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#this is so cool i can’t wait to see it finished
middlepartmatt · 2 days
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7 Minutes in Heaven
"baby, let me take the pressure off you. i'll make the first move, and do what i got to” — PLAY WITH ME, rendezvous at two
SUMMARY: at a party, you end up spending 7 minutes in a closet with the quietest boy in school — matt. when the time runs out and you’re both left unsatisfied, you tell him to come find you to finish what you started.
WARNINGS: smut, sub!matt x dom!reader, praise kink, handjob, edging, oral (male receiving)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: no thoughts just sub matt
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“Who’s next?”
The living room bustles with excitement, the sounds of voices drowning out the thumping music in the background. You originally came to this party with your best friend, but she quickly disappeared with her boyfriend, leaving you to fend for yourself in this ginormous house. Even though you know almost everyone here from school, you haven’t really spoken to anyone yet, which is very unlike you.
So, when someone suggested 7 minutes in heaven, you immediately nodded your head and sat down alongside everybody else who wanted to play. You’ve been sitting here for over half an hour now, patiently waiting for your turn. You fiddle with the cup in your hands, eagerly waiting to see who's going next. If nobody volunteers, you're thinking of being the one to spin the bottle. It's getting boring sitting out here, and you're in the mood for a bit of fun. It's been a while.
“Matt, you go!”
You turn your head, gaze landing on Chris Sturniolo, a boy in your Chemistry class. You’ve not spoken to him much, but he’s always cracking jokes that often times get him sent out of the room. Next to him is one of his triplet brothers, as Chris nudges his arm and points towards the bottle on the coffee table in the middle.
You don’t know much about Matt, other than that he’s the total opposite of Chris. He’s introverted, quiet, shy. Even the way he’s sitting now shows just how uncomfortable he is, hunched over on the couch, looking sheepish as his glasses slide down his nose slightly. You’re not usually into glasses, but you can’t help but think that they look weirdly cute on him.
“Me?” Matt asks, eyes widening as he turns to his brother. Chris nods enthusiastically, so Matt sighs and reaches forward to spin the bottle.
You watch carefully, bringing your drink up to your lips and taking a long sip. The bottle slowly spins to a stop, and much to everyone’s surprise, it ends up pointing right at you.
You feel everyone’s eyes on you but you ignore it, getting up from the couch and setting your now-empty drink down on the coffee table. You begin heading towards the closet, then turn around when you notice you're the only one who seems to be doing so.
“Are you coming?” you ask Matt, who nods quickly, jumping up from his seat and dusting himself off.
“Y-yeah,” he murmurs awkwardly. It’s clear that he’s nervous from the way he’s struggling to meet your gaze, but this doesn’t faze you. You just turn back around and open the closet door, walking inside.
Matt follows, shutting the door behind him. The two of you are now enclosed in darkness, excluding fairy lights that have been strung around the room to give it a calm ambiance.
You and Matt face each other, and it’s only now that you realize how close the two of you are. His breath is hot as he shakily inhales and exhales, trying to keep his cool around you. His behavior only makes you more curious about him… has he ever been this close with a girl before? Now that you think about it, this is the first party you’ve ever seen him at. Usually, he’s always at home whenever his brothers go out, and at school he often keeps to himself or his small friendship group.
“So… uh- how are you?” Matt asks randomly, looking visibly embarrassed. It's evident that he's never played this game before, either that or his nerves are getting the best of him. You suspect it's a mix of the two, because where else would Matt have played 7 minutes in heaven? It makes you smile a little on the inside, the fact that you're the first doing something to you.
“Good,” you reply, playing along mainly for his sake. He nods at your response, before shaking his head, like he’s at war with himself.
“S-sorry you’re stuck in here with me,” he says, which surprises you. “This is probably a giant waste of time…” he trails off, before his gaze drifts to the floor and he just stares awkwardly at his shoes.
“Matt,” you say then, catching him off guard. His neck snaps up and your eyes meet once again.
“Hm?” he mumbles. It’s almost like he hates the attention on him, from the way he stands so stiffly.
“I don’t mind,” you shrug. It’s not like you’re saying this just to make him feel better, either — you’ve always found something about him strangely hot. Your curiosity about him combined with his attractiveness that he hides behind books and his glasses causes you to unintentionally look for him around the halls at school, wondering about his life much more than you should. He’s nothing like your type, but this somehow makes you even more attracted to him.
“Oh, uh, o-okay,” he stammers, like he doesn’t know how to react to your response. You grin, taking a step closer to him. Your chest is now flushed against his front, and Matt freezes at how close you two are. “Uh…”
“Have you ever been with a girl before?” you ask suddenly, cutting him off. His eyes widen comically and even in this dim lighting, you can see his cheeks turning red.
“Um, no…” he says, ashamed. You feel a burning desire between your legs, because somehow his lack of experience turns you on even more.
“Would you like to be?” you continue. Matt nods. “Yeah…” he says quietly. You look down and notice he’s clenching his fists, veins bulging out of his forearms. You raise your eyebrows, since this sight is something you never would’ve expected from him.
Pushing yourself further against him, your arms snake around his neck and tangle in his hair as you pull him into a kiss. His lips are wet and soft against yours, and you’re pleasantly surprised by how natural this feels despite his lack of experience.
His arms are hanging by his sides, so you pull one of Matt’s hands up onto your waist. He hesitates for a moment, pausing the kiss to quickly glance downwards.
“Are you… sure?” he asks, eyes full of nervous worry. You stay quiet and nod, pulling on his hair to pull him back in for another kiss. His grip on your waist tightens which catches you by surprise, and you can feel Matt smiling slightly as you kiss him.
You tug slightly on his bottom lip with your teeth, and Matt can’t help but let out a small whimper from this. The kiss turns sloppier then as you both get more into it, and subconsciously you find your hand drifting downwards.
He pulls away from you then, eyes wide as he jerks slightly at your touch. Your hand is still hovering just over his dick, such a small space stopping you from touching him through the baggy jeans he’s wearing.
“Oh, I’ve, um, I…” he begins anxiously, his eventually words getting caught in his throat and he falls silent. You raise an eyebrow curiously.
“Have you ever been touched like this by a girl before?” you question, although you already have a suspicion of what his answer will be.
“No,” Matt sighs, using a hand to cover his face due to his embarrassment. You use your other hand to reach up and pull it away, before pressing a short but sweet kiss to his lips. Matt practically melts into it, and you take this as your sign to finally touch him.
You palm his dick through his clothes, and he looks downwards to see what you’re doing. You use your other hand to push his chin back up so you’re making eye contact, then slide his glasses up his nose and back into place.
“Look at me, baby,” you tell him, and he whines at both your hand palming him and the nickname.
Matt’s never been called baby before, obviously, but the moment the word leaves your lips he’s instantly desperate for you to say it again. It almost makes him feel special, like he’s all yours.
You move your hand now to grip him as best you can through his jeans, and Matt’s body immediately responds as he bucks your hips into your palm. “Fuck,” he groans, panting at the feel of your hand on him.
“You like that?” you ask smugly, feeling wetness pooling between your thighs at how worked up he’s getting. You could stay here all night with him, watching him slowly but surely lose all control. And hell, even though he’s inexperienced, you bet he could do things to you that would leave you moaning and panting just as he is right now.
“Mhm,” Matt mumbles, too overwhelmed to say anything else.
“Use your words, Matt,” you say, running your knuckles up and down his cock tentatively. He whimpers, then bites down on his lip to conceal the sound.
“I- I like it,” he responds shortly. You furrow your eyebrows, removing your hand and crossing your arms.
“Is that it?” you ask teasingly, and Matt looks at you pleadingly, almost like a little puppy. His eyes are wide with shock at the sudden lack of touch on him.
“What?” he exclaims, eyes darting from your face to the hand that had just been on his dick. “I- please just touch me again. Please,” he begs, voice full of need.
This satisfies you, so you smile and reach for him again, going to unzip his jeans as the two of you begin making out again. You brush your tongue against his which he reciprocates surprisingly well. This only makes you more desperate for him, frantically toying at his pants to free his cock. You felt how big he was even through his pants, and it’s only made you more needy for him.
A loud knock at the door catches the two of you by surprise and you both quickly break away. Matt’s cheeks are flushed and with shaky hands he readjusts his pants, trying his best to hide the erection you’ve caused.
“Time’s up!” Chris’ voice calls from the other side of the door. You walk past Matt to open the door of the closet, but he reaches forward and grabs your arm before you get the chance.
“W-we can’t leave!” he whisper-shouts, gesturing down to his crotch. “What am I supposed to do about this?” he asks you frantically. You just shrug, a smirk playing on your lips as your mind is filled with ideas.
“Come find me later and I’ll sort that out for you,” you reply casually, before spinning on your heels and exiting the closet.
Matt’s cheeks burn and he feels his dick getting even harder at just the thought of the two of you continuing where you left off, and maybe even going further.
He just hopes he can find the courage to seek you out.
────
After leaving the closet, you decided to go and get another drink. You weren't interested in playing the game anymore, instead patiently waiting for a certain someone to seek you out to finish what you started.
There's a growing heat between your legs at the thought, your mind wandering dangerously as you think of all the things you'd like to do to him.
Annoyingly though, you haven't seen Matt in what feels like forever. Somehow, he seems to have disappeared from the party. Every time you see either of his brothers you're filled with an indescribable disappointment when you spot the lack of glasses. Maybe he's too shy, after all.
You set down your now-empty red solo cup and head towards the bathroom. Right as you begin walking down the empty hallway, a hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
Turning around, you're met with none other than Matt standing opposite you. A soft blush covers his cheeks and his mouth is curved slightly upwards in a nervous smile. You briefly gaze downwards, a smirk taking over your lips at the sight of his tented jeans.
"Hi, Matt," you greet him nonchalantly, acting as if you have no idea why he's here. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"Y-yeah," he replies, nodding his head in agreement. "I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?" you tease, enjoying the way it makes him squirm uncomfortably.
"I- Uh... Well, you know," he shrugs awkwardly. You raise your eyebrows, acting innocent.
"What?" you question.
"Um..." Matt mumbles, his face scrunching up with shame.
"Use your words, baby," you whisper, leaning closer to him. "Say the words and we'll go upstairs, and I'll touch you wherever you want."
His eyes widen comically at this. Matt opens his mouth to speak, but his words get tangled in his throat and he coughs quietly.
"I, well, I was hoping..." he trails off, losing confidence. But then, he clears his throat and stands up a little straighter. "I was hoping you would, well, get me off."
You smile and nod, shrugging off his grip on your wrist so that you can take his hand, entwining your fingers with Matt's as you drag him upstairs. You pull him into the first empty you find, closing and locking the door behind you.
"Sit down on the bed," you order, and he does exactly as you tell him to. Matt shuffles down the bed so that he's leaning against the headboard, his needy gaze drifting from you to his bulge and back again.
You walk over to him, crawling onto the bed and stopping just in front of him, seductively kneeling before him. You look at his crotch, drawing circles on his thigh with your finger just as you whisper, "You're such a slut, Matt."
His mouth falls open and he shakes his head. "What? No I'm not!" he insists, shaking his head slightly. You tilt your head to the side, batting your eyelashes at him.
"Are you sure?" you ask, your hands drifting upwards to the waistband of his jeans. "Because everyone knows only a slut would come back for more."
Matt gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and then back down. Your hand glides up further to cup his dick through his clothes, and he shifts at the touch, breath becoming heavy.
"You're lucky I like sluts," you go on, palming him just as you were in the dark enclosure of the closet earlier.
"Ugh, fuck," he pants at the pressure of the touch.
"You must be so sore," you tease, pressing down harder which makes his hips buck up into your hand. "Do you want me to touch you now, properly?" you ask then.
"Yes, plea- Fuck. Please touch me," Matt barely manages to get out.
"Only because you asked so nicely, baby."
Your hand moves to the zipper of his jeans, which you pull down and Matt lifts his hips so that you can pull his pants and underwear down. He closes his eyes as his cock springs out, the tip a soft red and already leaking slightly from how long he's been waiting. You resist the urge to gasp at the sheer size of him, especially as you eye a thick vein running from the base to his tip.
"Such a pretty cock," you muse, before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him. A pant escapes Matt's lips as his eyes spring open to see what you're doing to him. Your index finger circles the tip, rubbing some of his precome around it.
"Oh," he breathes, a whimper leaving Matt's lips as you begin to slowly pump him up and down. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, throwing his head back against the headboard as his body is filled with pleasure at your touch.
You're literally soaking wet by now, having never known how hot it could be to watch a man come undone like Matt's doing right now. The way his lip hangs between his teeth and his chest rises and falls has you practically desperate for him to finish just to see how pretty he looks doing it.
You stop pumping him for a moment and Matt looks back down at you, his lips turned downwards into a frown because of your stopped movement.
"W-why'd you stop?" he asks, looking visibly concerned. "Am I... doing something wrong?"
