliner.
once Marlene had gotten picked up from your shared flat, you laced up your shoes and got your things together.
and that’s when you heard the knock.
the special knock.
the knock you had been waiting three days for.
your hand nervously gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.
“hi.”
“hi.”
you didn’t mean to say “hi” in unison, now what do you say? crap he was supposed to say hi first and then—
“you look gorgeous.”
you got broken out of your thoughts, your eyes hitting his with an awkward gaze.
“me?”
he chuckled, “who else would i be talking to?”
“o-oh, right, o-of course.” you blushed out of embarrassment.
you could cue some crickets here, you could tell he was nervous, you’ve never seen the resident bad boy so nervous.
“these are for you.”
he held out a bouquet of luscious roses, red, your favorite color.
“w-wow… Remus… these are beautiful…”
“just like you.” his cheeks lit up in a rosy shade, almost as if a painter had graced him with his paintbrush.
he’d definitely rehearsed that.
you let out a soft giggle, before stepping out the front door and walking with him to his car.
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you guys ended up going to this adorable vintage diner near his house, you felt like you could talk to him for hours, except you were so nervous.
he even paid for the food, he paid! (even though the guy should totally pay on first days but that’s just me 🤷‍♀️)
“don’t worry, darlin’, i’ll pay”
“Remus i was gonna pay—“
“shh, keep sipping on your slushy” you blushed, you needed to get this blushing problem under control.
“so, do you have any hobbies?”
sweet of him to ask, but you felt as if you were a bit basic.
“oh, i play electric guitar so.. i guess that’s my hobby, what about you?”
you smiled, god he already loved your smile, it was so sweet, especially since your tongue was red from the cherry slushy you had been sipping on.
“you play guitar? sick!— i mean— cool.. i play bass.”
“bass? i’ve always wanted to play bass!— i mean— that’s super cool, maybe we can play together sometime?” you were quick to get flustered by your own words.
damn, you were being bold.
“i’d like that.”
he tossed some stones into the river underneath the bridge you guys had found, your legs dangling gently off the edge as you sipped on your slushy.
“do you read at all?” you asked, reading being one of your most favorite things.
“i do— actually.”
“really?
“i know it seems unlikely, but yeah, i do.”
“well.. what are your favorites?”
“it’s hard to choose, but i’ve always liked the classics— you know, like.. Romeo and Juliet.”
“Remus, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you, the coolest guy in town, reads Romeo and Juliet.” he let out a chuckle.
“it’s true.” he shrugged, flashing his signature grin at you.
“do… you have a favorite?”
and just like that you both had spent quite a few hours just sitting on that bridge and talking, you never thought it could really get better than that.
“i know we already talked about hobbies, but have you got any more?”
“i mean— i skateboard, ”
“you skateboard?! damn, i’m really trying to make myself sound cool here but you aren’t helping.” you teased, nudging his shoulder.
“oh come on, it’s skateboarding, it’s not that cool…” Remus itched his neck sheepishly.
“i’m sure there has to be something cool about you.” he teased, his big hand ruffling your hair.
“i don’t know what that could possibly be.” you shrugged.
“well… you wear these beautiful bows everytime i see you walking down the street, and you told me that you like to stay up all night and play video games.” he remembered everything..
“that’s not cool, that’s being a loser.”
“you are about the farthest thing from a loser, y/n.”
you froze a bit, that was so… sweet.
“t-thanks.” you blushed, again. (no surprise)
“i’ll have to teach you how to skate, though.”
“i’d love that.”
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the drive back to your apartment was nothing short of a dream, music blasting, turns out you both had similar music taste.
“billy joel has to be a gift from the heavens.” you remarked loudly, your hair blowing in the breeze, the top down on his convertible.
“i can play uptown girl on guitar!” he responded, a wide smile on his face.
“really?”
“yeah!” the excitement in his voice made you blush almost the same color as your slushy.
“that’s so cool!”
he smiled wider, looking over to you, your pretty face lit up with street lights.
“i write poetry.” you confessed, you’ve definitely come out of your shell.
“you need to show me, sometime.” he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex.
“i… had a great time with you today.” you were so smiley.
“i had a great time with you, too.”
as the gentleman Remus John Lupin was, he walked you to your door.
“i guess this is goodbye.” he sighed lightly, not really wanting his night to end with you.
“thanks for.. everything—“
before you could even finish speaking, his lips were on yours.
your brain imploded, your eyes fluttering shut into the soft kiss Remus had just blessed you with.
your lips tasted of cherry and lip gloss, but he really didn’t mind. his nimble hands crept to your waist as your hands fell to his shoulders. just before he pulled away.
“i’ll see you around, Juliet.”
you smiled at the given nickname, blushing at the suddenness of that kiss still.
“bye, Romeo.”
he chuckled, before quickly walking down the hallway.
Marlene was right, opposites attract.
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Box Me Hard Tonight Boxer <3
Tags: Crazy sex; Nanami losing his mind; NSFW and more NSFW; Boxing terms not used the way boxing terms ought to be used cough; Nanami in a rut being hard and rough; is it even Nanami anymore? what have you done to him?; Fem!reader x Boxer!Nanami Kento; established relationship; marriage; MDNI; (18+)
A/n: I had the most delusional Nanami imagination. Normally I don't write him as I cannot write him properly. But today he summoned me to write on him. And thank you for 200+ followers! I am so happy and am kicking my feet right now! I have opened my asks feel free to check out the pinned post in my blog for more info on asks~
Synopsis: What happens when the promised surprise is you riling him up and breaking the control over himself he had so carefully crafted?
Word count: 1.8k
[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]
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Kento Nanami was a boxer turned UFC Champion-infamous worldwide for his tactics and combos, calm demeanor, polite nature but brutal and efficient fighting tactics.
Nanami focuses only on you as you rush towards him screaming in happiness, throw yourself over him and he holds you tight burying his head in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent god you smelled delicious
He had hustled towards you immediately once he was free from the press; had the seats specifically saved for you. You only deserve the best: the front row seats, the closest to his corner as the love of his life.
"Baby" he smiled at you softly compared to his ruthlessness in the ring as the reporters crowd around you and him trying to capture your pictures. He is a star, the sole focus- the champion the only "Kento Nanami"
His muscles flexed as the sweat dripped making his body glisten under the lights.
"Kento! we won! yay!", you kissed him excited unbothered by the people around wrapping your arms around his neck
"Yes, we did" he hums and melts under your kiss with a slight groan as he kisses you back, "So sweet- I can never get enough"- his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt not wanting to let you go.
As the mob gets more violent trying to click pictures, the bodyguards around you struggle to keep them away. Seeing the crowd he immediately scooped you in his arms, "Let's go home, love", he smiled softly as he carried you effortlessly
"Yes Darling let's go home~", you chuckle as his bodyguards in a matter of seconds have you two inside the car through the back door.
"You were so amazing Kento!", you look at him your eyes beaming with happiness, "It's all because of your love and support darling", he kissed you softly as the car started moving
"Kento~ haha!" you laugh as he kisses you and you kiss him back, "Love let's go for a vacation, where do you want to go hm?", he looks at you lovingly. Every time Kento had his match; after the match, you guys would go to for vacation to relax and unwind.
The car ride continues peacefully as you and Kento keep chatting, "Kento you know~ I have something special prepared for you today", you look at him playfully as his eyebrows arch intrigued
"What is love?", he chuckles as he looks at you amused, his hand finds its way to your thighs, caressing small circles into it as he hums softly. Squeezing your thighs.
"It's a surprise~ be patient Kento", you giggle as you rest your head on his shoulder and pat his crotch area making him hard, "Be good for me won't you?"
Let grunted and looked into your eyes hotly as if wanting to stuff you full with him right this instant, "Fine- I'll behave for you love…", his hot breath making you shiver as he whispered, "If only I get a reward later"
Soon you guys arrive home; Nanami gives you his hand to take as he helps you get out of the car and kisses your knuckles lovingly but- the moment the door opens and shuts behind the two of you, he's on you immediately- pinning you against his large frame on the wall.
His hand finds you on your cheek, tilting your face up as he kisses you deeply; your tongues intertwined. Wanting to taste you like a man who finally found an oasis in the desert; he kisses you even harder.
"I cannot be patient"- he looks at you in the eyes hungrily, his hands touching and squeezing your body as he fondles your breasts; wrapping your thighs around his waist- picking you up into his arms as he walks to your shared bedroom
"Ah-Nanamin" you moan as he kisses you hard biting your lips and nibbling on them, "Nanamin hah-" you look at him breathlessly, "Box me hard in the bed won't you?" you whisper as you wrap your hands around his neck making him freeze
"What?", his eyes darken, "Is that a proposal love?", his breath gets heavy as his lips hover above yours
"Do you like it?", you cheekily kiss him and smile teasingly making him lose his composure, "Love it to the ring baby", he whispers making you blush;
He pulls you into another kiss making you moan this one being rougher, hungry, and, full of carnal desire; "Ah- hah Kento ah", you moan against his lips as his hands slide under your shirt taking it off you, his teeth graze your neck before leaving bites leaving a hickey as you squirm
"Kento", you moan as he kisses you deeply once again and pulls away leaving a string of saliva, "Yes darling?" he chuckles as he removes his shirt gazing at your body, his toned muscles flexing themselves under the dim light- a confident smirk is on his lips- a completely different look than how he normally looks at you, what happened to him?