You could laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but you don't and just shake your head. "No, baby," you reassure him, beginning to trace slow, tempting circles around his tip. You rub the pad of your thumb against his slip, causing him to moan loudly and scrunch his eyes shut. "You're doing so perfect, I almost wanna taste you."
Matt's eyes fly open, his gaze filled with need. You shrug your shoulders. "Would you like that?" you ask, and he frantically nods.
"Y-yes," he says between breaths and groans. "Please taste me."
You grin, shifting closer and straddling his thighs. You lean down over him, sticking out your tongue to teasingly lick his slit. Matt bucks his hips, whimpering, pushing more of himself into your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise and you pull yourself off of him, looking up to make eye contact with him.
He's gone pale, mouth open and eyes wide as he realizes what he's just done.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry..." he mutters, looking away from your sheepishly.
"Don't be sorry, baby," you reply easily. "It was hot," you add, and Matt's eyes widen, his gaze snapping back to you.
"R-really?" he asks, voice full of pleasant surprise.
"Yeah," you confirm. "You know what else you can do? Grab my hair and push my head down if you want more."
"What?" Matt exclaims, throat bobbing with nervous excitement. "Are you sure? I mean, if you don't want me to- I'm not really very good at this."
"I'm here to make you feel good, Matt," you remind him. "Do whatever you want to me."
The slight change in power dynamic has Matt's heart racing, and his cock twitches just at the thought of watching your head bob up and down on his cock. While he's still creating scenarios in his head, you reach forward and pull his glasses from his face.
"What are you-" Matt cuts himself off as you slide the glasses up your nose, watching him through the lenses. His cheeks turn a bright pink, but you don't give him the chance to say anything else before you get back to work, licking delicate circles around his tip as your hand pumps the lower part of his dick, around the base.
"Fuck!" Matt moans, his head hitting the headboard with a thump from how hard he throws it back. You giggle around his cock at how easily it is for you to rile him.
You continue to bob up and down, your tongue swirling around his cock when all of a sudden you feel his fingers tangle in your hair. He pushes you down further, and with the third thrust of your head you feel him hit the back of your throat. "Shit, that feels so good, mhm..." Matt whimpers, more to himself than you.
His sudden acceptance to be dominant only makes him hotter in your eyes, and you feel your pussy throbbing even more now. Wearing his glasses isn't helping your case. "Fuckkk," he groans, and you close your eyes as the sound echoes in your mind. You love the thought of Matt being yours, all for you to please and pleasure.
"Fuck, I think I'm gonna-" Matt doesn't have the chance to finish his own sentence before you feel a rope of his warm cum shoot into your mouth in quick spurts. You take it all and slowly pull yourself off of him, swallowing the warm liquid.
"Does that feel better, baby?" you ask smugly, looking at Matt's fucked out face as he breathes heavily.
"Mhm, yeah," he mumbles, not entirely there yet. "You make me feel so good."
"You should come to more parties," you tell him, getting up off of the bed to grab some paper towels to clean him up a little. "Then we could do this again."
"Are you serious?" Matt says, eyes wide.
"Of course," you answer, sitting back down next to him and taking off his glasses. You slide them back up his nose so they sit perfectly on his face, then plant a short kiss to his lips. "I'm waiting for my turn, you know?"
Matt remains quiet for a minute, before his cheeks turn bright red. "Oh!" he gasps. "Right- I'm sorry. We should do that now. It's only fair."
"Slow down, pretty boy," you answer, smiling. "I'll let you rest a little. Next time, I promise."
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AUTHOR'S NOTE PT. 2: needy submissive men are so hot UGHHH this was so fun to write. idk if it's that good tho LOL so lmk
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paranoiastudio · 13 hours
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pairing: Art Donaldson х f!reader
summary: A moment of intimacy with the cutest guy in the world
warnings: 18+ smut, p in v, sub!Art x dom!reader, masturbating
English is not my first language, sorry about mistakes
Cold and still slightly damp arms hug you from behind and you can’t help but snuggle closer to the man. Art is breathing heavily down your neck: he just finished his morning workout, took a shower and was next to you again. All this time you remained in a dark and cool room, wrapped in a large blanket.
- Mmm... Art, dear... - Words are difficult, yesterday you had too much wine and now you didn’t feel too good.
- It's time to get up, it's almost ten. - Art kisses the back of your head, you hear his hoarse laugh in response to your displeased whimper.
You stretch and Art intertwines your arms and legs, pressing you closer. Leaning against his strong chest, you give Art access to your neck and gasp when he immediately finds your pulse with his lips.
- Did we miss breakfast?
- You missed breakfast, my love. - The man smiles, covering your breasts, hidden by the fabric of his T-shirt, with a large calloused palm. - But I brought you something...
- And what is it? - You turn your head and immediately find yourself pulled into a kiss, neat and barely perceptible. It was as if Art was simply touching your lips with his own, standing on the thin line between tenderness and passion. - I didn't brush my teeth.
- I don't care. - Art reaches out for a kiss again, but you roll over and you find yourself face to face.
- I still feel bad... - Flying has always been difficult for you, and next to Art you fly much more often than usual.
- Did you take aspirin? - Concern immediately appears in his beautiful eyes. - Shall I bring you something?
- No, just stay here... - You squeeze Art’s hand and you silently lie together, sharing such a rare moment of peace and quiet.
- I love you. - You knew this, Art had already said this once, you saw his feelings for you, but so far you had never said it in response, deciding that you would only say it when you were absolutely sure of it.
Now, lying in a hotel room on the other side of the world from home, still drunk and swollen, you, listening to yourself, are silent again. You do so much for him. Does it really mean nothing that you dropped everything and went with him?
You kiss Art and move a little closer. Your sweet little boy never pressed you for an answer and you were grateful for that.
- I... - The man stutters as your warm hand touches him through his shorts.
- Hush, just let me take care of you. - You pull back the elastic, lower your shorts, then your panties, and stroke Art’s abs through the T-shirt; his body delighted you every time and you never missed an opportunity to touch him.
Grasping his half-erect member, you gently move your hand and squeeze his balls between two fingers. Art groans and you run your tongue along his long neck, catching a small bead of sweat between his collarbones.
- You shouldn’t strain yourself, there’s such an important match ahead. - You whisper, continuing to move your hand. - The situation is so nervous, I see how tense you are....
Art rests his forehead against yours and thrusts his hips forward, catching your touch. You spit on your palm, making your movements easier and speeding up.
-You can touch me, remember? - You smile at how quickly Art grabs your chest, as if he was waiting for permission. - Do not rush...
The man whines softly and tries to pull your shorts off, you willingly help him, never stopping teasing his dripping cock. It’s already wet between your legs and Art feels it, slowly spreading you apart with his fingers.
- I don't think you should be so overworked. - You take his hand away. - Just let me...
You find yourself close to him and push his penis, red with excitement, between your thighs. The warm friction causes a loud moan from your lover and he immediately begins to move, being squeezed by your legs.
You stroke Art’s head, he kisses your neck and chest, they are right in front of his face and the man continues to fuck himself between your soft and warm thighs.
- Oh God... - Art presses his face to your neck and hugs you much tighter. - I'll cum...
- Come on, baby, please... - Your hoarse voice spurred him on and you felt that he was on the edge.
Pulling back slightly, you take the throbbing member in your hand and insert it into yourself in one smooth motion. Art screams like a wounded bird and you feel him cum copiously inside you.
You move your hips a few more times, taking everything he gives you. The man kisses your sweaty skin, breathes heavily and continues to thrust into you until you calm down completely.
- Thank you... - He always accepted your caresses with such gratitude that it could not help but excite your ego.
You feel him go limp inside you, cum mixed with your secretions running down your inner thigh and dripping onto the bed.
Without opening the hug, you close your eyes and purr blissfully, feeling pleasantly full. All he has to do is cum inside you and you will be glad of it. Isn't this love?
Art doesn’t slip out of you, continuing to bask inside your velvety, warm walls. He clung to you like a child, leaving wet trails of kisses on your skin.
- You need to eat... - He speaks first. - And maybe we’ll go to the doctor?
- No need. I feel better now. - He inhales the aroma of shampoo from Art’s still wet hair and kisses his forehead. - It's always better next to you...
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dokries · 23 hours
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my boo
pairing: boo seungkwan x gender neutral reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1.08k (with bonus)
warnings: seungkwan being embarrassing in public, going to the beach/sea, mentions of food in the bonus
author note: hi i know it’s may but. here’s a first snow seungkwan fic? i wrote this and originally posted it in early december so…basically, i don’t want to keep this in the drafts until then HAHA once again, this is a repost! if you think you’ve seen it, you probably have :D (it is still my work though of course)
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“IT’S SNOWING!” you hear seungkwan’s voice right before you get tackled by him on the couch, his limbs trapping you underneath him.
you giggle at his excited expression before looking over his shoulder, seeing the white flakes fall outside through the window. “you’re right, it is. the weather report said there was a 80% chance of snow today.”
he gets up, untangling your bodies before pouting at your cool demeanour. “you’re not excited. why are you not excited?”
you shrug before getting up, groaning from the use of your legs after the time you had spent sitting down. “i mean, it’s not like it doesn’t snow every winter.”
seungkwan gasps before putting a hand to his chest, offended. “are you telling me that your first winter with me isn’t important? we haven’t even had a date in the snow yet! or—or literally anything wintery! i can’t believe this. why do i even love you?” he finishes ranting with a huff, turning his body away from you.
you roll your eyes fondly at your tangerine boy before pulling his hand towards you, urging him to look at your face.
“it’s nothing like that kwannie, i promise,” you say before grinning widely. “and you love me because of my amazing sense of humour and just because i’m great, of course.”
he sighs and gives you a fake annoyed expression before smiling mischievously. “so this means you’ll let me take you to the beach so we can have a photoshoot right? yeah,” he says, pulling your arm to the entryway, giving you no choice but to put up with his antics. (you would anyway; it’s him after all.)
“wait…in this?” you look down at your silly moose pyjamas, and at seungkwan’s matching ones before shaking your head. you knew seungkwan didn’t care—he loved to be open about your relationship, and these pyjamas definitely helped that. besides, it’s winter! you would be wearing a jacket on top anyway.
you let seungkwan put your coat on you (not without a little peck on your forehead to let you know he wasn’t actually mad; you knew he never was when he acted like this) and your socks when you struggle before putting on his own winter gear and opening the door. he lets out a low breath before taking your hand and putting it in his pocket, both your hand—and hearts—warm together.
in the car, you clap every time after seungkwan finishes belting out a christmas song from a playlist you had found (how he managed to focus on driving while doing this, you had no idea) and when he parks in the small lot the beach has, you grin, fully excited for your little date.
after your hands reunite in his coat pocket, he takes you to your favourite spot whenever you both went to the beach; a place not too close to the water where you had to worry about getting wet, but also one where you could still see the serene beauty of the ocean clearly.
as you take your phone out of your pocket to take pictures of the icy sea, you hear the sounds of seungkwan’s phone clicking in your direction. when you turn to look at him with a question on your face, he shrugs before saying, “just making sure i take pictures of the best view around here.”
soon enough, your photo taking session comes to an end, and you walk back to your parked car, laughing at a silly picture you took of seungkwan. he takes a look around before running over to a small field nearby covered in fresh snow, before slipping and falling.
“seungkwan?? you okay, honey?” you ask as you run over to his side before your worried expression turns into a deadpan, seeing his pose. he was on his side with his elbow propping up his head, and before you can say anything about how silly he looks, he wiggles his eyebrows. “that was a perfect reenactment of how i fell for you, my pookie dookie snookie pookums.”
before you can shush him and remind him that you’re in public, you hear a loud gasp and a little girl’s voice say, “mommy, look! they’re flirting!” from behind you.
you turn your eyes back to the trail you were walking on with your boyfriend just a few minutes ago, and see a mother cover her young daughter’s eyes from seungkwan’s antics before hurriedly walking away from the scene you two were making.
thankfully, as soon as they leave, there’s no one to see the way you crouch down and smack seungkwan’s shoulder. “what was that for, kwannie?!”
he pouts before sticking out his tongue at you and pulling you down onto the snow beside him. “i was just showing my love for you, my sweetheart plum sugar with two eggs five cups of flour—”
you shut him up with a small peck to his cheek before shooting his lovestruck face a dirty look. “that’s enough out of you now. i’m telling your mother that you embarrass me in public,” you huff, fully knowing that seungkwan’s mother simply adored you.
you giggle when seungkwan makes a sound of indignation and instead peck his cheek again. “fine, fine, i won’t. but…you have to stop using those corny pet names.”
he huffs before sighing dramatically.
“fine. i’ll stop, my five large egg yolks, one and one third cups water…okay i’ll stop,” he finishes off, seeing your face before leaning in to peck your cheek, making you giggle and him smile. “there’s my boo.”
bonus!
in the car, you remember to ask seungkwan something. “what were you even saying? my 2 cups of sugar…was that even an actual recipe?”
he looks at you while fixing his rearview mirror. “yeah, it’s from a recipe for lemon meringue pie.” his neck flushes a bit as he continues, “i was planning to make it for you one day…so it was the first thing i thought of.”
the next day, you wake up to the smell of something burning. you quickly get up and sprint to the kitchen, only to see seungkwan putting something in the trash sheepishly. “…i burnt the pie.”
though it takes a while to get the smell out of your home, and the window needs to be open in the cold weather, you have an excuse to cuddle up with seungkwan in your warmest blanket. (he would anytime you asked anyway; no need for burnt baked goods).