"I wonder", You look at him up and down as you touch his v-line making him groan, "Baby this is a dangerous game you are playing", he whispers with his cock twitching in his pants- oh how badly he wanted to touch him their and milk his cock with your pretty hands
"Hah~", you smirk as you look into his eyes, "Really? well, I wonder how hard my boxer can knock me out tonight~", you smirk with your words instantly sending goosebumps up his spine
"You are just asking to be punished aren't you?" he groans as his fingers dig deeper into your waist your words stirring something carnal inside him- he always likes to be gentle with you- loves you and treats you like the treasure you are, but your words are slowly eating away his control bit by bit
"Punish?", you smirk determined to break his composure to see what animalistic desires hide behind his calm demeanor. You have seen him when he boxes- that hint of insanity in his eyes makes you squeeze your legs together so tight- making you desire him so much it's embarrassing
"Why? will you box my pussy till it's stuffed and knocked out all sloppy?", you smirk and say as you spread your legs open making his breath hitch and his cock harden even more as he gazes at you and that damp spot on your panties- the spot so reserved for him and his dick
"Baby.." he leans in close so fast making you jump back, "Do you know what you are saying huh?" he whispers as he lowers his head and with his teeth rips your panties off throwing them off god knows where animalistically officially losing it; making you shudder as goosebumps spread all over your skin.
Oh shit- Oh shit you fucked up big time, you have never seen Nanami like this
But you aren't done yet hell you planned all kinds of vulgar things just to rile him up with a sharp breath you look at him and he notices as a devilish grin spreads across his lips
"Hah" you lean in and hotly whisper near his ears as his grip hardens on your hips bruising them and making you wince in pain, "Ya know… How about… You give me a fast jab with your dick-", you moan, "Then flip me over and do an uppercut as you fill me up-", his nails dig even deeper and he bites your shoulder bruising you like an animal in heat, "You slut you will be the death of me" he whispers and groans
"Then a side punch into my pussy from your dick as you fuck me from the side…and" your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes because of the pain but it felt so good, "Make me sit on top of you and do fast combos of uppercuts huh?"
Without any warning he stuffs his dick into your pussy roughly making you clench hard- your cunt desperately cries sloppily not used to harshness as she's always been treated like a princess not like a whore; working hard to adjust to his dick as he ruthlessly bullies his length inside you "Fuck" he groaned, "You are driving me crazy"
"Ah-hah-" you moan desperately, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts deep inside of you- hard, fast, and deep wanting to feel every inch of you around him, "Shit Kento! ahhh-", tears spill out of your eyes as you moan; your body aches with every insane thrust
"Hah-", he pants "You're absolutely mine, split so prettily on my dick my darling wife" he hungrily kisses you as his dick keeps moving, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head
There was not a hint of rationality behind his eyes as he was in a rut and just kept fucking you, even after you orgasm he kept going, fucking you through so many orgasms you'd lost count god he was treating you like a prostitute
Your eyes roll back at the sheer intensity wondering how you are even alive right now, "Kento- ah…hah~" you moan as your voice cracks, "Fuck- so perfect, so dirty and wet all for me hah", his hand bruised your skin where ever they touched
Your brain is so cock drunk you drool as he keeps going. He flips you over burying your face in the pillow roughly, his grip hard on your head and neck choking you all out as your vision goes white, "Kento- ah…I love you so much…I love your dick so much ah", you blurt out and choke even more as his grip on your neck makes you faint as you clench around him desperately not wanting to let go
"Oh yeah? Do you love my dick? Then take it like a good bitch! Don't dare let a single drop go to waste", his pace increases even more, making you go numb from sheer pleasure as your hands mindlessly scramble to grip the sheets to hold on for dear life as moans spill out from your mouth like a porn actress
"So fucking good!" he grunts and tosses his head back pussy drunk, you felt so good around him he can fuck you for days and nights just like that.
"ah- hah Kento-" you moan crazily as he and you reach the peak of your animalistic rut and desire, "Naughty girl.." he moans as he shudders with his climax approaching and he cums inside you hard painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim inside your womb, "You'll break my dick" he groaned as he panted heavily
"Hah…Kento…'tis so full ah…" you feel your brain short circuit as you knock yourself out dumb oozing out cum
Looking at you so fucked up, so messy, aroused him even more, his eyes darkens again with insanity behind them, "Don't knock yourself out now…you asked for this..I'm not gonna stop until you're a quaking mess" he whispers hotly near your ears nibbling on it as he sees his cum drip out of you; making his dick still hard enough to keep you up all night.
A full hand-on session of 'Technical Knockout' live; all by Nanami Kento for the love of his life
Link to masterlist!
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emphistic · 2 days
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Écoute Chérie
A/N: grr
<- Series m.list
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When a certain someone — specifically a blond male, showed up to Sukuna’s door that next morning holding a wad of cash in his hand, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to sock him in the jaw. But he contained himself, saying, “Keep that shit for yourself. I don’t want it.”
“Oh? You backing out now, Captain?”
“. . .You’re one sick fuck, Zen’in.” He snatched the money out of the younger’s hands, before slamming his door shut.
Pride is a terrible, terrible thing, and Ryomen Sukuna was full of it.
“Oh, my God, girl! I feel like we moved on a little too quickly. Pause: He—you—you guys KISSED? Stop, don’t—don’t play with me right now. I can’t even get a guy to let me cheat off of him on a final, but you kissed someone on the FIRST date. Let me say that again, FIRST date?! As in the first EVER date you two have been on together.”
If you were counting — which you weren’t, this would have been the seventy-ninth time you giggled out loud this evening. You and Nobara were sitting — no, standing, actually, with you leaning forward with your elbows on the counter, and the brunette doing likewise. You decided — well, you were forced — to fill her in on all that happened the day before. You had just gotten off of your shift, and, obviously, were still in your uniform, but Nobara insisted you tell her anyway. She wouldn’t and “couldn’t” wait until you got back to your apartment.
“Yes, Nobs, for the hundredth time. We kissed and even added a little bit of tongue and then he walked me back to my apartment and we fucked all night.”
The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her jaw dropped to the floor and even broke through the tiles and went further beneath the surface. Just kidding; because that’s not possible, but her expression was even more funny after you said, “I’m just messing with you, girl. I have some self-worth left, believe it or not, and I wouldn’t sleep with someone after the first date.”
“Funny how you decided to deny only that part.”
“. . .”
“Don’t—don’t tell me the rest was true. Oh, my God! STOP! I was only kidding; but you—you actually added tongue? What the fuck? And, you just decided to not call me right after? Wow.” Nobara crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air for only a few seconds before she went back to gripping your shoulders and shaking your body. “You are such a freak, my God.”
“He also walked me to my door, y’know. No need to focus on only those parts.” You tried to bring her focus onto that, because you found that part the most adorable.
Truth was, the only reason you didn’t immediately call Nobara that night was because you spent the last few hours of that night screaming into your pillow like a schoolgirl and reminiscing on all that happened.
“You know,” you started, turning to face the man behind you, “you didn’t have to walk me all the way to my door, right? I could’ve just gone by myself.” 
You had insisted and insisted to Sukuna that you would be fine, and that the other residents of the building were friendly and cordial, but Sukuna ignored every one of your pleas and walked right next to you anyway. From the parking lot, to the elevators, and down the hallway, Sukuna never left your side, and actually, was surprisingly nice company. You two talked on the way about how good or bad the food at the game was, how hot and humid it was, how annoying the older gentleman beside your seats was, you two talked plenty enough.
“I know. I wanted to.” Sukuna stopped to lean against the wall beside your apartment, crossing his arms as you pulled out your keys.
“Hey, so, I had a lot of fun today. I guess baseball isn’t as boring as I thought it was,” you laughed, scratching the back of your neck. “Thanks for inviting me.” You had tried to tell him on the car ride to your place, but you chickened out.
Sukuna snorted, “No problem; my pleasure, actually. And, I had a lot of fun, too. I think I enjoyed today more than I would if Yuuji was there instead of you. So thank you for coming.”
“Oh, please. Don’t lie; he’s literally your brother. Besides, Yuuji’s not even here to defend himself. Kinda rude, if I say so myself.”
“I’m not lying, though, really. I enjoyed today. I can’t even remember the last time I was able to leave the house for anything fun and actually, sincerely, enjoy it.” Sukuna moved his head as he spoke, as if in a way to accentuate his point. You found that completely and utterly adorable. Just the thought of you being part of making his day alone made you blush, and you looked away sheepishly.
“I’m glad you had a nice time, Sukuna. And thank you, again, for today.” You caught Sukuna by surprise — beyond surprise, actually — when you cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his cheek for a chaste kiss. Mwah! The sound was audible through the night. And it was the sound which replayed over and over in Sukuna’s mind as he lay completely awake for hours past midnight in bed. The only thing he dreamt of — when he eventually fell asleep, that is — was you. You.
Now that he thought of it, there were no words to describe you. No words to describe your beauty, though, ethereal did come close. No words to describe the smile which you gave him when you two passed each other on campus. No words to describe how friendly and comforting the melody of your voice sounded to him; if you were a siren, and he, a pirate, Sukuna would dive headfirst into the water. No words to describe how drunk, how dizzy, how pathetic you made Sukuna, even with mere eye contact. But, there was a word to describe Sukuna.
It’s quite simple, actually.
Sukuna was whipped. Absolutely enamored of you. But. . . Very unfortunate he only noticed now. And, it was such, such a shame that he was also full of pride.
“Okay, that’s so romantic, though! I can’t believe it. My friend is gonna get with the love of her life, and I don’t even know how to turn the stove on. Oh, my God. My friend’s getting with the love of her life. OH, MY GOD!” That was not even close to the last time you would hear Nobara say “Oh, my God” that night.
-
“You wouldn’t happen to . . . y’know . . . have plans . . . this weekend?”
You didn’t know why Sukuna kept on pausing, but you knew it was oddly suspicious.
“And if I did?”
“Then, I wouldn’t ask you to . . . help me . . . with some . . . math.”
“Sukuna, are you okay? You sound like you’re being held at gunpoint.” You crossed your arms, failing to stifle a giggle. You really couldn’t fathom why he was acting so strange. Sukuna couldn’t, either. 
Ever since the day you both went to that baseball game together, Sukuna’s been different, to say the least. And yeah, maybe after kissing someone for the first time changes your behavior towards them, but still, it was strange. 
He wasn’t as cocky when going over his daily feats at basketball practice; he wasn’t as blunt and insulting to freshmans whom you two came across while on campus; he wasn’t as teasing or sharp with his remarks as he usually was; he wasn’t as assertive and casual whilst slinging an arm ‘round your shoulder. He wasn’t him. Then again, Sukuna also didn’t know why he was acting this way.