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dinogoofymutated · 2 days
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NSFW! Cable/AFAB!Reader
Alright! Last time this one will be posted lol. Thanks everyone for being patient with me, I know Cable isn't exactly a fan favorite compared to the other characters I write for on this blog, so I appreciate everyone being cool while I've been finishing this :) If you'd rather read the SFW version, You can find it here :) also, This fic has come callbacks to the previous cable fics I've written, So I'd recommend you read/Reread that one first! TWS: MDNI!!! Jealousy, creepy men, we choose the bear and the bear is Cable. Slight miscommunication, but healthy talks happen. PNV sex, fingering, dirty talk. Usage of pet name "pretty girl". Raw sex, wrap it bf u tap it guys.
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    The bar is busier tonight than you’ve ever seen it. It’s humid, stuffy, and overly loud with all the warm bodies packed into the small space. You’ve never been one for crowds, but you know for a fact that Cable is certainly not a people person.
    The two of you had been crammed into a corner booth for about an hour and a half, originally having come to the bar to meet a contact that never ended up showing. Normally, the two of you would have gone home by now. It was your idea to stay and get something to eat, wanting to at least make some good with the newfound downtime. 
    You were comforted by the feeling of Cable’s keen gaze keeping an eye on you as you wove through the crowd, finding your way to the bar. You hold back a smile as you sit down, ordering some drinks for the two of you as you wait on the food. Eventually, you glance back at Cable and find him still staring at you, making eye contact as you send him a smile. You’re not surprised, but you raise a playful eyebrow at him. Cable, ever the protective grump, rolls his eyes at you in response, but you still spot the small smile he gives you when you send him a wink.
    “That beer for me, Beautiful?” The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you don’t even think he’s talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. He’s sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he can’t quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cable’s beer closer.
    “Last time I checked it wasn’t.” You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.
    “Oh c'mon, don’t play hard to get. I’m chill!” You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.
    “Sure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.” You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that he’d at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't. 
    “What Husband?” The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. It’s not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the man’s wrist caught in Cable’s literal iron-clad grip. 
    “This Husband.” Cable grunts. 
    All of the blood drains from the stranger’s face in an instant, but it doesn’t take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cable’s grip, but Cable’s arm doesn’t move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cable’s strength many times, but this… well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.
    “What’s your problem, man?” The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and was getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cable’s shoulder a hard pat as you desperately try to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable is ignoring the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.
    “ -s’ an ugly bitch, anyway.” The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he should’ve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide you’ve definitely stayed past your welcome.
    “Ohhkay. Yeah, let’s go.” You tug on Cable's arm, practically dragging him away at first. You weren’t worried about the drunk, that guy sure as hell wasn’t getting up any time soon. To be honest, you were more concerned with the fact that you could never meet someone in this bar discreetly ever again. Yay. 
    The drive back to today’s apartment is silent, and you’re thinking too much about Cable, honestly. He’s not necessarily talkative himself, arms crossed in the passenger seat as he looks out the window. You send a nervous glance his way. You had called him your husband, and although it felt right in the moment as you tried to get another man off your back, you didn’t think that Cable would actually hear you. And boy, did he hear you. Sure, he responded… like he did. The memory of it almost makes your stomach flutter. Part of you wants to be absolutely delusional and just revel in the fact that he inadvertently called himself your husband, but what if he felt forced into it? What if he only said that so that you wouldn’t be caught in a lie? When you think about it, that had to be it. I mean, he was being overprotective in the first place, but he was just trying to defend you from unwanted attention. God- you just wish you could pull your thoughts together. Pick up the confusion and chuck it out the door.
    You drive on autopilot, and before you know it, you’re already “home”. Nathan splits off from you, going to change probably. The fact that he hasn’t really looked at you yet makes you even more anxious, but to be honest, you probably wouldn’t have noticed if he had. He wasn’t usually affectionate when he was high-strung, and you knew that, but still. You can't seem to let it go.  You’re curled up on the couch when Nathan joins you, fresh out of the shower and already in casual clothes. He gives you a little space as he sits, like he doesn’t want to startle you. He’s still as stoic as ever, but at least he doesn’t look angry. You’re itching to say something, to speak, and he can tell. 
    Nathan could feel your anxiety since the car, and no matter how badly he wanted to know why, he could tell that you needed a moment to get it out. He crosses his arms with a sigh. He didn’t consider himself a jealous man, but when that idiot at the bar started talking to you he just couldn’t stand it. He knows he blew your cover big time with that punch, but there would always be another crusty bar to go to. In all honesty, he was more concerned with your change in attitude. You receded into yourself in-between the bar and the car, and he didn’t want to know if he was the reason why. He wonders if he overstepped.
    “Sorry, by the way.” You finally manage to say. Nathan cocks an eyebrow at you.
    “For what?” He asks. You look away nervously, fiddling with your fingers.
    “For when I called you my husband back there. I know we’re certainty not… well, I was just scrambling and needed something concrete- and calling you my boyfriend felt weird so-” 
    “Take a breath.” You’re surprised as he cuts you off, feeling a little stupid as you try to collect yourself. There was so much you had been through, so much that you had learned how to handle, but this?? Why was it so hard to communicate feelings like this when you normally can communicate with him so easily on the battlefield? He was probably tired of your rambling.
    “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I get it. We wouldn’t have even had a problem if the guy had taken a hint.” Nathan says, pissed off at the thought of the guy putting his hands on you still. You glance at him, a confused look on your face as you lean back on the couch.
    “So…?”
    “So, don’t apologize. It’s not like I actually…” Nathan stops for a moment, and your heart skips a beat. “I didn’t mind it” He finishes.
    “Oh?... Oh.” You say, slightly taken aback. Nathan is flushed red, staring straight ahead as he avoids looking at you.
    “So we’re okay, right?” You ask.
    “Of course we are,” Nate responds immediately, without even thinking. He looks over at you finally, still blushing a little. You relax at that, having a bit of deja vu. You realize that one of you had moved closer during the conversation, and your sides were pressing together. Nathan’s hair is messy, the gell having washed out during his shower. You always liked how fluffy it was like this, and to be honest, you can't help but reach up and run a hand through his hair. He huffs at the action, a ghost of a smile on his face as he rolls his eyes at you, but he doesn’t stop you from doing it. He’s a bit too tall for you to comfortably reach, even sitting down. Your arm is getting a bit tired, but you don’t want to ruin a sweet moment like this one. After a minute of you debating what to do, Nathan sighs and pulls you into his lap. 
    “You think too much.” He says, closing his eyes. He brings one of your hands back up to his hair, encouraging you to keep going. You hadn’t expected the action, almost startled by it. Sure, it wasn't like you had never touched him before, but the two of you… you were still getting the hang of things. New changes, familiar feelings. It felt good to be this close to him, and for once you know that you don’t have to worry about your time together being cut short.
    “Does it bother you?” You ask quietly. “When I think too much?” Nathan hums, hands resting on your waist.
    “...No. You think more than anyone I’ve ever met. Your mind is always running about something or other. Really, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t thinking.” You notice a slight change in his demeanor during his last sentence, but you don’t comment on it. Instead, you find yourself admiring his face. Your hands shift down from his hair, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes, across his cheekbones. Your eyes drift down to his lips, and you can’t help but lean in and kiss him. He’s surprised for a moment, eyes flickering open and then shut as he cups the nape of your neck and kisses you back. You sigh into him, moving to straddle his legs as his left arm tugs you closer to him by your waist. The cold metal chills you through the fabric of your shirt, his thumb idly rubbing against you. 
    Both of you are out of breath when you separate, caught up in the unbreakable connection between the two of you. You look into his pretty brown eyes, and you want to say it. You want to say those little words so badly. But you know you shouldn’t. There was something about saying it that made everything a little too real, that made everything seem a bit too different. You want to say it, but you don't. You know he knows. You know- you hope he feels the same. It’s all you could ever hope.
    “Of course I do,” Nathan whispers, a look so similar to heartbreak on his face. Your eyes widen, once again not realizing his intrusion into your thoughts. Then again, maybe you were just so used to him lingering in the back of your mind that you didn’t notice anymore. You kiss him again. This one is slower, more intimate, more sensual, and he returns it in the same manner. You’re feeling a little sappy, but content just the same. Nathan finds himself in a similar well of emotions, hoping that next time he won't have to remind you for you to know it’s true. 
    Nathan kisses you again, and again. He drags his teeth across your lower lip before smoothing the skin with his tongue. You eagerly open your mouth, goosebumps forming on your skin as he takes the invitation. Both of his hands have moved down to your waist, squeezing the plush skin as the kiss begins to morph into something a little more intense than it originally was. You feel cold fingers start to drift under the fabric of your shirt for a split second before he shifts you to the side.
    Nathan begins to crawl over you, pressing your back onto the couch cushions as he keeps kissing you. He holds himself up with his left arm as the other one begins to slide further underneath your shirt. He’s completely caught up in you and the feeling of you against him. His kisses begin to trail down the side of your neck, and it’s like he knows every sensitive spot by heart. You tangle a hand in his hair again in an entirely different manner than you had done the last time. He shifts his weight so that his other arm has more room to work with. 
    The mood dies a little when your hair gets pinched by something. You let out a yelp of pain, and Nathan immediately recedes from you. You flinch at another tug, realizing that your hair has gotten caught in his metal arm. Nathan is wide-eyed as he leans up, untangling himself from you so that he can carefully tug your hair free. You sit up as he does, rubbing your sore scalp. He raises a hand like he wants to do the same but doesn’t. He makes a sour look at himself and his arm before he begins to lean away from you completely.
    “Sorry, I’ve overstepped,” Nathan says. Your stomach drops to your feet as you scramble to grab a hold of his shirt, keeping him close to you in a bit of an awkward position.
    “No!” You say, a little louder than you intended to. Nathan looks a you, more confused than surprised, like he couldn’t fathom why you were holding onto him, why you wanted him to continue.
     “I… I’m fine with… just-” You’re struggling to say it, flushed beet red at just the thought of what you’re trying to say. Eventually, you huff and give up, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. You tug on it a little, but Nathan doesn’t move.
    “Don’t make me ask, Nate.” You say. His breath hitches. You bite your lip and his eyes catch on the sight. He catches himself before he gets a little too distracted, and glances away for a moment before making a decision.
    “Okay. But we're not doing this on the couch.” Nathan grumbles. He stands, pulling you up with him as he does so, and you can’t stop yourself from tugging him down for yet another kiss. He has to bend down to meet you, a little too tall to kiss you comfortably. It’s not much of a problem though, especially when the man you're kissing is strong enough to lift you into his arms like you're weightless. The kiss only breaks for a second as he lifts you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him as he walks to the bedroom. You realize just how much warmth had begun to pool at the change of position, feeling a wetness between your legs that you wonder if he can feel. 
    You don’t want to distract him as he carries you, but every time you pull away from his kisses he drags you back to him, biting and sucking on your lips in faux annoyance.  It’s like he already has the apartment mapped out in his mind, barely needing to look to navigate through it all. He doesn’t bother closing the bedroom door when he gets there, plopping you down on the bed before he’s crawling over you again, kissing your neck and collarbones as his hands drift underneath your shirt. His hand is rough and calloused compared to the plush skin he finds there, the metal of his other one cold and smooth. You swear it leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 
    You clench your thighs together as he touches you, not quite used to the feeling. It’s been a while since anyone has touched you like this, and you find yourself completely overtaken by Nathan. He nips at the skin of your neck, and you gasp at the feeling. He continues to suck and lick at the spot, and when he’s done, he starts another one. You wonder if the man at the bar would have still approached you if you had been marked up like this before, wearing a purple, tender kind of jewelry that you’d only let Nathan give to you. You try to project the thought on purpose, hoping that he’ll pick it up. You think about everywhere else he could mark you, and Nathan curses as he sees the images in his mind as clearly as they appear in yours, a hand thumbing at your bra before it slides under you to unclip it.
    Nathan leans back as he takes your shirt off, the bra coming with it. You try not to shy up as he openly admires your breasts, watching as your nipple pebbles when he brings his cool left hand up to caress the skin. His eyes catch your own as he leans down to your chest, kissing a trail from your collarbones to the peak of your left breast. He sucks and nips at the soft, squishy skin, taking the nipple into his mouth after he had his fill. You let out a small noise of pleasure, gasping at the feeling of his tongue against the sensitive nub as his other hand lovingly caresses the other.
    Your hands wander up and down the expanse of his back, sliding under his pajama shirt. Nathan shudders as you gingerly slide your fingers over his scars, and the torn skin that marks the difference between man and machine. Your fingers follow the seam of scarring delicately, caressing the skin. You feel how his skin prickles, and wonder about the extent of his sensitivities before he nips a little harshly at your nipple to catch your attention. You wince at the feeling before he smoothes it over with his tongue. He kisses your breast one last time before he moves back to your lips. 