“I’m . . . fine. I’m fine.”
“Okay. . . Anyways, I am free. So yeah, I can. My place or yours?”
“Ah, you don’t have a lot of good alcohol,” Sukuna tapped his index finger repeatedly on his chin, as if contemplating which location to use was very difficult for someone like him. “I get bored with just water. So, it’ll have to be mine. ‘Sides, I don’t think Gigi likes me that much anyway.”
You laughed. Sukuna wasn’t very keen on having you tutor him while your apparently “murderous” cat was present. Giselle, also known by her nickname ‘Gigi’, was a black-furred breed, with very sharp, untrimmed nails, which proved useful whenever Sukuna came over to hang out with you or do some other shit. Maybe it was because of how provocative Sukuna and his usual cold demeanor were. Maybe it was because of how close Sukuna got to Gigi’s owner whenever you sat down on the couch together. Maybe it was because of the fact Sukuna took your attention off of your so precious cat whenever he stepped foot into the apartment. Maybe it was because Sukuna was just Sukuna. And Gigi didn’t like that one bit.
“Alright, since you’re afraid of a mere feline, which — mind you, is less than a quarter of both your height and size.”
“Well, that feline comes from the depths of Hell. So yeah, excuse me if I prefer to stay sixty miles away from it.”
“Gigi comes from Hell, now? Pfft—she’s probably just excited to see her previous neighbor, then,” you snorted.
Sukuna gave you a side glance, hiding his growing grin. He was not about to openly admit you were even slightly funny. No, he would never give you that kind of satisfaction.
“Okay, so can you tell me what the variable ‘d’ is?” You had explained the formulas as best as you could, even taking it a step further and dumbing it down immensely. Then you left the living room to put away the dishes, leaving the pink-haired male to attempt his assignment on his own. — With some guidance here and there.
Sukuna and you had ordered Chinese, deciding to study while eating. And while your plan for energizing proved to be frustrating at first — since a certain someone didn’t know how to eat with his mouth closed, you had become used to it by the end. Your tactic? Drowning out the audible chewing noises. Eugh.
“Why don’t you come over here, and I’ll show you.” Sukuna leaned his head on the cushions, wrapping an arm around the back of the sofa.
You scrunched up your face in reply, pausing in the middle of scrubbing food and gunk and whatever off of the porcelain plates. “Pass.
“I told you already, Sukuna. The exponential functions are the ones that slowly curve up; think of it as this: good things happen to a bad thing. Get it? Like, their lives are getting better. And, since I know you’ve already forgotten, a ‘y’ value can have as many ‘x’ values, but the ‘x’ value is . . . unambiguous, so it only has one ‘y’ value. Now, does that help?” 
“Ugh, this is such a bore. How can anyone pay attention to these types of things long enough in class to be good at it? Fuck.”
You took his consequent silence as him giving up on life and continuing to work on solving the problem in his evident misery, but oh, how wrong you were.
“S’kuna, what are you doing?” you sucked in a breath. He was so close. So close, to you. You thought it had only been two seconds, but in those two seconds, it only took Ryomen Sukuna four easy strides to end up here. — With his chest pressed almost right up against your back. Key word: almost. Yes, Ryomen Sukuna was so close, but still, so far.
“Helping you.” God, did he have to be that ambiguous all the time? He was like a walking enigma, a puzzle, a riddle, for you to solve. A mystery for which you would soon lose sleep over.
Sukuna easily grabbed several dried plates, removing them from the rack, and storing them in the cabinet above your head. His hand left lingering touches on your arm as they passed by each other. You slowly, gradually, accumulated a mountain of goosebumps.
It was infuriating.
He was so close, but not close enough.
Every time he moved to grab another plate, he would rest his hand upon your hip or on the curve of your waist. Sometimes he ran his large-scaled hands up your middle; sometimes he moved them lower, and lower. Was he trying to give you heart palpitations?
“Y’know,” he started, his voice dripping with honey, “you can keep breathing, right? What, do I smell that bad?” he snickered.
“I—what—why—what the hell are you doing?” You wanted to argue that he had no sense of personal space, which, yes, was true, but you feared he would stop whatever he was doing at the moment. And, you didn’t want that.
“I’m . . . helping . . . you.” He bent down to your level, lips brushing your ear as he spoke, and his hot breath fanning your ear. 
There it was again. That ‘pausing thing’ of his. But, this time, it was different. Earlier he was pausing as if he was unsure, but now, he was pausing just to create suspense and further rile you up. He clearly knew what he was doing; he knew what he was doing to you. Poor ol’ you, who just innocently wanted to wash some dishes.
You had previously wanted to turn around and properly face him in order to confront him better, but now, you didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not like you could, anyway, you were stuck between the counter and him. Your eyelashes fluttered, as your eyes darted here and there. And your palms began to sweat, you quickly wiped them on the material of your sweater, but your continued attempts were futile.
“No—no, you’re not.” You struggled to stifle your heavy breathing, and it took you quite a time to form a sentence without giving away the tight feeling in your chest.
“Yeah? Then, how could I help you, hm? Tell me,” he spoke your name firmly, like he was anticipating your breaking, and egging you on nevertheless. Then again, how could he not be? It had been days, days, since you two went to that game. Days since he felt like he was in heaven and talking to an angel. Days since he felt your lips on his. Days since he felt well. Days. And for days, he’s been restless, hungry, thirsty, empty. Hell, forget about your predicament, he was the one close to breaking.
“Tell me,” he said your name, again. “Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”
“. . .You can help by telling me what the fuck we’re doing right now.”
“Don’t you already know? And here, I thought it was obvious.” Sukuna bit his lip, but that didn’t help any bit in suppressing his laugh.
“What . . . are we . . . doing?” You repeated.
Sukuna was silent, for a moment, “You’re tutoring me, on math.”
“I already know that, dumbass. I mean, what are we doing?”
“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that.”
“Oh, my God—what are we doing? What are we? For fuck’s sake. How thick is your skull really, damn.” You finally mustered the courage to twist your body around, and though you were only met with his chest, you sighed and looked upward to meet his face.
“That’s a little harsh.”
You glowered at Sukuna.
“Okay, okay. I’ll talk,” he cleared his throat. “We’re . . . just us. I don’t know what to tell you. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. That’s all there is to it, right?”
For a second, you thought he was referencing what you had previously said to Nobara, but then the rational side of your brain kicked in and said, “No, there’s no way he could’ve overhead that,” and so, the surprised expression disappeared from your face as you looked down at the floor of the kitchen.
“We’re friends, yeah, that’s all there is to it. . . But friends don’t do . . . this. So we clearly, definitely, shouldn’t be doing this.”
“So, we can pretend we’re not doing this, right? There, fixed the problem.”
“And if I don’t want to pretend we’re not doing this?”
“Then don’t; we don’t have to pretend.”
“But—”
“Please,” he looked at you with such an earnest expression on his features, “don’t say that word. Not again. You’ve no idea, no idea, how much it drives me crazy when you say that word. Mad, insane, deranged. Anything but that, please, anything. We’re clearly not friends. We’re clearly not just friends. So please, don’t call whatever we have as that. I’m sick of it.”
“If we’re not friends, then, what are we?” Your voice was just above a whisper, and you couldn’t even recall when it turned out that way. 
“. . .We’re whatever you want us to be. . . What do you want us to be?”
“No, you decide, Sukuna. What do you want us to be?” You gingerly laid a palm on top of his chest.
“I decide?”
You nodded, “Whatever you want to be . . . will be.”
“I want us to be . . . us. Together. Just us. No one else; just you and me.”
“Okay. I’d like that.”
He took your hand from his chest and held it in his, as if in a way to seal his promise. “I’m glad.”
Having had a couple beers — in favor of Sukuna giving up on attempting any more math, you were a little drunk. Just a little. 
“You have a stupid, stupid face, but it’s still my favorite. It’s my favorite to stare out. It’s my favorite to kiss. It’s my favorite to rub — your skin is so soft. It’s my favorite. My favorite.” 
He let you pepper as many pecks as you wanted onto his cheek, but when you tried to give Sukuna a proper kiss on the lips, he quickly moved his face to the side so you unintentionally planted your lips on his cheek instead. 
For, he didn’t want you to freak out in the morning and think he was the type of guy to take advantage of someone while they were even a little bit tipsy.
Besides, he had just gotten you. He couldn’t lose you now, could he.
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A/N: i love portraying raw emotion
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corruptedcaps · 7 hours
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Tastes
It had started innocently enough. Claire had found the latex skirt at a thrift store and had taken a shine to it. The normally conservatively dressed girl was taken aback by her own interest in the skirt. It was shorter than what she was usually comfortably with, the material was something she detested and the colour matched none of her existing clothes, in essence it was the furtherest thing from her own tastes but for some reason she walked out of the store with it newly purchased.
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“Wow I don’t know why I wanted this so badly but I’m glad I did it looks great!”. She said happily later at home. She spun around in front of the mirror smiling to herself.
“This will be perfect for my date later.” She said to herself taking in her figure from every angle.
However something was feeling off. Something not quite right like she was missing something. It clicked.
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“My hair is all wrong and I need a facial.” She said snapping her fingers in her moment of realization.
She was never one to care that much about her appearance but a half hour later she was in the salon being convinced to go for a drastic hair change.
“Are you sure? That’s a big difference from what I have now.” She asked the hairdresser who suggested it.
“Absolutely it is but right now your hair says ‘nice to meet you’ but what you really want it to say is ‘it’s nice to meet me.” Replied the hairdresser.
Claire liked the sound of that. Really liked the sound of that as she started to feel a warmth below her waste that was unusual for her.
“Do it.” Claire said in a low register that was laced with sudden confidence and the hairdresser got to work.
As the hairdresser got to work Claire closed her eyes and let her mind drift. She imagined the look on the face of her date when she would show up later looking like a new woman.
“He probably won’t even recognize me, he’ll think I’m there to steal him away. Mmmm that’s kind of hawt.” She thought as the hairdressers’ fingers massaged her scalp sending her further into her fantasy.
“Claire? Sounds like some unfuckable loser. I’m Chantelle, my tastes are as rich as my name sounds.” She imagined saying to her date.
As her fantasy continued she felt a pleasurable tingle coarse through her body, unaware that her simple latex skirt was growing up her body, absorbing her top underneath the salon cape draped over her.
“You seem like a man of refined taste, but can you keep up with mine?” She said in her fantasy while her lips curled up into a seductive smile.
“How about we go back to your place and I’ll show you how delectable my taste can be.” She giggled in her mind playfully.
“All done!” The hairdresser suddenly said, breaking Claire from her fantasy. As the hairdresser moved away, Claire finally got a look at herself in the mirror and her instance reaction was one of shock.
“Who is that?” She wondered as she gazed at the beauty in front of her. Her hair was big and eye catching, her face was smooth and painted with bitchy perfection. Even her eyes seemed to sparkle. So captivated she hadn’t even noticed her outfit had changed.
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The longer she stared at herself the longer she felt a coldness wrap around her heart. Altruistic feelings were being sapped from her as more narcissistic thoughts slipped in in their place. Her face rested into a bitchy pout.
Rising from the chair like a regal queen she clip clopped over to the register in high heels not realizing that she had walked in with sneakers on.
“You look wonderful miss.” The hairdresser praised as she rung her up. Claire basked in the attention. She did look wonderful.
As she walked back through the mall towards her car she felt the eyes of every man on her, drinking her in. The longer they looked the more her mind became wicked and vain.
“Of course they can’t stop looking, it’s not everyday they see a goddess.” She thought to herself as she took her time getting to the parking garage, she needed everyone to see her. She craved it.
Again so occupied by her thoughts that she didn’t feel her outfit change on her body, becoming shorter, tighter. Her heels became taller as her breasts pushed her dress to its breaking point.
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The outfit had reached its final form and in turn had totally corrupted Claire. As she stepped into the parking garage and eyed her beat up car she nearly gagged. This wouldn’t do for a woman of her status.
Thankfully a she spotted a handsome man hitting the alarm off button on his expensive convertible. He would do, Claire thought to herself as she stalked over to him.
“Excuse me, but would you do me a kindness and drop a girl like me home?” She said rocking up to him.
“I’m sorry but-” he said turning around and going mute at the sight of her. She gave him a fake smile as she put her hand on his shoulder.
“I would be so grateful if you could.” She said batting her long eyelashes at him. Looking down at his hand she noticed a wedding ring. Even better she thought wickedly to herself.
“For sure, no problem. Please get in Miss…?” He replied transfixed by her.
“Chantelle.” She simply said as she walked around to the passenger side.
“Chantelle? That’s a gorgeous name.” He said as they both got in the car. She sat seductively across from him.
“Suits me then don’t you think?” She said flirtily making him gulp.
“So eh, where can I drop you?” He said starting the engine.
“Oh your house will do.” She said putting her hand on his thigh. He gulped again as he pressed the button on his car to close the roof, he had a feeling he was going to need the privacy.
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 23 hours
Note
omgg i loveee your patrick zweig x reader fics, could please write a bit more about patrick zweig x pregnant reader or patrick with his newborn baby (i have a soft spot for that lol)
So when Y/N first found out she was pregnant she was scared and nervous. Patrick was still a pro tennis player and they barely talked about kids. So when Y/N saw that the pregnancy test was positive she didn’t know how to react. Patrick was practicing so it would be awhile before he got back. A few hours later he returned to find Y/N sitting at the kitchen table with something in her hand. “Hey baby.” He greeted. She gave him a soft smile, “Hey.” Her body was tense and she had every emotion. “Can you come sit?” She asked him. He looked confused but sat across from her as she stared at whatever was in her hand. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She sighed and sat the pregnancy test on the table for him to see. She slid it over to him. He picked it up and gasped. “You’re Pregnant?” He asked and she nodded. He stood up and ran over to her and picked her up. “This is amazing!” He said and twirled her around. She laughed and he set her down. They were almost face to face but the height difference made that impossible. “You’re having my baby!” He said with a smile. “I know it’s amazing.” She said, happy that he reacted that way.
Patrick was pretty overprotective over her as the days went on. He didn’t want Y/N to lift a finger. So anytime he was there she wouldn’t. Even if she had to shower he’d offer to help. “Patrick you just wanna see me naked.” “Well duh but I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He said. When the raging hormones hit he took it all. From Y/N yelling at him to crying and obviously to wanted to jump his bones. That was his favorite obviously. He loved having sex and the fact Y/N wanted it more than him? That was awesome. “This is the most we’ve had sex.” He breathed out as he collapsed next to her. “Are you complaining?” She asked, he shook his head. “Hell no.” Even the crazy cravings that she got. “I’m sorry you want Pickles and popcorn but together? So the pickle juice with popcorn?” She nodded. He looked at her weird but got it for her anyways. He loved her so much and the little baby growing inside of her.
When the time came Patrick freaked out as Y/N yelled in pain. He called Art to figure it out and help since he had a kid of his own. “Take her to the hospital you dumbass!” He yelled at the man. So he grabbed what was needed and took Y/N to the hospital. The car ride was awful. She kept screaming at him to drive faster. “Babe I’m going as fast as I can.” When the arrived Y/N was took to a room immediately and Patrick watched as his wife screamed as the contractions hit. He took a hold of her hand as she got ready to push. “You got this baby!” He said as she pushed. “You did this to me you asshole! You put this baby in me! We are never having sex again!” She yelled at him. He hoped that wasn’t true. Once the baby was out the crying could be heard. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said. They looked at each other and smiled. “A little tennis star.” Patrick said. The doctor handed the baby to Y/N and she awed. She was so tiny in her arms and looked so cute. Patrick stared at the scene in front of him never wanting to forget it. “Do you want to hold her?” Y/N asked him. He nodded as the tears started forming. He took the baby out of his wife’s arms and cooed at the little baby. “You look just like your mom.” He said and Y/N scoffed. “Patrick she doesn’t look like either of us yet. Well maybe your big nose.” “Hey you like my big nose especially when you sit on it.” He said and Y/N hit him. “No talk like that in front of the baby. “ She growled. He apologized but smirked at her. “Babe we have a little us in my arms.” He said and she smiled. “Yeah we do.”
Patrick wouldn’t shut up about his newborn. Art was happy that Patrick had a baby now but the man really couldn’t stop talking about her. “Art she’s so cute and has my nose!” “I know you’ve told me 8 times already!” Safe to say that Patrick loves her a lot.
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sequinsmile-x · 2 days
Text
Compress
The date had gone well. Or, at least, she thought it had.
AKA - the one where Emily avoids talking to Aaron as a result of a miscommunication and she manages it...right up until an unsub locks them in a freezer.
-x-
Hi friends,
This is very loosely based on an episode of Castle and is an idea that I've been playing around with for a little while.
I really hope you enjoy this - please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Warnings: Canon typical violence/peril
Words: 3.6k
Read over on A03, or below the cut
She was furious at him.
Emily knew it mostly stemmed from embarrassment, churning in her gut whenever she looked at him, convinced that she had somehow read every interaction between them in the last few weeks incorrectly. That her skills as a profiler had failed her, and there was nothing more between them than friendship. Then she’d remind herself that he was the one who asked her on a date. He’d been the one who nervously spat out the invitation as he stumbled over his words in a way that she’d found endlessly endearing, the love she felt for him threatening to bubble to the surface as she pressed her lips together to hold it back, simply nodding her confirmation instead. 
The date had gone well. Or, at least, she thought it had. There hadn’t been any awkwardness like she’d worried there would be. No moments where the transition from friends to something more felt forced. It had felt like any other night they’d spent together, both of them smiling and laughing as they exchanged facts about their pasts - slowly pulling back the protective layers they’d both wrapped around themselves a long time ago. 
It had gone well, right up until he dropped her back at her place. He’d walked her to her door, his hand hovering over the small of her pack, the heat of his palm making her shiver even without actually touching her. She’d invited him in, looking up at him through her lashes, and she watched as he froze, his eyes going wide before he choked out an excuse about getting home for Jack and leaving with nothing more than dropping a kiss on her cheek. 
She got the call from Penelope about a case only hours later as she sat on her bed, the underwear she’d bought and worn for him already shoved deep in her hamper so she didn’t have to look at it and a pint of ice cream in hand. Aaron had smiled tightly at her when she got on the jet, and she stopped any attempt he made at talking to her, humiliation lingering under her skin every time he tried. 
She was angry at him, but she was mostly angry at herself. Furious that she’d let herself get carried away with the fantasy of it, with the idea of finally being with the person she’d loved a lot longer than she cared to admit even to herself. Embarrassed that for a moment she’d let herself believe he felt the same way about her. 
Life had after all rarely been that kind to her. 
She’d get over it. She knew that. She just needed some time to recalibrate, to be able to look at him again and not feel her cheeks burn with fury and grief for something she never had in the first place. 
Aaron seemed opposed to giving her that time. 
After she’d rebuffed all of his attempts to talk to her he’d partnered them together on the case, insisting that she came with him to speak to a suspect that ran the local diner. She wanted to fight him on it, insist that she stayed behind and he took someone else, but she knew any kind of insubordination would only draw attention to her sour mood. No one on the team knew they’d been on a date, and she hadn’t wanted them to know yet even when she thought it was going to go well. She definitely didn’t want them to know now.
She’d simply nodded and climbed into the SUV instead, her gaze purposely fixed out of the passenger window as they drove in silence. It’s only as the car pulls to a stop that he even attempts to speak to her.
“Prentiss.” 
She sighs and looks at him, her brows furrowing when she sees what he’s spotted, the ‘closed’ sign hung in the entrance of the diner, “Weird time of day for the diner to be closed.” 
“Weird for a 24-hour diner to be closed at all,” he says, unclipping his seat belt, “We need to be careful.” 