   You lean into the kiss with a hum, inviting him inside of your mouth as his hands trail down to your waistband. His thumbs hook underneath the fabric before he starts to pull it off of you, underwear included. He breaks from the kiss, wiping the trail of spit that connects your mouths. He leans back onto his knees, kissing down your stomach as he slides your pants off completely. His shirt is next to go, revealing the strong muscles that lie underneath. Your eyes trail down to the bulge in his pants, a certain kind of warmth forming in your chest as you realize that every part of him is intimidating. You feel yourself clench at the thought, spreading your legs shyly, inviting him to touch you where you want him the most.
    It’s like something in Nathan's snaps as he takes in the sight of you. Your flushed face, heaving chest. The marks he’s left across your upper body.
    “Fuck.” He practically growls as he grabs ahold of your thighs, dragging your core flush to his hips and grinding into you smoothly. You can’t help but moan in both pleasure and surprise at the sensation of his soft pajama pants pressing into your bare lips. He feels good against you, his hardness hot and aching to be inside of your warmth.
    “Please,” You gasp. “Please, Nate. I need you.” He curses again at the sound of your voice, his hips jerking into your own. 
    “Not yet. Beautiful.” He rumbles, Struggling to pull himself away from the steady grind. “-Can’t yet. Don’t want to hurt you.” You whine when he stops moving, and he leans forward to kiss you. You twitch at the feeling of his thick fingers sliding through your folds, collecting the wetness he finds there. Nathan groans, knowing just how much you want him from that simple action. He teases you, sliding the pads of his fingers down from your clit to the slit below it, circling your entrance before doing it all over again. You don’t have to say a word for Nathan to know you’re complaining. He chuckles at you, before slipping a finger inside.
    It’s thick. You knew it would be, but feeling it was entirely different. You break from the kiss with a moan as he curls the finger and catches that spongey spot inside of you. He moves his kisses to your cheek, and the spot below your ear as he has one arm keep your hips from jerking. He’s slow and thorough as he prepares you, a second finger sliding in with ease when he deems you ready for it. You knew he was good with his hands, but this was giving you a whole new definition of the phrase. The wet noises coming from you are almost embarrassing as he fingers you, hand absolutely soaked from your wetness already. He uses his other hand to start rubbing your clit, and the pleasure almost becomes too much.
    “Nathan.” You whimper his name, pleading with him. You needed him, badly. You didn’t want to cum yet, not without him inside of you, not without hearing his low groans and moans as you take him exactly like you were meant to. You clench around his fingers at the thought, and he hums as he pulls them away. 
    He pulls you up, switching the position so that you’re on top of him. You don’t hide the fact that you’re watching him as he finally takes off his pants, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen as it slips out of the waistband. You wait till he’s fully kicked them off before you begin to stroke him, twisting your hand at the head of his cock. He groans out your name, and another plume of fire lights inside of you as he does so. You really liked how that sounded, falling from his lips. 
    He’s just as thick as you thought he would be. Your hand can't wrap fully around him, red and straining. His cock twitches as you run your thumb across the slit, collecting the precum that was beading there. You're addicted to the noises falling from his mouth, giving him a slight squeeze to hear him moan again. 
    Nathan grabs your wrist gently when he's had enough, face flushed and breathing heavily. He helps you angle your hips over him, lining himself up with your slit. The head of his cock notches against you, and both of you want so desperately for him to be inside. There's a quiet - schlick- as he slides through that first ring of muscle, both of you moaning at the feeling.
    You take it slow while you're taking him in, circling your hips as You lower yourself down slowly. Fuck- this feels so much better than his fingers. You rest your head against his chest as you struggle to take him, even as wet as you are.
    His hands comfortingly slide up and down your thighs when he bottoms out. You take a moment to collect yourself, feeling a slight pinch with how deeply he fit inside of you. Nathan gives you time, pulling you into another breath taking kiss as you adjust.
    When you're comfortable, you begin gently rocking your hips against his own, feeling Nathan sigh against you. You're grinding your clit against his pelvis each time you rock, enjoying the added pressure against your sweet spot. You begin to work yourself into a pace, reveling in Nathan's groans as you bounce on top of him. 
    His cock is hitting all the right spots inside of you, his hands now gripping the flesh of your ass as he thrusts up into you with each stroke of your hips. He feels so unbelievably good, hot and heavy inside of you. 
    You desperately try to keep up as his thrusts pick up the pace, wanting all of him and more. But your thighs were staring to get sore, and your knees aching from the position. You tuck your head into the crook of Nathan’s neck, balancing yourself on him as a means to catch up, but you just can't. You slow your hips, catching your breath as Nathan continues to trust his hips. He's trying his best to slow down for you, absolutely lost in the feeling of your soft skin and wet cunt.
  “Come on, pretty girl. You can do better than that.” Nate says, making you moan in surprise as he gives you a particularly sharp thrust. You shake your head, pleading with him to just roll you over, take you at whatever speed he would like. He's hesitant at first but you're kissing his neck, nipping and sucking at a spot he doesn't remember being so sensitive.
    “Please, Nate.” You whisper into his ear, and he shivers, body stiffening under you. “Please,” 
    In less than a second, you're under him, legs on top of his shoulders as he thrusts into you wildly. His eyes are hooded, gazing at you lustfully as your breasts bounce with every movement. The sound of skin slapping on skin is loud and pornographic as his balls slap against you with his thrusts, the grunts and moans coming from the both of you not much better.
    Nathan brings a hand down to rub at your clit as his hips begin to stutter, closing in on his pleasure. Your hips jerk as he does so, quickly reaching that peak of white-hot pleasure yourself. He moans your name as your inner walls clench, back arching as you get closer- closer- so close-
    You call out for him when you cum, his hands holding you still by your hips as he ruthlessly fights to reach that peak of pleasure. You're clenching around him as you ride out your orgasm, and it's almost too much.
    Nathan pulls out of you when he cums, sticky streams of white splattering on your stomach. He grinds himself against you a few more times, coming down from the pleasure. Your legs have gone limp against him, boneless as you pant and tremble beneath him. Nathan kisses the inside of your ankles before he eases them down. 
    He leans above you, kissing you tenderly as he cleans you up with his shirt, having dragged the clothing into his hands with his telekinesis. When he's done thoroughly wiping you down, he falls beside you. He rolls you onto his side as he holds you tightly. He's pleasantly exhausted, looking at you in a way that you've never seen before. 
    His large hand comes up to rest against your neck, thumb running over the tender spots on your skin. You make a bit of a face at the soreness.
    “Those are definitely gonna bruise, aren't they?” You ask, somewhat weary of the marks now that the sexy excitement has worn off. Nate huffs a laugh.
    “Yeah.” He affirms. You pout at him as he brushes the hair out of your face, sighing in exasperation. To be honest, you didn’t mind it too much. Certainly not enough to be mad at him for it. 
    “Did you mean what you said earlier?” You ask, closing your eyes as you snuggle into him. Nathan’s hand rubs your back soothingly as you start to drift off.
    “Hm?”
    “Did you mean it. When you said you didn’t mind me calling you my husband.” Nathan is silent for a moment. You don’t quite have the energy to read into it like you would have before, but you're relieved when he speaks up.
    “...yeah” You smile at his answer, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest as you begin to fall asleep, content and wrapped in his arms.
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floral-hex · 21 hours
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me… sad boy
#I was going to whine a lot but why lot word when few word do trick?#I have been… soooooo anxious and depressed and I feel like I’m going to die soon & the world is ending the world is empty & I’m alone in it#I feel so sick#I need to get out and do something. I always need to get out and I never do and I’m dumb#so maybe I’ll just get messed up and stay in my room#I can’t sleep. I wake up tired and hurting. I can’t do anything.#woe is fucking me amirite?#also I just finished Black Sails and I cried a lot. why did I think getting emotionally attached to a show and finishing it was smart?#that’s not important. I mean it is but not really. what’s important is I constantly feel like the end is always looming over me#I miss my therapist but I’m scared to ever see him again.#same reason I’m scared to be around anyone outside of my immediate family: I’m a failure & I can’t bear to see that reflected in their eyes#so he joins a long list of people I can’t talk to anyone along with my dad and countless old friends#hey wait why did I segue to this?#boo hoo#analytically. logically. I can look past this and see how irrational these thoughts are#but goddamn if there’s not something chemical that just makes me feel sick and scared and I’m having a doozy of a time living with it#because Ian you need to work on long term goals. not just quick fixes like I dunno fucking eating pizza or playing video games#sorry. just wanted to vent. it’s been building up in me for days and I needed a quick whine#I shaved. I’m gonna get a haircut maybe tomorrow. if only to stave off my unhealthy feelings of ‘just shave your head at 3am’#my mom is finally reaching the point where she doesn’t need me to chauffeur her around all the time#and my brothers are finishing their semesters at school and also both have licenses now#so I think I can stop using those as excuses and try to… I dunno. live for myself now. that sounds cheesy.#gonna go get a low paying job doing something mindless so I can have extra cash for being alive#god I need a hug so bad#that’s not even… like… not even a lighthearted joke. I think if someone sincerely held me for a few minutes it would fix me. a little bit.#this is too much information#sorry I love you goodbye forever#but hey… really… I love ya… I mean maybe. not really. kind of. I appreciate ya and I’m here for ya… in spirit. like a ghost. a cool ghost.#you can ignore this#text
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j-esbian · 2 months
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i keep finding Lore Discrepancies and i’m like. boy i hope they explain this one, but judging from the number of mistakes the game has already made, idk if they’re ever going to address it!
#the gith artifact teleports but uhh dw about it. it just likes you :) the quest log records things that never happened:)#not to keep being cinemasins but literally all i can focus on are the holes#how is volo still alive. why is jahiera a harper again#he was in the original games ~120 years ago and he’s human right#i mean. so was elminster who i think is also human but. wizard privilege. i can accept that he’s immortal#volo. researching one of his little stories. stumbles onto the secret of immortality#his page on the bg3 wiki doesn’t even address it lmao#tbh that doesn’t bother me as much. you can handwave that one. but#i JUST met jahiera and she just gave a flippant ‘oh the stories they told aren’t all true’#which is probably the closest i’m gonna get to an answer lol. but time will tell#it’s just very weird if their canon is Heroic Bhaalspawn Route bc imo. following that track for her personal quest means she leaves#if you’re a dick she’ll leave your party and rejoin the harpers but otherwise#they’re meant to be unreasonable bc the harpers that catch up with you don’t care about what you’ve done. just that you’re bhaalspawn#so if you’re playing a good guy. she will side with you??#and leave the harpers???#got me thinking that maybe i never finished that quest and there’s a secret ending where everyone is cool actually :)#tbh that kind of. sucks lol. just putting characters in for the cameo rather than. where it makes sense#i’ve heard they explain how minsc is still alive and i can’t WAIT to see that one#mine#baldur's gate
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jamespotterismydaddy · 4 months
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When Nobody's Around
luke castellan x reader
capture the flag pt 2!
A/N: not me keeping my promises and posting three days in a row
TW: so much smut omg, throat-fucking, pussy slapping, cockwarming, overstim
word count: 1,225 words
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After what happened with Luke the other day, you need to do something to cool off, to get your mind off of it. Training is the perfect thing. You make your way down to the grounds with Clarisse. Your half-sister is the perfect person to train with because she fights so hard that it gives you no chance to think.
“Fuck.” You murmur. You’re already there when you realize you forgot something. “I have to go back for my sneakers.” 
“Don’t take too long, dumbass.” She smirks and you roll your eyes before jogging back to your cabin. It’s so weird because you could’ve sworn on your life that you had brought them.
You shake off the feeling and open the cabin door. There shouldn’t be anyone inside, all your siblings are training and whatnot. There shouldn’t be anyone in there, especially not  Luke Castellan who is sitting on your bed, holding your sneakers.
What. The. Fuck.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states, giving you an easygoing grin.
“Get out of my cabin.”
“No.”
“Not only are you not meant to be in here, I also don’t want you here.” Your voice is angry as you walk towards him.
“I think you do.”
You scoff. “Stop acting like you know me.” 
He gives you a sly smile. “But I do know you… very intimately.”
“If you’re here for another hookup, it’s not going to happen.” You say adamantly.
He stands up, walking towards you. You hate the way he towers over your smaller body. “I’m actually here to apologize.” 
“Apologize?” You ask doubtingly, not really thinking he was the type.
“Yeah.” His hands fall to your waist. You don’t shove him off right away, waiting to see where this all goes. “I was very rough with you before.” His hand slides up to hold your chin, thumbing your lip. “Maybe I wanted to be more gentle this time? Get down on my knees and eat you nice and slow.”
“I can’t stand you.” You breathe out as his hand ghosts down, rubbing over your breast.
“You’re such a damn brat.” He gives you a squeeze. “I thought I fucked that out of you last time but apparently not.”