She bites back a sarcastic comment as she climbs out of the car, her hand on her hip as she reaches for her gun. She looks down the alley next to the diner and nods towards it, “The back door is propped open.” 
They walk towards it, moving in tandem until they reach the door. He opens it and walks in first, his gun raised as he enters the diner's kitchen. 
“Mr Ramsey?” He says, throwing a look back at Emily as she enters behind him, her gun also raised, “It’s the FBI we just need to ask you a few questions.”
Emily scopes out the kitchen, its quietness almost eerie, and something catches her eye. She walks closer to the nearby counter and curses under her breath when she sees newspaper clippings about the murders they were investigating, the faces of the victims scribbled out - black ink blocking out their faces. She’s about to call out for Aaron, to show him what she’d discovered, when she hears the click of a gun’s safety going off just behind her. 
“Put your gun down.”
She does as she’s asked, raising her hands after placing her gun on the counter, “Mr Ramsey-”
“Be quiet,” he says, pressing the barrel of the gun into the back of her head, “Call for your partner.” 
She clenches her teeth, “I’m not-”
“Call for him now or I’ll kill you and then I’ll kill him.”
She closes her eyes, holding back the breath she knows will be shaky, not wanting to give him any more of an upper hand than he already had, well aware from experience that any sign of fear would be like signing her death warrant. 
“Hotch,” she shouts, her jaw tight as she hears his footsteps in the next room, “Come here.” 
The look that passes over his face when he steps back into the kitchen and sees her standing there with a man behind her, a gun pressed against her head, breaks her heart. It’s quick. Undetectable to anyone who doesn’t know him as well as she does. He grips his gun even tighter, aiming it past her, but anything he is going to say is cut off as Ramsey starts to talk. 
“Put your gun down.” 
Aaron shakes his head, “We both know I can’t do that.”
She feels the gun get pressed even firmer against the back of her head, leaving a mark she’s sure will bruise, and she can feel the tension radiating off the man behind her. 
“Put your gun down, or I’ll blow her head off.” 
Her eyes meet Aaron’s and she knows what he’s going to do before he does it, the very real prospect of her dying in front of him pushing any fight out of him as he nods and puts his gun down, “I’ve put it down. Let her go.” 
Ramsey shakes his head, and he chuckles darkly, “So you can arrest me? I don’t think so,” he says, looking around, a sense of wildness about him that tells Emily he hadn’t thought this far. He looks at the industrial sized freezer in the corner and grabs her, moving so quickly it pulls a grunt out of her. 
“Get your hands off of her,” Aaron growls, his hands in tight fists by his side, his eyes fixed on the gun still pointing at her head.
Ramsey pulls the door to the freezer open and then pushes Emily into it, his gun once again trained on her as he turns to look at Aaron, “Get in.”
Emily watches as Aaron does as he’s told, taking his place next to her, “This isn’t going to end well for you Ramsey,” Aaron says, his glare stern as he looks at the other man, “People know where we are. They know who we came to see.” 
Ramsey nods and chuckles darkly, his hand on the door as he shrugs, “Maybe. But by then I’ll be long gone. And you two…well, I guess it depends on how long they take to find you.” 
He slams the door shut, plunging them into darkness. ___
A small LED light in the far corner of the freezer switches on, and it’s just enough light for him to see Emily, her eyes wide as she looks around them, her arms crossed over her chest as she shivers. 
“Do you have your phone?” She asks him, “I left mine in the car.” 
He nods and digs through his pocket, cursing when he sees he doesn’t have any service, “It’s not working.” 
“Damn it,” she replies, blowing out a breath he can see, the ghost of it spreading out between them, “Well, the team knew we were coming here,” she says, her smile tight, “Hopefully they’ll figure out when we’ve been gone too long for a standard interview,” she grimaces slightly, “Do you think he kept the bodies in here?” She asks, turning up her nose, “Right alongside the food?”
He can’t help but smile at the look on her face, the rare show of utter disgust that somehow didn’t diminish her beauty, “I guess you can add diners to your list.” 
She frowns as she looks at him, her eyebrows furrowed together, “What list?”
His smile slips slightly, the awkwardness that had settled between them since their date a few days ago returning, her reluctance to talk to him unless it was about the case coming back in full force, “The list of things this job has ruined for you. Like roadside motels?”
“Oh,” she says, forcing a smile as she nods, “Yeah. Diners are on the list now too I guess.” 
They fall into silence and he watches as she paces back and forth, her hands rubbing up and down her arms as she tries to get warmth into them. He could feel the cold too, the way it makes a shiver pass through his spine, but he knew he ran warm. His body a furnace that Jack took comfort in when he had nightmares. Haley had always lovingly complained about it, especially in the summer. A wry smile on her face as she told him the room was warm enough without him in it. 
“Are you cold?” 
She glares at him, “We’re standing in a freezer Aaron,” she exclaims, wrapping her arms even further around herself, “Of course I’m fucking cold,” she spits out. He moves towards her as if by instinct, his body moving of its own accord as he tries to pull her into his arms. She pulls away from him so quickly she almost slips, a look he can only call furious passing over her face, “What are you doing?” 
He frowns at her, “Trying to warm you up.” 
She scoffs, her jaw tight as her eyes meet his, “I can manage perfectly fine, thanks,” she says, her voice dropping as she carries on, words he’s sure she doesn’t mean to escape filling the air between them, “You didn’t want to touch me the other night so I won’t put you through it now.” 
His hands fall to his sides and he huffs out a breath, shaking his head as her words register, “What do you mean?” 
She presses her lips together and shakes her head, turning her back on him as she replies, “Nothing. It’s not important.” 
“Everything about you is important to me,” he says, the naked honesty he so rarely showed anyone enough to make her turn back to look at him, her eyes shining as she licks her lower lip, shaking her head at him again as she chokes on a laugh.
“The other night, after our…date,” she says swallowing thickly, “I invited you in and you ran away like you’d been burned. You didn’t…” She looks down at the floor, another shiver passing through her as she wraps her arms around herself, “You didn’t even kiss me.” 
He sighs and closes his eyes, the guilt that had been simmering low in his gut for days coming to a full boil as she realises how he’d made her feel. It felt nothing short of ridiculous that she’d think he was anything less than completely in love with her, let alone disgusted at the thought of touching her, but he’d panicked in the moment. A combination of not wanting her to think it was all about sex for him and not wanting to let her down forcing him to bolt, his lips pressed against her cheek whilst she still had her keys in her hand, his body pushing him towards the elevator in her building before he could stop himself. 
He’d wanted to go to hers the following morning, breakfast in hand and his tail between his legs as he apologised and did his best to explain it to her, but a case had got in the way. Any attempt he made to talk to her the last few days had been rebuffed and now he knew why.
“And I get that you probably aren’t attracted to me, and that’s fine, I just need some time-”
He laughs humourlessly, the thought of not being attracted to her so absurd that he can’t stop it, and she looks furiously at him, anger and upset flooding her expression in a way that stops him.
“Em, it’s not that,” he assures her, stepping closer, “It could never be that.” 
She frowns at him, her breath caught in her chest as her eyes meet his, “Then what is it?” 
He sighs and reaches out for her, grateful when she doesn’t flinch this time, his hand on her back as he encourages her closer, “I didn’t want you to think it was about sex for me,” he says, clearing his throat, “It never could just be that. And…I didn’t want to let you down.” 
Her frown only gets deeper, her breath a fleeting piece of warmth as it skips across his face, “What do you mean let me down?” 
“I married my high school sweetheart, Em,” he says, and he knows if he wasn’t cold, if he wasn’t standing in a goddamn freezer, his cheeks would go warm with embarrassment, “ You’re the first person I’ve dated since. You do the math.” 
Her eyebrows shoot up her forehead as it registers, “Oh,” she says, her lips pressed together as she nods, “So Kate Joyner…”
He smiles at her, running his hand up and down her back as she shivers against him, “We never liaised.”
She laughs and shakes her head, his careful choice of words letting her know that he’d heard her all those years ago, “Considering what we do for a living, we suck at communicating.” 
He nods in agreement, “We do,” he confirms, hooking his finger under her chin so she looks up at him, “But we can learn to get better at it together. If you’d like.” 
She looks between his lips and his eyes and she nods ever so slightly, barely distinguishable even though she’s this close to him, “I’d like that.” 
He’s the one to close the gap, to press his lips against hers, and he sinks into it. His grip on her tighter as she wraps her arms around his neck, the tip of her nose pressing against his cheek as she deepens the kiss. He’s sure on some level that it should be strange that their first kiss, the kiss she’s sure is his last first kiss, was taking place in a freezer an unsub had locked them in. A freezer he’d likely stored the bodies of his victims in. But Aaron can’t bring himself to care, his focus only on her and the way she sighs contentedly, the sound passing from her mouth to his.
When she pulls back she rests her forehead against his, her nose rubbing against his as she smiles, “Your nose is cold.” 
“Yours is too,” he says, tucking her closer to him, his chin on top of her head as he tries to keep her as warm as he can, “Someone should be here soon.” 
She hums, her face pressed against his shirt as she sought out the fading warmth of his skin, “I hope so,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “It would suck if that the only time we ever got to kiss was in a fucking freezer the unsub used to store bodies.” 
He can’t help but smile and he leans in and stamps his lips against hers, “It really would suck.”
___
By the time the team find them, they are huddled together sitting on the floor, both of them close to passing out. 
Aaron tries to fight it when the EMTs separate them and put them in different ambulances, and he can hear Emily doing the same, her demands that she was fine diminished by the way her jaw was chattering when she spoke. He barely pays any attention to Dave’s assurances that they’d caught Ramsey, that he was in police custody, all of his focus on Emily and how cold she’d been when they’d taken her from his embrace. 
They get taken to the local hospital and they are separated there too. Dave keeps him company whilst JJ does the same for Emily, both providing frequent updates about the other to keep Aaron and Emily in their respective beds. 
Aaron sits up straighter when he sees Dave walk back into the room, his request to know how Emily is doing cut off before he can even start speaking. 