You want to come up with some clever retort but all you can do is whimper in response.
“Now, how about you get on your knees and if you suck me well enough maybe, just maybe, i’ll get you off.”
You drop to your knees. You hate to admit it but you like the way he talks to you. No other guy has enough confidence to try and put you in your place.
“What a submissive little slut.” He coos as he grips your hair with one hand.
“I’ll bite your cock off.” You say as you unzip his jeans, tugging them down.
“We both know that would be more of a loss for you than me.” He chuckles at how your eyes widen when he pulls his dick out. He may have been inside of you but you never actually saw how big he is. “Suck it.”
You glare but take him in your mouth as far back as you can. You gag when the tip of him touches the back of your throat.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on my cock.” He murmurs as he begins to thrust into your mouth languidly. Your eyes water as you try to suck him off but it’s more like being throat-fucked instead with the way he grips your hair to pull your head back and forth. He gives a little slap to your cheek. “No teeth.” He warns as he continues to use your mouth like he pleases.
You’re surprised when he pulls out before finishing. “You can swallow my cum another time. I plan on keeping my promises.”
When you’re on your feet, Luke pulls you into a kiss. He taps your ass once so you jump, letting him hold you as he walks you back to your bed. He parts his lips from yours, placing you down so you sit on the edge of your bed.
“It’s your turn to get on your knees.” You say cheekily.
“Don’t go acting like you’re in charge.” He says but kneels anyhow. “I’m not opposed to giving that ass a few more smacks.” You shift a bit at the comment as he pulls off your pants. “Oh, maybe you’d like that.”
“I wouldn’t.” You lie as he yanks down your panties, revealing how wet you are.
“No?” He asks, amused before laying a harsh smack to your cunt. You drip out more arousal. “Liar.” He murmurs before digging in.
His hands hold tight to your thighs as he buries his face in your cunt. It’s stimulating too much and just the right amount all at once. You begin to whine and try to squirm away but he keeps you firmly in place with his strong hands as he laps up your arousal.
“Better than fucking ambrosia.” He looks up, grinning like a devil before nipping at your clit. Your hand is in his hair now, pulling tightly as you’re so close… so close and then… he stops.
“Luuuke…” You whine in frustration.
“Sorry, baby but you’re gonna cum around my cock.”
He picks you up like you weigh nothing and throws you back further on the bed before shifting his body between your legs. He uses his dick to tease your clit and you whimper.
“Please, Luke.” You beg, looking at him with doe eyes.
“Look at you, so pretty as you beg to be fucked. I’ll give you what you want.” His words are so lewd but his voice is so gentle.
He slips himself inside of you in one go, once again not caring about you adjusting. Though, he exercises a bit more restraint this time, not moving quite yet. He at least wants you to be able to walk somewhat well after this. He leans down to kiss your neck, leaving love bites that you'll have to explain later before he actually starts to give you what you need. He begins to thrust, trying to avoid acting like a rabid dog even if he knows you like it.
“You’re so fucking tight. Never had such a tiny little pussy before.” The way you squeeze around him has him throwing all decorum out the window. He begins to fuck into you like this is the last chance he’ll get.
“Mmm Luke, harder.” You beg.
“Fucking slut.” He says with a grin before slinging your leg over his shoulder so he can piston into you deeper.
“Want you… to cum… inside.” The words have him going feral. He uses his thumb to rub your clit, making you spasm under him.
“Is that all it takes? Barely even had to touch your sweet pearl.” You cream around his cock and he fucks you through it. The overstimulation has you seeing stars but after a few moments, his thrusts finally begin to slow. He stills and you feel his hot cum spurt into you, filling you to the brim until it spills out.
He slumps down on you, pressing tired kisses to your collarbone as he lets you cockwarm him.
“Want me to go?” He asks. 
It should be an easy answer. You should say yes.
“No… stay.” 
And he smiles.
taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi
Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread
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tteokdoroki · 10 months
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.
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about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.
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“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”
after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.
“hah?”
you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.
katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.
not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.
you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.
just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.
katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.
“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.
shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”
“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.
bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.
freaking tease.
it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”
“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”
“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”
“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.
you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”
you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.
this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“
“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.
“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.
bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”
he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.
“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.
a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.
every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.
you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.
“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.
he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”
“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”
katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.
“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”
“oh…oh fuck you.”
“‘m trying babe.”
“fuck you. slut.”
“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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prythianpages · 1 month
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Be Safe | Azriel x Reader
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summary: you are on your way to Day Court when Azriel stops you. After the two of you fall victim to Cassian's and Mor's teasing, Azriel realizes why he can't just let you go.
warnings: fluff and a hint of suggestiveness at the beginning
note: I saw this tiktok and decided to write it into a little scenario because I loved it so much.
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“Oh, you’re going to love the Day Court,” Mor purrs with a grin. “And it’s High Lord. Helion…let’s just say his pegasus isn’t the only thing you’ll want to ri–”
“Oookay.” Cassian chimes in with a chuckle, placing his hand over Mor’s mouth to keep her from finishing her sentence. “Settle down, Mor. We don’t want her to love it too much!” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll come back,” you respond and then laugh as Mor bites Cassian’s hand. "Besides, Rhys will be there and he’s, you know, my boss. This trip is purely professional.”
The three of you stand in the foyer of the town house, Cassian cradling his hand to his chest with a pointed look at Mor, who merely rolls her eyes. You were heading for Day Court, where Rhysand already waited for you. Cassian and Mor had stopped you, insisting on wishing you well before leaving, even though your mission was amicable. The only danger you could possibly encounter on your trip, it seems, would be Helion’s chambers. A welcomed danger, if Mor’s insinuations were to hold truth.
“I should go now. I told Rhys I would be there within the next half hour almost an hour ago.”
As you gaze at your friends, a subtle ache tugs at your heartstrings, a silent yearning for another’s presence. Though you know he's currently engaged in a mission, you can't help but wish he were here beside you too. 
You turn away from your friends, preparing to winnow to the Day Court. It's as though the Cauldron itself heard your unspoken longing. Just as you're about to step forward, a hand emerges from the depths of the shadows, halting you in your tracks with a gentle yet firm touch.
You turn back around, watching as the darkness seems to part for him, revealing those warm hazel eyes that could pierce through the darkest of nights. “Azriel,” you greet in pleasant surprise.
His eyes lock onto yours and you suddenly find it hard to breathe. “Be safe,” he murmurs, his voice deep yet sweet like honey. The way he looks at you, full of concern and something else you can’t quite discern at the moment, sends a delightful warmth seeping into your heart. 
Azriel’s gaze flickers down toward your intertwined hands and you notice the subtle tension that comes from his scarred hands before he abruptly lets yours go. It’s a moment of vulnerability that makes your chest ache. You want to reach out for his hands again but he comes to stand by your side instead.
His arm brushes against yours. The dark tendrils dancing around his shoulders revel in your proximity, slithering down his arm and coiling around you in a cool embrace. You welcome his shadows, smiling softly when you feel them tug you closer to their master, deliberately enchanting you with the scent of cedar and night chilled mist. It’s as if they don’t want you to leave his side.
“I will,” you finally respond, your voice a mere whisper as you look up at him
Azriel’s gaze softens. The tension between you dissipates into something lighter, something magical. The world around seems to fade into darkness, leaving only the two of you suspended in a moment that feels both infinite and fleeting. No words are spoken yet so much is said.
Meanwhile, Cassian and Mor exchange a knowing look of their own. The mutual crushing between you and Azriel has been evident to everyone for years. Well, everyone, except for you and Azriel. Mor and Cassian will give you grace, as Azriel can be unreadable at times. But Azriel? The spymaster of the Night Court? How he cannot see your unmistakable crush on him is beyond them.
“Be safe,” Cassian says, mocking Azriel’s tone.There’s a mischievous gleam in his hazel orbs as he gazes down at Mor, pouting his lips in an exaggerated manner. 
Mor’s eyes light up, mirroring Cassian’s mischief. She leans in toward Cassian’s shoulder–the very same way you’re doing with Azriel. Except, she wraps her arms around Cassian’s larger one, resting her head on his chest. “I’ll be so safe,” she cooes, voice like velvet.
Azriel feels the heat rising to his neck. He turns to Cassian and Mor, gaze darkening with an icy glare. “Stop,” he warns but it only encourages the two further.
They continue to hug each other and make kissing sounds. A blush creeps up your cheeks and you seek solace in Azriel’s arm, burying your face against it. Azriel’s wing instinctively curls around your form in a protective manner. Were you being that obvious? Your answer is immediately given as your hands gravitate towards each other once more.
 “Stop it! Or I’m going to kill you!”
Cassian pulls Mor even closer. His brows furrow, softening his expression as he directs his pout toward Azriel. “But how would that keep us safe?”
None of you will be safe if you keep delaying y/n. Helion does not like to be kept waiting, echoes an all too familiar voice–Rhys’s– through your minds. He leaves your mind as quickly as he entered it, lingering only in Azriel’s long enough to add: Let her go.
Azriel blinks, not realizing that throughout the teasing, his fingers had intertwined with yours. He turns his attention back to you, reluctantly releasing your hand. A sheepish expression takes over his features as he brings the hand that had been holding yours to rub the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t help but worry when you’re not home,” Azriel admits quietly.
Mor and Cassian both let out a sound that Azriel is quick to stifle with his shadows. 
“It’s only for a week,” you assure him as you open the door and step outside. You feel a flicker of anticipation tingling in your veins as you prepare to winnow. You turn back to face Azriel and your friends one more time.
“Don’t miss me too much, okay?”
But I miss you already, Azriel thinks as he feels a strange stirring awakening deep in his chest. His shadows buzz around him in excitement. 
“Bye, y/n. Have fun but not too much fun!” Cassian calls out to you in mock warning over Azriel’s right shoulder.
Mor peeks out from Azriel’s left shoulder and winks at you. “But if you do find yourself having too much fun, call for me, okay?” 
“Sure,” you agree and Azriel fails to notice the reciprocated teasing in your tone.
He’s too busy glancing between Cassian and Mor, hazel eyes wary. His shadows whisper to him, confirming the suggestiveness of their words. Uneasiness settles into his stomach, causing his entire body to tense up.
He’s familiar with the flirtatious nature of the High Lord of the Day Court. Too familiar that he can already dreadfully anticipate the sweet words Helion will shower you with. His shadows stir, excitement morphing into panic. What if you fall victim to Helion’s charm?
Suddenly, he hates the idea of you going to Day. 
As your gazes meet once more, an unseen force seems to settle into place. His eyes widen in realization, his mouth parting to utter your name, but it’s too late. You’re already winnowing away and he lurches forward, after you, pulled by the golden threads that have wildly unfurled within his chest.
Mate. You're his mate.
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note: I did not know how to end this so please don't come for me for ending it like this lol. Just know that Az is winnowing away to join you in Day Court right after. I hope you enjoyed! <3
general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria
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ponderingmoonlight · 2 months
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Ryomen Sukuna getting on his knees for his wife
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Pairing: Sukuna x wife!reader
Word Count: 1,2k
Synopsis: For more than 500 years, you waited for your husband's return. When he finally shows himself again in Shibuya, he can't help but worship his wife the way she deserves it
Warnings: no smut but this is a tease y'all, language, violence, Jogo (lmao), this is just Sukuna hehe
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You can’t help but smile to yourself, the intoxicating smell of death and agony filling you with nothing but joy. Oh, how much you long to finally see your husband again, to feel his arms wrapped around your body. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? A few hundred years, maybe more. They were too keen to keep him from finding a new vessel, to come back into your open arms. But you’ve waited.
A huff escapes your lips. And now is finally the time to greet him again.
Without gifting them a single look, you walk past all those disgusting humans begging for their lives, the floor plastered in crimson. Is he responsible for this?
“Such a mess”, you mutter to yourself, a shiver of excitement running down your spine.
It has to be him, without any doubt. When you heard about his awakening, felt the fear that ran through the jujutsu community, you knew it was Sukuna. Good that brat decided to swallow his fingers you preserved so carefully for this exact moment.
You stroll into the train station of Shibuya that radiates so much unpromising energy that it’s hard to keep your cool composure. Where is he? What is he doing? Surely, he has a masterplan in his head already. But where is he?
“You.”
With a swift motion, you pin the strongest curse nearby against a wall, staring right into his widen eye.
You. Jogo has no idea who you are and where you came from. But he didn’t feel your presence until know, wasn’t even able to see you with your movements being so fast. Are you a special grade curse?
No, you have to be way above that level – way above him.
“Who are you?”
“You’re not in the position to ask questions. Where’s Sukuna?”
That threatening tone in your voice along with the sheer power you radiate. You…You…
Are you the queen of curses, Sukuna’s wife?
“I’m…I’m searching for him as well.”
It’s a miracle Jogo was able to press out a response, given the way your eyes are darted towards him. There were always rumours about your existence, that the king of curses himself has in fact a wife. But no one ever saw you, no one really believes that someone like him would fall for something pathetic like love.