“She’s fine,” Dave says as he sinks into the chair next to Aaron’s bed, a wry smile on his face, “Just like she was 10 minutes ago. And I told her that you’re fine,” he adds, raising his eyebrow, “Just like I did 10 minutes ago.” 
“Thanks, Dave.” 
“No problem,” he says, waving him off, his smile too close to a smirk for Aaron’s liking, “You’re somehow both more annoying now you’re together though.” 
Aaron frowns as his head snaps towards his friend, “What…who…who said we’re together.” 
Dave laughs and leans back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he shakes his head at his friend, “We did find you huddled together in that freezer,” he says, raising his eyebrow, “And before you try and say it was for warmth, you’re both asking about each other in a way only a panicked partner would,” he smiles, “Plus we found you with her lipstick on your lips.”
Aaron groans and rests his head back on the pillow, any hopes of secrecy about his relationship with Emily as they got used to the change in it without outside influence.
“We…had time to figure things out whilst we were in there,” he says diplomatically, and Dave hums thoughtfully. 
“I might have to make sure they go easy on Ramsey in that case,” he says, winking at his friend, “He was able to achieve what the rest of us have been trying to do for years.” 
__
When she wakes up, she feels cold. 
The only thing that feels warm is her hand, and not one part of her is surprised when she opens her eyes to see Aaron sitting next to her bed, both of his hands wrapped around her hand. 
“Hi,” she says, smiling softly when he looks up at her, the relief in his eyes palpable. He’s wearing a hospital gown and a robe, “Should you be in here?” 
He smiles and lifts her hand to press a kiss against her knuckles, his lips warmer than she thinks they should be, “My body temp got back up to normal,” he says, kissing her knuckles again, “I charmed one of the nurses into letting me in here.” 
She hums, “And here I thought that charming smile was all for me.” 
He stands and sits on the edge of her bed, smiling at her like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, “Everything is for you, sweetheart.” 
She can’t help but laugh. The way her cheeks heat up at the use of the nickname makes them sting, the contrast to the rest of her body almost too much to take. When she first met him she never could have imagined him like this - soft and kind and hers. She reaches up and cups his cheek, dragging him in for a kiss, his nose warm against her cheek. 
“Your nose is warm,” she says as they pull back just enough for her to speak. He smiles and kisses her again. 
“Yours is still cold.” 
She rubs her nose against his for a second before she pulls back, “You should get in here with me,” she says, throwing back the heating blanket over her waist and shifting in the bed, “Warm me up.” 
“Em…”
“Please?” She says, patting the bed next to her, “You’ve got all that body heat and I’ve got none.”
He lovingly shakes his head at her but stands up and climbs into the bed anyway, tugging her into his side as he pulls the blanket back over them both, “Better?”
She nods against him, tucking herself as close to him as she can, sighing contentedly as she feels his warmth seep from his skin to hers, “Much better.” 
He kisses the top of her head and runs his hand up and down her arm, “When we’re home I’ll take you on another date,” he says, smiling at her when she tilts her head to look up at him, “Make sure it ends properly this time.”
She smiles at him and kisses the underside of his jaw, taking a moment to breathe him in before she replies, “I’d like that,” she says, kissing him as he turns his head, “I’d like that a lot.” 
-x-
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goth-mami-writer · 19 hours
Text
☆Unbothered☆ (pt.2)
~(AU) Leon Kennedy × f!Reader drabble/work
~Find part one here
~{Part 3 coming soon! ♡}
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@lizzetmv ♡ @danigirls-missions ♡
《 You re-entered the house after dropping the kids at your mom's. You were still tired, but somehow you felt jittery listening to your quiet house from the foyer. Leon would be home later that night, and you'd be alone for a while, but your first thing to do with the silence of your home….evaded your mind. You wanted to catch up on laundry. Or maybe vacuum. But neither of those were relaxing, just necessary. So you decided on a shower.
Truthfully, you just wanted to stand under the water without worrying how long you'd been away from downstairs. When you stood in your towel afterwards, you realized you had time to look in the mirror for once instead of rushing to put on clothes.
Or even makeup that didn't have to take four seconds while you yelled down the stairs for everyone to have their shit ready and be in the car.
You wondered how long it'd even been since you used your vanity, and you sat down in front of the small mirror in your bedroom as you decided on what to wear. After you finished your face, you slipped into a dress that you knew might not make Leon turn his head too hard. It was old, and you'd worn it to events before, but God, it had been years. But suddenly you heard from downstairs as he came inside.
You checked your watch after noticing how early it was for him to be in, and you hurried down the hallway. You found him in the kitchen and asked from the catwalk that hung above your living room if he was playing hooky from work.
“No-” Leon said, not looking up away from the counter where he unboxed the take out dinner he'd bought on the way in so neither of you would have to cook,
“I finished up early and figured to hell with the last hour. God, it's quiet in here without the k-”
You watched as he froze after turning to face you almost by mistake. He had to look twice to make sure he wasn't mistaken, and you questioned the look on his face,
“What?”
“You-” He stuttered before smirking up to you, “I've not seen you wear something like that in a while….Does it feel good?”
You looked around unsure how to answer although you knew exactly what you wanted to say. It did feel good to pretend maybe for just a weekend that you weren't sleep deprived and on the cusp of a breakdown.
“-Cause it looks good.” Leon said, stepping closer to the stairs. While hiding your smile, you crept down to meet him, and you mentioned that the food smelled good to change the subject. You noticed a brown grocery bag on the counter, and your brow furrowed to wonder what else he had brought along.
Leon showed you a new bottle of wine he'd got for the two of you to share but there was something else in the bottom of the bag that looked to be wrapped the same as candy. You held it up to the light to inspect it closer as he seemed to stray away almost intentionally. He began to explain as your eyes narrowed in once the realization set in to what he had bought,
“That- I saw that and figured for dessert... we could share a little chocolate.” Leon said, trying not to sound mischievous, but a grin formed on his mouth playfully.
“Leon- did you seriously buy sex chocolate?” You asked while reading the wrapper plastered in hearts with aphrodisiac ingredients listed clearly on the nutrition label.
He giggled as he opened the wine to pour a glass for each of you and he shrugged, mentioning in a daring tone when he realized his mouth could be a little more dirty now that he didn't have to censor in the presence of the kids,
“I mean…we've never really planned to fuck before. It's always just happened.. So why not…go full throttle? Come on, it'll be fun. They only take an hour to kick in.”
He offered your glass of wine across the counter, watching you bend to his idea of fun on your night off. You took a cautious drink, knowing that the whole point of spontaneous sex was you didn't have to plan it and it was twice as rewarding because of that.
But scheduled sex that was almost guaranteed to be worth a damn….seemed fool proof.
“I know we don't really need it.”
“And, yeah, yeah-” Leon said with that facetious roll to his eyes,
You checked your watch, not telling him exactly why until after you opened the pack of chocolate. Two squares were kept inside the foil paper and you put one to your nose. It smelled like something close to normal chocolate and Leon began to inspect it too under the kitchen light.
“This should go good with that wine actually-” He mentioned before looking up in disbelief at what you were doing.
He saw you place one square into your mouth already, and you washed it down with a sip of wine somewhat fearlessly as he watched in awe. You looked up to him, watching his jaw drop in seeing that you had no more doubts about this, and you said with a purr as you sloshed the Cabernet in your glass,
“We got an hour to kill. You want to watch a movie?”
You were so unsure before these few minutes but now there wasn't a shadow of doubt. It made Leon smile widely while putting the other chocolate into his mouth with a wink to follow your lead,
“Yeah- I'll bring the wine.”
You sat on the couch together, but neither of your eyes were open long enough to even see what was on TV. Leon was nuzzled into your neck, kissing you warmly and much to your delight when you felt his tongue softly grazing.
Your leg rested over his lap, letting his hand knead against your thigh from beneath your dress as your eyes were closed in the bliss of what felt like foreplay. It hadn't felt like this since before the kids were even thought of. While you two were dating those years ago. He'd come to town after an assignment in DC and you'd find a hotel to sneak to for the night. It was always the highlight of your weekend and the way he kept you busy those nights were something you dreamed of anymore.
Gently, he laid you to the couch and your heart raced even more. You wanted to go upstairs but you couldn't move away from this. His hands cupped handfuls of your chest as he lied across you to kiss you. Your legs instinctually opened at the first surge of becoming turned on and his face softened when he felt you welcoming him in so close.
Before you could ask him if he kept any of his condoms down here, there was a noise from under the couch's throw pillow that made both of you jump. You were startled by the whirring and buzzing that was muffled from beneath you and Leon moved you slightly to find one of the baby's toys that had been lost within the couch cushions.
Together you both laughed softly and Leon mentioned in a mutter from above with a wink after you caught a breath,
“You wanna finish this upstairs? I think this chocolate's kicking in.”
“It's been fifteen minutes, Leon.” You mentioned playfully and he shrugged with a smile, asking why you two had to wait.
You agreed with a chuckle and followed him upstairs. Already, you found yourself softly stumbling from only one glass of wine but you knew you'd be plenty sober in just a few minutes. You noticed that he was stumbling as well and you laughed, teasing him for nudging the door frame as he slothed his way into the bedroom.
“Damn, I feel like I can hear the whole neighborhood.” Leon mentioned in a slur from the quiet as he began to undress.
You took the bottle of wine that he still carried and set it on your nightstand. You felt your head swimming re-entering your bathroom, he'd kissed off all of your lipstick as you noticed in the mirror but you stripped down to your underwear, letting your dress stay on the bathroom floor.
He watched you crawl into the bed nonchalantly as he sat on his side, unbuttoning his shirt. He chuckled when he found you snuggled up to your pillow as he crawled beneath the covers beside you.
Gently he pulled you to his lips again, wrapping you around him there in the dark as you both became slowly tangled on the bed. You felt your heart racing but there was this softness present now, one that you didn't feel downstairs on the couch.