“Then go ahead. I’m waiting.”
But oh he does. Your sheer presence is proof alone. His feet carry him down the hallways of Shibuya train station by themselves, the frightening sound of your sky-high heels against the floor sending shivers down his spine in waterfalls. One wrong movement, one unthoughtful word, one change of mind and he’s dead. Wiped from this earth forever with a swift motion of your little finger.
“Why are you searching for him, curse?”
Jogo swallows hard, thick fear running through his veins. What is he supposed to do? Lying? No, the chance of you knowing immediately is too high. He can’t afford your resentment.
“I would like to ask him to fight on our side.”
A cruel laughter escapes your lips before he even finished his sentence, cold eyes glaring at the back of his head.
“Listen sweetheart, Sukuna doesn’t do things like favours. But you know what? If you manage to find him, I’ll talk to him about this. After all, you’re here to kill these jujutsu sorcerers, right?”
He doesn’t reply when it hits you with full force. The stinging presence you missed so much these last decades, the unpromising change in the air. You and the curse in front of you stop in your tracks at the same time, eyes darting towards two girls who kneel on the ground.
Above a pink-haired boy, feeding him fingers.
His fingers.
Finally.
“Get away from my husband, girls. He’s already taken.”
A little movement of your fingers is enough to shoot them right into the next wall while you make your way to the puny figure leaning against the wall.
“Take care of them, curse. I need to look after my husband.”
Your usual composed heart almost beats out of your chest when you come near him, the power vibrating through his body becoming stronger and stronger every second. This is it, the moment you’ve been waiting for.
“Wake up, Mr. Drama. Your wife missed you”, you purr while placing your hand around his delicate neck.
Oh, the way his blood pumps through his veins, the feeling of his useless heartbeat against your tingling fingertips.
“I’m getting impatient, Sukuna.”
Your nails dig into his tender flesh until a trail of blood runs down his neck.
“So impatient…”
Suddenly, you find yourself pressed against the wall Sukuna was laying against just a moment ago, a hand wrapped around your neck.
And then you meet his eyes. The stone-cold red eyes that already caused so much pain, eyes that make every human cry out in sheer panic.
The eyes you longed for every lonely night.
“But I will forgive you. After all, I was gone for quite some time. Right, princess?”
“I’m not your princess”, you mumble against the force of his hand.
Your wrap your longing arms around his neck, pull him even closer, let him choke you even harder. Oh, you want to swallow him whole, want to feel him as close as possible. With a swift motion, you tear away the fabric that hides his upper body from your gaze.
“I’m your queen.”
Sukuna doesn’t waste another minute. His lips find yours. Longingly, passionate, so intense that you threaten to lose balance. His tongue re-discovers your mouth all over again, teeth nibbling on your lips so roughly that blood spills.
“Oh, how much I missed you”, he mumbles against your lips.
His hands roam around your body, hold your waist in place while he gets lost against your intoxicating mouth. The mouth he thought about all this time, the mouth that is capable of doing way more than talking.
“How much I longed to see you again.”
The king of curses gets on his knees, presses his head against your belly, cups your butt with his needy hands.
“Let me worship every inch of your body.”
“Just like you should for keeping me waiting”, you breathe out, a satisfied smile decorating your puffy lips.
“I will make it up to you, darling. When I’m done here, I’m all yours again”, he promises with low voice, still kneeling in front of you.
The world around you goes silent, both girls and Jogo staring at the scene in front of them in sheer disbelief. Is this the king of curses, kneeling in front of a woman and apologizing? This is absolutely impossible, almost absurd.
“You’re always mine, Sukuna”, you reply before pulling him up and getting a taste of him all over again.
“But before that, we should kill everyone around here, am I right?”
His breath caresses your cheek in sheer excitement, eyes soaking you up.
“That’s my wife.”
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Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee  @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru
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atyourmerci · 15 days
Text
Dom!abby cockwarming you during a scary movie ☽
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CW: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, sub!reader, cockwarming obv, hair pulling, little degradation, spit??, sleeping with fingers inside, no y/n, no pdor
A/N: is this me procrastinating a full fic or me missing Halloween you pick your fighter!
☽ ☽
She knew you hated scary movies, she knew you’d get so freaked you’d jump into her lap and shove your face in her neck to avoid any jumpscares.
What you didn’t know was that the entire time she was strapped underneath her baggy grey sweatpants. Her clit throbbing in anticipation as you inch closer to her slowly.
She just wanted to make you feel safe, and how much safer could you get with her six inches deep into your cunt?
You were practically already on top of her, legs splayed over her muscly thighs, head nudged into crease of her neck, and eyes barely peering at the screen, hidden by the golden pieces of hair that framed her face.
She was so close to picking you up and moving you there herself, she couldn’t even focus on the movie, gawking at your bare thighs. She couldn’t wait to have you whining on top of her cock.
One last jump scare and you were done, crawling up onto her lap in search of comfort, little did you know you it would only get worse.
She giggles as you realize the destiny she set out for you. Widening your mouth at the realization and staring at her shit eating grin.
“Abs you- are you-“ before you can even finish she’s gripping the back of your neck to pull you into her open mouth, using her free hand to shift you into a straddle.
You can’t help but to grind onto the bulge over her sweats, moaning into her mouth. She takes the opportunity in stride to watch how pathetic you already are, “let’s make a deal-“ she says shoving her hand down your pajama shorts to drag agonizingly slow circles at your clit, “you’re gonna wrap this needy little cunt around my cock for the rest of the movie, and if you can finish it, I’ll let you cum.”
You whine at her proposal, just wanting to throw out the movie completely and let her split you open already. “B-but what if I can’t,” you pout.
She removes her hand to shimmy down her sweats just enough that the plastic cock springs out. Gripping into your thighs she turns you around to face the screen. She pulls the thin cloth of your pajama shorts to the side and guides you onto the strap, following a guttural plea pulled from your throat.
She pulls you gently by the hair so your back is flesh with her chest, “then I’ll sleep inside of you tonight,” she finishes her deal.
You whine at the sensation, the threat, and the desire to bounce on her cock without her permission. She loved doing this to you- seeing how needy you’d get for her to move.
But you knew your consequences, if you moved without her permission she’d just edge you over and over again, ruining every orgasm she was nice enough to bring you close to, but mean enough to never let you finish.
You were being so good, now that you were focused on her cock stuffing you full you, the movie wasn’t bothering you. You tried not making any noises knowing she’s get bored and thrust into you for her own amusement.
Your teeth were breaking the skin of your lip as she gripped into your hips and pulled you back harshly onto the plastic once. Almost drawing blood into the palms of your hands from your fingernails you try not to break. Thank god it wasn’t a real dick because you could feel yourself pulsing around the plastic.
She leans back into the shell of your ear, “you can play cool all you want, you’re soaking my fucking cock,” she says driving another thrust into you.
This time you can’t help but let out the whine pent up inside you, “awh there’s my slut, tell me how bad you need it,” abby coos.
“Please abs- please, I need you,” you beg as she lets out pleased sighs. This is exactly what she wanted, breaking you into a desperate mess on her cock, begging for friction.
“Be a good girl and suck on my fingers,” abby says, placing her two fingers at the entrance of your mouth, waiting for you to take the initiation.
Which you do, rolling and lapping your tongue around her thick fingers, knowing exactly what I’d get you in return.
Once she was pleased she removed them, taking them back to her own mouth, shooting her own spit on them and wrapping her forearm around your hip to rub circles on your swollen clit.
“Now show me how badly you need it,” a relieved sigh leaves your mouth at her approval. This is her way of showing you can finally use her cock to please yourself.
Bouncing up and down onto the soaking plastic as she shows no remorse on your clit. Even after you come, until the movie is over you have to keep her inside of you. She gives you a moment to regroup after an orgasm since you were good, but when she’s ready for another one she thrusts back in to signal you to start again.
She was nice this time, letting you sleep with her two fingers nuzzled into your cunt instead of the strap. 
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satorhime · 1 year
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. ・。・ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ・。・ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;
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satoru is having a damn good day.
it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.
but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.
and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.
the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.
it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.
he would do anything to please his girls, after all.
“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.
“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”
“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”
“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”
“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”
“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”
but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.
“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.
oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.
it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.
“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”
“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.
“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.
“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.
“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.
ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.
whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.
“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”
“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.
“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.
satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.
“what ya got there, princess?”
“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”
“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”
“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”
“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.
“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.
“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”
“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.
“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.
“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.
you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.
“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”
“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.
but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—
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“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.
october 30, 2018
the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.
four, no, five years?
his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.
while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—
“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”
“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.
“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—
“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”
“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.
or at least, that’s what he tells himself.
“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”
he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.
“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”
“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”
“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”
“why? i don’t want to.”
your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.
“huh, that’s new.”
“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”
“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.
“do you need me?”
“what, you think i can’t handle her?”
“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”
he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.
her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.
he has to rip his gaze away.
“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”
“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”
“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”
“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.
you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.
“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”
she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.
“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.
“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”
“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”
satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”
“okinawa.”
“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”
a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.
time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.
you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”
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eddiesxangel · 5 months
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Just A Pinch |Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: you get your nipples pierced and surprise Eddie. Requested by @jordynyingling0219 🤗.
Cw: smut 18+ minors go away. Nipple play (obviously), eddie worships your tits, Boob job, dirty talk, pet names, fingering.
Not having Eddie touching yours boobs for about a month was one of the hardest things you had to avoid when you came up with your little plan to surprise him with new nipple piercings. He was always at you, holding your boobs even if it wasn’t for anything sexual. He just found them conforming.
So when you jerked your body away the first time he reached for you he thought you were mad at him. He wracked his brain for anything that he could have done to piss you off, however he came up empty… He bought you apology flowers just to be safe. Your heart yearned for him, you hated that he thought he had done something wrong. You promised you weren’t mad of him but you still didn’t let him touch your soar sensitive nipples regardless. You were sticking with the plan because you knew the reaction would be so worth it.
The second week you had sex but refused to let him see or touch them again. You blamed PMS and said they were too sensitive to be played with this week. Eddie let it go in the moment because he was so deep in your pussy to care. In the back of his mind he was still unsure what your deal was.
The third week you had actually gotten your period so he knew to back off. He knew your breast were so sensitive this time of month so he didn’t even think about it.
The fourth week you were gnawing at the bit to show him. You were so close to the finish line. You had been so regimented with your daily cleaning, and the swelling and soreness had finally subsided, that on the Friday you decided it had been enough time to let Eddie have his way with your tits.
“Baby! I need your help!” You fake cried as you lay completely naked on the bed.
You hear the frantic footsteps of your boyfriend come down the hall to your shared bedroom and you can’t help but giggle quietly with excitement.
“What-woah” Eddie froze in his tracks briefly before he took action. There you were laid out for him on a silver platter for the taking. “What’s gotten into you little minx?” He smirked before crawling his way up the bed to you with a look in his eye that you knew you were in for it tonight.
You hadn’t been fully naked in front of Eddie for a month. And god he missed being with you, especially your boobs. He needed that skin to skin connection and he missed using them as a pillow and and something to put in his mouth.
He was half way up your body when he stopped in his tracks. The low mood lighting you had set caught something shiny and reflective on your chest. As Eddie’s eyes fully scanned you you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You needed to just observe his reaction, you waiting long enough.
“What the fuck? Did you-!?-How did-?! When?!” Eddie was shocked to see your nipples adorned with two ruby red jewels on each side of your hard nipples.
“Do you like it?” You couldn’t tell if he did or not.
“Is this why you’ve been hiding from me?” He avoided the question.
You slowly nodded your head yes and Eddie’s eyes finally snapped away from your boobs to your face.
“God you’re perfect, what did I do to deserve you?” He leaned in to kiss you, hard and you let out a moan of pleasure.
“So you like it?” You asked one more time.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuu-uuu-uuu-uck” he drew out “I love them, I didn’t think they could get any prettier.” He leaned down to examine more. He took each breast in his hands to get a closer look.
“Do they hurt?” He asked as he gently lifted them.
“Not anymore” you sighed. They are more sensitive if anything.
“Oh baby we are about to have so much fun” Eddie was mischievous.
Eddies tongue tentatively flicked your already hard nipple and a soft moan slipped from your lips. That only encouraged Eddie. As he suckled your nipple he could taste the cool metal bar.
The way Eddie was worshiping your body only shot a a wave of pleasure through to your core. He was making you feel so good you wanted to return the favour.
“Babyyyyy” you moaned.
“What! Oh my god! Did I hurt you sweetheart?” He jerked back up.
“No” you cooed “I wanna do something for you” You smirked.
“Baby I think you’ve given me enough.” He cupped your breast again, rubbing each nipple with his thumbs, playing.
“Please” you pout “you’ll really like it.” You sat up and crawled closer to him.
You slipped your hand up Eddie’s shirt and pulled it up over his head. You then stripped him of his pants and boxers letting his throbbing cock pop out.
“What did you have in mind honey?” Eddie asked.
“Sit on the edge of the bed for me.” You instructed as you got off the bed and knelt down infront of him. You then reached into the night stand drawer and got out you lube. Eddie gave you a confused look but you told him to trust you so he did.