You turned, laying him down with his back meeting the mattress and straddled his waist before leaning back down to his lips. His hands met your face, cupping under your jaw but you felt as his fingers then tangled into your hair so sweetly as he kissed you. This was the softness that felt so new.
Both of you became out of breath from the shared, elevated heart rate between you and Leon pulled away only for a moment to put your forehead against his. He knew too that any kind of touch or kiss hadn't felt like this in years and he muttered with that same intoxicated cadence that you found endearing,
“It feels good to just do this too.” He chuckled under his breath, letting his lips graze yours as he spoke,
“Are we that damn old now? Where getting off just to do it won't cut it anymore?”
After telling him you loved him, your eyes fluttered when he told you the same. He lied your head on his chest and together you both fell asleep just as you thought you would. Leon held you in your shared slumber that was broken hours later by your phone ringing.
Your mother had called to give you an update that they'd made it to the children's aunt's and tiredly you thanked her for the call, mentioning that Leon and yourself had gone to bed a little early after dinner. You told the children you loved them and missed them before hanging up.
Leon awoke hearing you talking to your mother and he rose on his side of the bed to ask if the kids were okay. You nodded but noticed him holding his head after he spoke.
“How the hell am I light headed with a splitting headache?” He asked in a groan but as soon as he became close, you felt something churn from inside you. It's like the scent of his cologne was almost overpowering but it was…nice?
You put your nose into his neck, smelling for which one of his usuals that he wore but you furrowed your brow with a deep inhale
“What cologne are you wearing, baby?”
You felt his skin shimmer with goosebumps strangely as your nose grazed him and he trembled,
“Jesus- baby, I'm not wearing cologne.”
You told him how good he smelled but then raised from the bed to open the bedside window since normally you both sleep with the fan on. Leon tried to look and see what time it was, but your silhouette in the dimly lit room made his eyes widen. You slightly leaned over your dresser to unlatch the window, and Leon watched as the curve of your ass shook as you reached forward.
He felt a twitch towards his navel and looked down below the covers to find out exactly why he was lightheaded.
There wasn't any blood flow and hadn't been. He was sporting an undeniable hard-on from the aphrodisiacs.
“Hey honey-” He said, trying not to sound alarmed that he was so hard that he couldn't think straight thanks to the chocolates that had kicked in during your small nap.
“What?”
“We're gonna need to keep that window closed tight.”
You turned around to snap heatedly that it was hot as hell up here but you saw that his eyes kept glancing down to his lap. You put the pieces together, looking at your phone to see what time it was but when you moved you felt a chill of cold air between your thighs. You were wet and your thighs were smeared with moisture from the arousal brought on by those damn chocolates.
Your eyes shot to Leon, who brought his hand up to show you the tremble in his fingers from being so turned on that he was shaking. You knew this was why you thought he smelt so good those moments ago, it was intrinsic like an instinct. Leon then reiterated with an urgency that begged you to get back in bed before he got up to do it himself,
“Close that window, or this whole damn neighborhood is gonna hear us instead.”
You slammed the window shut, thinking to yourself as your veins swelled with your racing heartbeat to know that you needed him so desperately. This might take all night and you had never been so thankful for falling asleep in all your life when you told him breathily,
“And to hell if they do.” 》
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writing-whump · 2 days
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Woww thank you for the accident fic I was one of the fans who asked for it 😄 maybe it was not fun for you as much as other but I really enjoyed it (guess I'm a huge fan of those kind unexpected drama and sacrifice lol) Tbh, I don't want to bore you, or mess your schedule and attention but I can't help myself! Well, ok, I admit I'm a drama-addict and love to read other's reactions to it. Sorry for insisting!!
So it's just a tiny request, it really doesn't have to a fic-long as usual (if you want to write that way of course it's way better for me lol) I'm just curious about how would Isiah feel and think when he found out about the accident. I understand that this kind of trauma can be healed easily for wolves and not a concern, and Hex&Arnie got through it well, but it could be worse, right? Idk maybe Arnie would feel stressed about it afterwards and worry about Hex even though he's already healed. He might also blame himself for what happened as he was driving? Anyways, would you consider write another part stress sick Arnie and caretaker Isiah?
-🛼
I mean, this is fitting, since Arnie doesn't get stress sick, but he gets stress migraines. And we didn't have him with Isaiah as caretaker for a while...here you go🥰🤗
Stress migraine
Arnie really wanted to have fun today.
Hector was sleeping third day in a row already, tyring to get his shadow back up after all the healing. Nobody really knew, since Hector wouldn't want the pack to know and refused to call anyone.
Arnie understood. It was usually just the two of them, when something bad happened to either. Hector never let himself or Arnie find out if they had other people they could trust.
But now they had someone like that back. Someone they could call.
Other thing was that there wasn't really much to tell. Hector was fine, the car was getting fixed, Arnie wasn't hurt very much. What was he supposed to make a scene for, when there was no proof something even happened?
He caught himself looking for the little wound in his hair in the mirror just to make sure he didn't dream the whole accident up.
They had a scheduled meeting with Isaiah on Saturday though and Arnie figured it was a good opportunity as any to get out and distract himself.
He wanted to stop waking up to the fear he was back at the car or keep checking Hector every 30 minutes like he would start coughing blood out of his sleep all of sudden.
No, this was good.
Isaiah took him on a tour around Vienna. He said it was a scandal Arnie didn't get to see the center yet and that he didn't know all the sights by memory now.
Isaiah definitely did. They took Tram D around the main ring of the first district. Many important things were all after each other, parliament, city hall, the two giant museums of natural history and art history right across each other, the giant theater, the Butterfly House...
Isaiah refused to take a car, when everything was so well-connected and they spend the day on foot, from one park to another, one big street to another.
Isaiah seemed to have a thought out plan of switching between greenery and impressive buildings, talking all about the style of architecture, how many times they were rebuild, who famous lived there.
Arnie was so overwhelmed with all the information he stopped putting it together halfway through. He took comfort from just Isaiah's relaxed mood, his zealous voice and ardent expression.
Everything was all good with the world again. One could believe it, listening to him.
Somewhere around midday they went to get lunch near the Schonenbrun castle and gardens, Isaiah treating him to schnitzel and cake for good measure. He never let Arnie pay for anything when they were together.
"I have the same inheritance as you do," Arnie objectdd as he took a sip from his cold brew coffee.
Isaiah smiled. "Yeah, but we will start this talk once you make your own. Rich or not, there is nothing like earning your own money for the first time. Your effort, you decision."
"So you want to pay for everything with what you earn?"
"The assistance job I got at the uni pays well. I also helped out with a city planning project last year that had very good funding."
Arnie leaned back in the chair. "That's cool. What about your whole wolf helping activities? Hector says you get called to things all around the city. Do you get any pay from that?"
Isaiah took a spoonful of his chocolate lava cake. "No, I don't do that for money. I like helping out."
"You shouldn't be doing that for free though, when it takes so much of your time. Or is it the contacts and favours you gather that way?"
"Isn't it worthwhile and helpful when you can give people things without having them pay for it?"
"Yeah sure, but that's sustainable if you actually use all the money you were born with. If you were born with it." He was getting the impression Isaaih didn't like relying on anything that came from their father. "Besides, don't people take skills and advice more seriously if they have to pay for it? If you give it for free, they might not take any interest at all. It's a way to show them something is valuable."
"What exactly would I call it? Hello, I have experience that your shadow is entirely manageable with the right kind of training, but your pack doesn't seem to know, so come and listen to me?" Isaiah shook his head. Way to insult the pack and trivialise the wolf's problems.
"You have expert training from leading packs of the West. If you wanted to make that systematically accessible through courses or stuff, I think people would find it easer to find you. You could even prevent most of the problems the packs and human authorities call you to."
Isaiah chuckled. "You aren't the first one to suggest something like that. Matthew said something similar. Even Seline said I could make it a job. I don't know. I like working in the academic environment as well."
"It's not like you would have to choose between one or the other. Plus academic jobs are pretty instable I hear."
"You didn't even start uni yet and you are hearing about uni conditions?"
Arnie shrugged. "Lots of protests about the Mittelbau and the time constrained chain contracts around lately." Apprently 80% of the academic workforce that didn't have safe professor status worked under conditioned contracts, always afraid if they were going to be prolonged or not and if they wouldn't have to move to another town just to get a job they specilized in.
"It's impressive you can understand it. You still thinking about law school?"
"Yep." Hector was very careful about not mentioning it too much so Arnie wouldn't feel pressured, but he knew Hector would find it useful. Even wolves had to respect the law.
And Arnie would love to feel a bit more powerful around them.
"You are still studying it too?"
"Additional classes and courses, yeah. It's not my main subject, but it's useful in practice."
Arnie hummed, satisfied with the prognosis of that. He wanted to know useful important stuff.
They talked some more about law and different teaching styles of different faculties.
Everything was going well, except the sun was becoming a bit too much and Arnie's temples were starting to pulse.
Why now? He finally relaxed, finally forgot about what happened at home...
His stomach flipped at the reminder. He was pleasantly full just a minute ago, but now it felt like too much.
They paid and strolled around the gardens, when Arnie said: "Let's sit in the shade for a bit?"
Isaiah gave him a puzzled look that they barely got up and Arnie wanted to sit down already, but complied.
For such a historical sight, there were lots of people chilling on the benches in the shadows. Lots of trees planted for that purpose aside all the magnificently styled flowers everywhere.
"It's really hot today," Arnie said, tugging at the collar of his buttonup. Short sleveed, but still.
"There is a good ice cream stand nearby. I'll get you some." Isaiah patted him on the back as he left.
Arnie slumped back on the bench, relieved to be out of sight for a bit. He didn't want to ruin the tour that Isaiah planned out so carefully, but his head was positively pounding.
He didn't get a headache after the accident. That was weird in hindsight. Usually, when something stressful like that happened, he would absolutely get one.
He must have been too worried for Hector to let himself relax enough for it to set in. Veins must have finally opened from their tense contraction, and that's what made it painful.
Cold sweat was gathering at the back of his neck. His right temple felt like someone was putting a drill to it, while the other was held in a crushing grip.
The sunlight was so blinding, even though he was in a nice shade. He felt goosebumps on his arms, as his lovely lunch churned inside him.
Arnie leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees as he swallowed heavily against the saliva pooling in his mouth.
His stomach let out an angry whine, cramping up. Arnie hid his face in his hands, taking quick shallow breaths. Not now, not now, not now.
He groaned as his lunch roiled inside him, sniffling. There weren't many people around him in particular but this was still a public space. Beautiful gardens under a tree with a view of the castle, no less.
A burp snuck its way past his lips. His upper lip was covered in sweat now too. He could taste the salt as he licked his lips.
Arnie knew from experience it would only make him more miserable to fight it. The pain in his temples pulsed in synch with his heartbeat.
When he looked up from his hands, the sunlight pierced his eyes even stronger. The pain in his left temple spiked and Arnie heaved, pulling his feet more apart.
He swallowed the first retch down, but the second almost made him choke. Letting his head hang between his knees, he burped, the third wave bringing up the cake and the cold coffee onto the ground.
His brain was buzzing in his skull, so he kept his eyes closed, completely giving in to the sensations. Another wave of puke landed between his feet. Arnie only hoped his shoes wouldn't get dirty.
"Aww kiddo. What happened to you?" He felt Isaiah's cold hand against his nape. Isaiah discarded the two scones of ice cream on the ground at the sight of him, sitting down gently next to him.
That's when another wave of yellow brown puke found its way up, tasting of the potato salad and meat. Arnie groaned, back arching as he vomited up the longest stream yet.
Isaiah held his shoulder to steady him, rubbing up and down. "What happened? Did you feel sick suddenly? Or before? Is it the sun?"
Arnie burped emptily, spitting at the pool between his feat. The smell was making him nauseous still.
"I thought we took enough breaks in the shade. Maybe I miscalculated. You are sweating all over."
Arnie sniffled, his nose running. He kept his eyes closed still, the pounding in his head worse whenever the tried to open his eyes. He tilted towards Isaiah's voice blindly.
Isaiah obediently filled in the spot, letting Arnie lean against his shoulder. "Shhhhh. All good now. We will cool you down and you will feel better in no time."
Arnie sniffled again, curling into Isaiah's clean cologne, probably leaving a trail of snot behind. "Head hurtsss."
"I know, buddy, I know."
"...wanna go home."
Isaiah nodded over his head. "I'll call a taxi. We can go to my place too..."
Arnie shook his head. "Home." He wanted his own bed, his curtains, his medicine, though it would probably take a bit for his stomach to settle enough for it.
Isaiah was quite as they waited, only wrapping his arm around Arnie and helping him up when the taxi came. It was more or less a blurr for Arnie, who was glad Isaiah took over so eagerly, masterfully, despite not even knowing what was wrong.
As they sat in the back of the car, Arnie buried his face in Isaiah's chest, trying to muffle the sounds and light as much as possible.
"You will be okay. Just breathe."
"I'm sorry I ruined the trip."
"You didn't, you didn't. Should have chosen a later hour. With this heat-"
"Not the heat," Arnie sighed. "Migraine."
Isaiah tensed underneath him. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Miragine. It's fine. Not...not your fault."
"Since when do you get migraines?" Isaiah said in a strangled voice.
"Since I was 12? Or 13? Something like that." He moaned quietly as the car took a turn and jostled him.
Isaiah tighed his grip around his torso. They sat in silence for a while before he spoke again. "How often do you get them?"
"Not regularly anymore. Something...usually something triggers it."
Isaiah's hand went up his arm, gently sneaking into his sweaty hair. When Arnie leaned into the touch, Isaiah started rubbing at his temples gently.
"What triggered it this time?" Isaiah asked softly.
The car jostled them again, making them both jump up and down on their seats. Arnie tensed up, then buried his face against Isaiah's neck with a moan.
Isaiah held him as tight as he could without making it painful. Arnie fought against the growing pressure behind his eyes, lips pressed together.
"Arnie?"
Isaiah's voice was so soft and concerned in his ear it got the tears spilling down Arnie's cheeks. "I-it's nothing. Nothing really happened. We-we just-" He sobbed quietly.
"Shhhhh."
"We-we were in a car accident with Hex. Three days ago." He felt the coldness wash over them as the car came into the underground parking place of their apartment complex. Arnie blinked, leaning back, blinking his eyes open in relief at the darkness.
He looked at Isaiah with teary eyes. "I-I was driving and it wasn't my- but Hex, he- protected me and got super hurt and, and he is fine now..."
Isaiah watched him carefully, green eyes of the same shade meeting his. They seemed to have a glow in the dark from how intensity he focused on Arnie.
"But I was really scared, you know? And it's stupid to be upset about it, cause nothing h-happened-"
"It's not stupid. It was scary and horrible, no matter the outcome. I'm sorry that happened."
"B-but I shouldn't be upset, right? Cause we are fine, we are both fine-" His breath hitched with another sob as another tear ran down his cheek. Some part of his brain wondered how the taxi driver didn't say a thing, waiting for Arnie to cry his eyes out on his backseat.
Isaiah brushed some sweaty blond hair away from Arnie's forehead. "And that's important that you are both healthy and okay. But it makes perfect sense you are upset too. You are allowed to get scared and worried."
Arnie's face twisted with another sob as Isaiah petted his hair gently, carefully watching him for any signs it was making the headache worse. But the pressure was really going down as Arnie let the emotion go, through words and tears.
"We didn't have to go out today if you were upset," Isaiah said.
"I wanted to see you though. And we had it scheduled..." so it was the best opportunity.
"If you called me, I would have come. We don't have to just meet when it's 'scheduled' or when you need help with something serious, you know?" Isaiah was still combing Arnie's hair away, when he started to look through his pockets with their other hand, manifesting a paper towel out of nowhere. "Here."
Arnie wiped his face and carefully blew his nose.
"I want to know when something happens in your lives. Good or bad, big or small," Isaiah said, no trace of reproach in his voice, though he sounded firm. "I want to be in the picture."
Arnie felt better hearing it somehow. It was like a permission to call him, even when the trouble wasn't real. Even if it was just Arnie wanting to talk.
The younger boy took a shaky breath, offering Isaiah a shy smile.
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terrence-silver · 2 days
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(This is the plot opening to the movie Mulholland Drive) If beloved was a victim of a car crash but she survives with scars on all over body with amnesia and is seen stumbling down Los Angeles by Terry, what do you think he’d do when he sees her?
---
To reference my previous post here but, yeah, finders keepers?
He has a perfect opportunity to do, oh, I don't know, just about whatever he wants and simultaneously seem like the hero? The benefactor? Have complete and utter control over a situation and an individual? Appear like a kind man saving a car crash survivor? All while tenderly molding the person? Utilizing their amnesia to make himself whatever in reference to them and vice versa, effectively invading their life? Pushing aside any and all family members because he'll pretend to be concerned for beloved's mental state and how many people they should be around in the first place to ''avoid overburdening their traumatized psyche', all while, in reality, he wants to be the only one on their mind from now on. Nobody else. Practically abducting beloved from the world by alerting pretty much nobody of importance that he found a full blown person next to a vehicle wreckage. Again! It's for beloved's benefit, he promises! Their brain needs rest. Their body too. You'll find this man has an excuse and a valid, moral-sounding explanation for everything, all while selling the whole situation like there's no strings attached. That he has noble intentions in mind. That Terry Silver's merely doing this --- this whole business of taking someone like this under his wing out of sheer unselfishness, unable to let some poor, poor lost lamb wonder the highway bloodied and bruised?
He's too much of an sweet hearted man to do that, don't you know?
But, of course, we know nothing's for free and that he seldom ever does anything without an agenda, if ever, that he's ultimately claiming beloved in their most vulnerable state, leaving out any and all authorities from the issue (or promptly bribing them off) bypassing every rule of ethics and usurping beloved's whole life into his own, making himself indispensable, necessary, the support network of the century. He can sell whatever lies he wishes to them, tell whatever truths he deems fit, give way to half-truths, partial truths, twisted truths, gaslight them, shape their memories however he pleases, manipulate them, seduce them, isolate them, take them into private treatment off the records instead of maintaining them in a hospital because it's frightening what a powerful person with money can get away with, make it seem like his presence here is entirely beloved's idea because they need him ---- look at the state of them after all; they absolutely cannot be unsupervised and no, no, Terry's conscience cannot allow him to leave them, at least until he's sure they're better, basically wiggling his way in and seeming like a saint while he does it, making beloved seem like the unreasonable party for doubting him or wanting privacy --- they barely survived and yet they shrug away any and all help, especially when he's offering help so readily and with so much passion --- he could have beloved feeling irrational, indebted and ungrateful in no time, and himself, as the ever-understanding best friend in the whole wide world they didn't know they lacked until now. Look at the all the things he's done for them, after all; their recovery resort is a palatial mansion, they've a waiting staff, private nurses (probably contractually obliged into silence) and an array of security, for their own protection, even though, he's here. He'll protect them. What happened to them will never happen again. He'll look after them. He'll look after them so well.
But, that's why Terry loves LA.
Opportunities like this are sprawled out in the streets in front of him every day, and all he has to do is find them, recognize their worth, potential or in beloved's case, there was a literal diamond chunk on the highway, and since he's picked it up, cleaned it, polished it, it's his for the keeping. Into his pocket it goes. The rules of the game are what you make them. Everything he'll plant inside of beloved's head will be infinitely better than whatever their life previously was considering their previous existence didn't have him. Boo. And clearly, whoever beloved's original social circle was allowed them to total their car and nearly die --- something Terry takes immensely personally, holding an outright grudge over the whole thing and everyone involved, refusing to view and accident as an accident; more like a reason to retaliate. A reason for revenge. Not that he won't utilize the needed channels to find out everything about beloved anyway outside of his conditioning because he'll feel it's his right to know the same way it's his right to withhold whatever it is he knows. As I said; finders keepers. Beloved's mind, body and soul all belong to him now.
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