You squeezed the slippery liquid into your hand to warm it up before sliding it up and down the soft velvety skin of his long thick cock.
Eddie let out a grunt when your hands made contact with his shaft. He observed you, still confused, as you sat up and adjusted to sit directly between his legs. You took his cock and placed it between your breasts. Eddie’s brain just about short circuited as he watched you envelop his cock between your two breasts.
“Fuck you’re perfect.” He sat back and watched you as you worked your boobs up and down his cock. The soft warm delicate skin of your boobs, mixed with the sight of your decorated nipples was making him wanna bust right then and there, but then you dipped your head down to take the tip in your mouth and he embarrassingly came right then and there.
“Mmmmm” you hummed with a smile as you swallowed him down.
“Fuck baby you’re killing me” he huffed as he caught his breath.
“I’m glad you like them” you giggle.
“Like them?! Fuck baby I love them” Eddie growled as he helped you stand up and took your nipple back in his mouth.
You threw your head back with pleasure as Eddie massaged each breast with his hands and mouth.
“Eddie” you moan
“What is it you want baby?”
“You” you gasp as his fingers found your clit.
You cupped his head trapping his mouth on your nipples. His fingers worked your swollen clit before slipping in a finger. Your knees buckled and Eddie chuckled darkly at the effect he had on you.
“You like that? My dirty girl.” He looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes.
“You know I do! Dont stop!” You cried as the feeling of pleasure built up up up, his fingers hitting each and every right spot until you broke.
You crumbled as you came on Eddie’s fingers.
“That’s my goodgirl” he continued to work your pussy as you rode out your high.
“I didn’t think sex could get any better you laughed.
“Oh we are just getting started darling”
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joszns · 7 months
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miss you ✭
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college!ellie x reader
content: sexting, nudes, first sexting experience, vibrator usage (reader), masturbation, pet names (baby, good girl, babe)
summary: ellie misses you a little too much on a late night and decides to text you…
part 2!!!
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ellie bit her lip, laying on her bed. a still-lit joint rested in the ash tray next to her, the drug affecting her greatly as she tried to ignore the growing arousal between her legs. she rolled to her side, grabbing her phone and checking the time.
11:30…
reluctantly, she unlocks her phone and hovers her fingertip over your contact. whatever. it’s not weird of her to text her own girlfriend, regardless of the time.
e: hey, u still awake?
she looks at the message, before leaving her phone on the bed and deciding to finish off the joint.
a ping quickly steals her attention, however.
y/n: i am, why? miss u.
she quickly takes one last hit, bursting out into a coughing fit. ellie grabs her phone, typing a reply.
e: nothing, i just miss u babe. what are you doing?
ellie gets back into bed, eyes glued to her phone.
y/n: thinking ab you, silly
she blushes slightly.
e: aw, what about me??
ellie watches you type, then disappear. ugh, was that cringe?? she rolls onto her back, nervously chewing her nail.
y/n: im thinking about ur kisses…
she feels her heart skip a beat. her thighs reflexively clench against eachother, barely relieving the desperate need for touch between them.
e: my kisses? what about them?
ellie pulls the covers over her, feeling a little exposed in her dimly lit room.
y/n: i miss them. i need them
her breath catches slightly, typing a response quickly.
e: yeah? need them where?
she bites her lip nervously, scared at your response.
y/n: want me to show you?
no fucking way.
ellie blushes furiously, her heart beating rocket speed as she stares at your message.
e: show me baby
she hopes her response comes off as cool and collected. you can’t tell tone in text after all, right?
a minute passes, and she starts to get anxious. what if that was too far?
[Y/N ❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]
ellies eyes go wide. nevermind to that. she opens the notification, getting more and more turned on.
the image was absolutely breathtaking.
you were lying on your back, shirt off, neck exposed. your skin was highlighted perfectly by your bedside lamp, jawline in the corner of the image. she could see you were biting your lip, your fingers lightly placed just above ur collarbone.
right here pls?
the text on the image read. ellie took in a deep breath, her free hand slipping beneath the covers and teasing the hem of her shirt.
e: i wish i could my love
id kiss more than just ur neck
she waits for your response, still looking at the photograph. ellie could picture it, feel you whimpering softly as she marked your neck.
y/n: how about….
[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]
ellie quickly opened the picture, dipping her fingers below the waistband of her boxers. she was extremely turned on by you, her thighs clenching again at the picture.
you had angled the camera lower, showing your bare chest as your hands covered your nipples, the text reading:
…here? ;P
fuck, ellie thought, starting to rub her clit over her boxers. she stared at the image for a moment, taking in your beautiful tits and trying her best to remember what was behind those fingers of yours. she remembered how your boobs felt up in her face, growing more aroused at the thought.
e: fuck baby you’re so hot
i miss u
i love ur boobs
she shoved her hand beneath the fabric of her boxers, desperately needing more friction.
y/n: they love u too baby
what are you thinking about?
oh god. she can’t answer that honestly. what do I say…she thought, pausing her movements. herr heart pounded in her chest, she was so close to finishing.
e: everything about u. ur so perfect. i miss the way u taste sm
y/n: yeah, you miss my pussy? ur so cute lol
ellie blushed furiously at your message, tossing her phone to the side momentarily before quickly rolling back over to grab it once again.
e: shut up.
she bit her lip, returning to the photos you had sent. she began touching herself again, thinking about your hand in place of her own.
e: what r u doing rn..?
ellie’s finger hovered over the send button nervously.
y/n: typing witg one hand
she rolled her eyes back, imagining you touching yourself, thinking about her. ellie did the same, getting off to those dirty thoughts.
e: proof?
she pressed send, half joking but half wanting to see. im such a perv…
[Y/N❤️✂️sent you a snap!]
ellie blushed, quickly opening the snapchat notification.
this time, it was a video.
it showed your hand, working away at yourself underneath your underwear. you were moaning softly, letting ellies name slip towards the end.
jesus. she let out a whimper. the video looped, and with each replay she got wetter and wetter.
e: goddamn. i need u so bad y/n
need to be all up in your pretty pussy
ellie opened snapchat, recording a video of her getting off as well. she pictured you, your perfect moans in her ear as she fingered you relentlessly.
“fuck….” she groaned.
anxiously, she sent the video, however she was too lost in her own arousal to put much worry or thought into it.
y/n: omfg ellie
i want u to fuck me so bad, your moans make me go insane baby im so wet
ellie let out a moan, rubbing her clit much more intensely now.
e: r u using that vibrator i know u have?
she could picture you, hair messy and tangled as your back arches, whimpering as the vibrator massaged your clit perfectly.
y/n: howd you know?
[New audio message from Y/N❤️✂️]
ellie excitedly played it, nearly orgasming on the spot as she heard your delicious moans.
you were whimpering her name, the faint hum of your vibrator barely heard over your cries of pleasure.
she felt herself get close, playing the audio over and over again until she was on the brink of cumming.
e: gonna cum….fuck your moans are so hot…i wish i was the one causing them
y/n: i wanna see u cum to the thought of me baby
ellies breath sped up as she began to record her touches, rubbing away at her clit and occasionally dipping her fingers inside for more slick.
“oh fuck…y/n…” she moaned, picturing your perfect tits bouncing in her face as you rode her strap. her hips bucked into her hand as she came, whimpering your name over and over again as well as several curses. she sent the video, replaying the audio you had sent as she rode herself through the orgasm.
geez…i haven’t cum that hard in a while…ellie thought, feeling her clit pulse and twitch beneath her fingers as she regained her breath.
[Y/N❤️✂️ sent you a snap!]
ellie quickly opened the video, still touching herself.
this time, you were the one cumming all over your fingers. it was truly a show, your tits bouncing as you moaned her name, the dual vibrator massaging your clit and filling you up simultaneously. you turned the camera and rested it slightly above your collarbones, giving ellie a full view of your tits and thrusting. you whimpered as you turned up the speed, cumming hard on the silicone toy and moaning ellies name into the mic repeatedly.
she almost came again, her arousal quickly growing at the sight of you.
e: hooly fuuckkk baby. i wish i could be with u in person rn. i wanna put my face all in your perfect pussy.
y/n: come over ?? lol
still horny :(( i miss you pretty girl
that was enough for her to decide.
she got up, reading the time as 12:10. whatever, anything for you.
e: on my way baby
im gonna fuck you so good
ur not gonna be able to walk tmr
y/n: can’t wait <3
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a/n :3 this is my first ever fic…if u have any suggestions or constructive critics let me know lol i hope u enjoyed!!!
edit: THANK U SM FOR ALL THE LOVE😭😭❤️working hard on another one!!!
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bluberryfields · 8 months
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This is what happens when you're raised by TV and trained in literary analysis
Beyond the crushing heartbreak of that finale, one thing in particular has stuck with me when I look at it in the context of S2 as a whole.
He lays out their relationship, "We're a team, a group. A group of the two of us. And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't."
He then turns his head away and says, "I mean, the last few years, not really."
He pauses here, facing the interior of the bookshop. Really looks it up and down.
Turns back, "And I would like to spend" before choking on his words and looks toward the window. He can't finish saying something like "And I would like to spend eternity with you" because that's too much, too fast, for both of them.
But it's that "last few years" bit that has firmly lodged itself in my very broken brain.
According to Gaiman, it's been "a few years" since the end of Season 1. Armageddon has been averted. Heaven and Hell have reluctantly retreated. Crowley and Aziraphale have been effectively cut loose from their "sides," leaving them to form their own side.
So at the start of Season 2, we get a glimpse of the “fragile existence” they have carved out for themselves. To me, the biggest difference that we see is how they exist together in front of others. Going to the coffee shop, the pub, and the other shops along the street that Aziraphale has lived on for over 200 years. And don’t forget how they act in front of Nina, Maggie, and sweet, dim Muriel.
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At the coffee shop, Aziraphale stammers a bit when Nina asks who Crowley is, but he still seems to have affection in his voice when he says, "We go back a long time."
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Compared to Shakespearian "He's not my friend! We've never met before. We don't know each other!" panic, this is an incredible difference.
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Of course, each time, Crowley is cool and cheeky and does nothing to indicate that they aren't a pair. Though, of course, he does deny it when Nina asks about Aziraphale being his side piece. “He’s not my bit on the side! He’s far too pure of heart to be anyone’s bit on the side.” And refers to him as an “Angel [swallows]I know.”
When they go the pub, Crowley's joy at doing something together in public that they do not normally do is super cute, including his cheeky order for Aziraphale's sherry. Then, when bringing the drinks over to the socially trapped Aziraphale, he greets Mr. Brown with a truly adorable, "Hello" and a signature DT smile. Then upon hearing how “excited” Mr. Fell is to host the meeting, he looks down and says, “Oh? You astonish me.” while Aziraphale sips his sherry and squirms.
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We also watch as Crowley follows Aziraphale as he goes to each shop and talks to the owners about the meeting/secret ball. In theory, Crowley has no reason to tag along, and he certainly doesn’t help sway anyone who doesn’t want to/can’t go. He goofs around at the magic shop. He splays out on the bench, chin on hand, looking for all the world a husband waiting for his wife to pick out a dress at the department store. They are so married it’s ridiculous.
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Finally, their behavior in front of Muriel while inside their sanctuary. Crowley sits on the arm of Aziraphale’s chair, somehow looking supremely comfortable on the old-fashioned furniture. He folds up those gloriously long limbs and presses himself as close as possible.
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He smiles and plays along with Aziraphale’s coaching of Muriel in her disguise. Calls him Angel and asks to speak in private. And at the end, during the awful wait while Aziraphale talks with The Metatron, Crowley cleans up the shop and tells Muriel that he and Aziraphale will need some “us” time after all this. No beating around the bush. 
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Without oversight, they can be openly together and happy. But Heaven just can’t let that happen. 
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fangirl-dot-com · 1 month
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Epilogue - Sign of the Times
Just stop your crying it’s the sign of the times… Welcome to the final show, I hope you’re wearing your best clothes… 
Here it was. The last lap of the 2025 season. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you kept pushing the car to its max. A car similar was right on your tail, and you wanted to keep him that way. You could see the finish line start to get closer. With an inhale and an exhale, you crossed the line with such speed. 
“FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY, THE POINTS WERE EQUALLED BEFORE THE FINAL RACE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS RACE, WE THOUGHT THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS GOING DUTCH ONCE AGAIN, BUT NOT IF Y/N L/N HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. SHE HAS FOUGHT BRILLIANTLY THIS SEASON AND CAN ONLY BE REWARDED WITH ONE THING! Y/N L/N IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” 
You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky… You look pretty good down here, you ain’t really good…
Your eyes flitted around your helmet as you finished your burnouts. Your heart was racing so quickly. Tears were pooling in your eyes. Was this it? Was what they were saying true? You wouldn’t believe it until you got out of the car. The “1” on the board in Parc Ferme seemed to stare at you as you climbed out. You looked at your team, who were all screaming and shaking the barrier. 
Like normal, you stood up on the car and raised a hand. Only this time, your pointer finger was out, as if you had counted to one and suddenly stopped. You stepped off the car and kneeled down next to a tyre. Your helmet rested for a moment against the cooling rubber. A hand lightly tugged you up and wrapped you in their arms. 
Oh yeah. 
You had beaten Max in the last two laps of the race, claiming the P1 spot at the end. The Dutchman was shaking you around, celebrating. But, he had lost. 
“KID, KID, YOU DID IT! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” 
Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. They quickly turned into half crescents as you smiled at him, starting to jump up and down with him. You never left his arms. 
“I’M A WORLD CHAMPION. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH!” 
Max let you go as you turned around to jump to the team. You jumped so far in that you took the barrier down with you. Sobs left your lips as everyone wanted to get their hands on their new champion. Hugs, helmet kissed, and pats were tenfold. 
Later that evening, your flag was draped around your shoulders as you held your head high for your national anthem. You could remember how you were on this step just one year ago, third place in the championship.  However, this year, you stood on that top step as Champion of the World.
redbullracing has posted
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redbullracing for the first time ever, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World!
liked by verstappen33, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 6,294,018 others
y/n.nation OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱
y/n&co LETS GO LETS GO THAT'S MY DRIVER
box_box_express YOUNGEST AND FIRST FEMALE TO WIN THE WDC
y/n.89 I still think I'm dreaming
landonorris in that case bug, I'll GLADLY take the trophy
y/n.89 NO YOU WILL NOT BACK OFF 🤺
lestappenlove I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS DAY
If we never learn, we’ve been here before… Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
“CHARLIE!”
The Monegasque barely had any time to react as your body soon collided with his. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him for the second time that night. Your hands were on his shoulders, shaking him widely. It wasn’t long before Max joined you around Charles as well. Max had brought him into a bone crushing hug, while you waited to the side with Arthur, whose tears hadn’t stopped since the second to end lap. 
The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky were blood red. The crowds around them mimicked their shine and color in devotion for the driver who stood in the middle of the crowd. 
When Max broke the hug, Arthur was the one to take his brother back in his arms. You and Max let the two have their moments. Among your jewelry that you were putting back on after the race was a pretty special ring. The Dutchman’s eyes widened as he saw you slip in onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You smiled up at him and winked. A groan left his lips. 
“Has Charles been teaching you how to wink? Or is that a Leclerc special that you pick up if you’re marrying one of them.” 
A giggle left your lips as Max’s whining, but it wasn’t long until he gave you a hug. His head rested on top of yours as you just stood there. 
For the 2026 season, Lewis and Charles had built a literal fighter jet. There was no way that yours and Max’s cars could ever keep up. With the new regulations, Newey just seemed a bit lost. However, he was understanding them little by little and promised a championship contending car for next year. 
But, you couldn’t even be sad about losing to Charles. And you had a feeling that Max felt the same way. The Monegasque deserved it, everything, and a little bit more. Lewis, in the bright red, stood next to him. He wore a proud smile for the teammate that he got so close to in the past two years. 
You stepped away from Max and made your way to the Briton. The man opened his arm and let you slip right in. A sigh left your lips as you watched Charles jump into the sea of red, thanking the team for finally loving him the right way. 
You sniffed, suddenly getting a bit emotional. And you knew why. 
You didn’t look up at Lewis as you spoke quietly. 
“You’re retiring right? I can feel it Lew, you don’t have to lie.” 
Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times,  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 
Lewis’s chest rose, his breath slightly hitching, letting you know that you were correct. His grip only got tighter around your shoulders. A quiet “yeah” left his lips. You knew how heartbreaking it must have been to see you win in 2025 and then Charles in 2026, never giving Lewis a chance to get his 8th.
“I’m happy though. It’s been a long time coming. Fernando retired last year and has decided to just not come back, I guess it’s finally my time then.” 
Tears started to drip out of your eyes. If anyone saw, they might have guessed that you were crying for joy about your friend’s win. But they didn’t know that you’d be crying for your friend’s loss too. 
“Don’t cry sweetie. I’ll be around.” 
“I’ll miss you Lew.” 
“I know kid. I know. But I’m here if you ever need me.” 
Fireworks went off again, igniting the sky and bleeding it red. 
y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted
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y/n.89 the Leclercs 2027 🖤🤍
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 7,295,097 others
y/n.nation WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS??
rb4ever I THOUGHT I saw a ring on her finger during the post-race interviews!!
maxverstappen1 I will have people know that I was the first to know
charles_leclerc um, excuse me?? Arthur phoned me after 😌
landonorris who do you think took the pictures?? 🤨
olliebearman who do you think he brought to get the ring - I win
formulala_delulu a match made in the stars!!
Just stop your crying it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here  Just stop your crying, have the time of your life  Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here
The chilled air made goosebumps arise on your arms under your long sleeved dress. You huffed as you stood outside the area, waiting for the signal to start walking. But one person was missing. Your head violently turned left and right, mind getting worried that he was going to miss the cue. When a hand touched your arm, you knee he had finally made it. 
“Vito, you were making me sweat, and then you were going to make me cry if you missed this,” you whined out. 
The older man rolled his eyes. 
“I would never do that to you. And isn’t it bad if you cry on your wedding day?” 
A huff left your lips. You wanted to say something snarky, but soft piano music began to fill the area. You knew there was a brilliant white piano being played by a talented world champion right now, urging you to start walking. 
Your arm was wrapped around Vito’s bicep as you started walking down the white cloth that had been laid down earlier in the day. 
Arthur stood on the opposite end, a nice destination of where you’d end up. Charles smiled softly at the piano as he watched his brother’s exterior start to crumble at the sight of you in your white dress. Quite possibly, tears of his own began to fall on the baby grand. 
Christian stood near Arthur and gave the younger man a tissue. Arthur took it with no hesitation. Max stood a next to a little space where Charles would come back to stand once he was done playing. 
The Dutchman had been surprised when Arthur had asked him to be a groomsman. The two laughed when Arthur mentioned that if Max didn’t take his offer, you’d make him a bridesmaid and make him wear a dress. Max had never accepted something so quickly. Ollie stood next to Max, also crying at the sight of you. These were his best friends getting married, how was he supposed to stay calm. 
After what felt like an eternity to you and Arthur, the two of you were finally back in each other’s arms. 
You whispered a “hi” to him as he took your hands. 
Arthur just cried a bit more. 
The wedding was beautiful. The colors complimented everything so well in the Italian countryside where you and Arthur held the ceremony. Your estate would host the commencement activities. You had Arthur had talked about permanently moving in so that you two could start your new lives together. But, you’d still keep your Monaco house for visits to Max and the family. 
Speaking of, your eyes landed on Kelly in the crowd. You wanted her to be in your wedding so much, but the little baby in her arms made if just fine if she couldn’t stand with you. You remember crying when Max asked you to be the godmother of his son, Adriaan Daan Verstappen. Oh well, you’d get baby snuggles later. Max and Kelly’s wedding was planned for the 2028 summer break, hence why your wedding was in December of 2027. 
Max was back to being world champion, which was fine with you. You’d let him break his own record and then destroy it later on. 
The rest of the 2024 grid were also there, along with a lot of the past F2 boys that loved Arthur as their own. 
The vows were read and the ceremony ended shortly after. As you walked back down the aisle, finally known as Mrs. Y/n Leclerc, your eyes landed on an empty seat. A picture of Lorenzo sat there, reminding everyone about the man who loved you more than life itself. 
Last night, you had heard Arthur whispering out the window. Tears had welled when you understood his words. 
“I know that you love Y/n so much Enzo. I wish that you could have been here to see tomorrow, she looks so beautiful, even if I haven’t seen the dress. I just wanted to let you know that she’s doing ok. I am here to love her so much. I know I can never replace you, but I hope you can rest easier knowing that she finally has people who also love her so much.” 
We can meet again somewhere  Somewhere far away from here…
Arthur gave you a kiss on your cheek as he led you back down the aisle. 
“Hello wife,” he said, gathering you in his arms after you rounded the corner out of sight. 
You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Hello husband.” 
During the “after party,” you couldn’t stop giggling as you got ready to throw the bouquet. You knew what was going to happen right after, and you made sure to throw it in the direction of the certain bridesmaid. 
Charles had asked for your permission for this weeks and advance and you had happily accepted. You threw the bouquet, praying that it went in the right direction. Once you turned around, a smile grew on your lips as you saw that Alex had caught it. And right behind her was Charles on one knee. 
You couldn’t wait to gain a sister. 
y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted
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arthur_leclerc can't wait to spend forever with you 💍
liked by y/n.89, oscarpiastri, pascale_leclerc, and 7,943,857 others
y/nxarthur wow, I've legit had a front row seat to this entire relationship
maxiel_lover most of the drivers from 2024 where there 🥺
y/n.89 forever is too short
arthur_leclerc I'll love you in every universe and all of eternity
landonorris gag.
charles_leclerc get a fiancé and then we'll listen to you norizz
y/n.89 not on my wedding post please boys
landonorris yes ma'am
y/n.leclerc I will be sobbing forever
We never learn, we been here before Why are we always suck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
You walked into the garage, a smile on your face as you watched Max take pole for the last time in Formula 1. The crew around you cheered once the final times were set. On the wall next to you read the names and years of yours and Max’s championships. 
The 2025 was yours, 2026 wasn’t on there, but 2027 to 2030 was all Max. He had finally broken the 7 championship record 2 races ago, winning his beloved 8th World Championship. You would have made him battle it out till the last race, but you couldn’t have done that since the 2028 season. Liam had done a good job in your car, keeping it warm until you could return. 
Max stepped into the garage, eyes still full of life at 33 year old. He was practically a baby still if you remember how old Lewis and Fernando were when they retired. His eyes lit up as they landed on you. Before he could say anything, a screech sounded in the garage. 
“MAXIE!” 
The two-year-old in your arms wiggled until you put her down. Her little legs took her to her favorite godfather, much to Charles’ chagrin of wanting to be the favorite uncle. Except Max didn’t need to know that Ferrari was Lottie’s favorite team. The Leclerc’s love for the Italian Prancing Horse was definitely written in their genetics. 
Charlotte Pascale Maxine Leclerc was born almost one year after yours and Arthur’s wedding. The announcement raised some eyebrows and you could see some adults calculating in their heads. But they ignored everything once she was born. Brown hair and bright hazel eyes were surely going to break hearts when she was older. She was a carbon copy of Arthur. 
With you getting pregnant, you’d have to miss at least 2 years of Formula 1. You also didn’t want to miss any of her firsts so you announced a semi-permanent retirement for the 2028, 2029, and 2030 seasons. You may have cried when Max said that he was going to retire while you weren’t racing. But, you knew why he was doing it.  
Penelope was 11 and Adriaan was 3. Max didn’t want to have to miss any more of their lives that he already had. 
The Dutchman bent down to pick the toddler up. 
“Hey kid.”
You knew he wasn’t talking to Lottie. You rolled your eyes as you approached him and gave him a hug. 
“I’m not a kid anymore Max. I have a kid. So it kind of cancels everything out.” 
Max only looked down at you with a smile. 
“You’ll always be my kid, no matter what.” 
“Sure Maximillian.” 
We never learn, we been here before 
Max this time did not roll his eyes or comment how that was not his name. He’s played this game before, and he’ll finally let you have it. 
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay one more season?” 
He put a hand on your shoulder. 
“I’ll be close by, don’t worry. I told you that I’d be here for all of it. I’m not breaking that promise.” 
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y/n.89 Lottie insisted she watch Maxie drive the car with Adriaan 💙
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leclercfam STOP STOP STOP THEY'RE SO CUTIEEEE
rbxferrari I can't believe Lottie is turning 3 this year???
charles_leclerc still the favorite uncle 😚
maxverstappen1 not if Lottie has anything to say about it
charles_leclerc says the man whose son was in Ferrari merch earlier
y/n.89 max I fear Charles wins this time
charles_leclerc HA
maxverstappen1 you win ONE championship and your ego grows by 10 thousand
y/n4ever dare I say I'll miss them all like this?
Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
“MAX EMILLIAN VERSTAPPEN AND CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU’RE BOTH DEAD!”  
Max and Charles looked over at Arthur with pleading eyes. 
“Help us.”
Your husband only looked at them with pity. 
“Shouldn’t have waited to tell her. Now she knows because of Instagram.” 
Both drivers, er well, a team principal and driver winced at the sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer. 
Charles immediately grabbed his son from Alex. 
“I have a baby Y/n! You can’t do anything.” 
Little Jules Herve Anthoine Leclerc looked up at his dad with big and round, green eyes, making cooing noises at everything, blissfully unaware that his aunt was about to try to kill his father. 
“But Max doesn’t!” 
Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 
Max slightly paled as he looked around for a child to grab, but Lottie was already in Arthur’s lap by the time you got down the stairs. He winced when you landed on the ground floor. You, Arthur, and Lottie had come to visit after Charles called that Alex had gone into labor. Your family of three hadn’t planned to stay this long, since it had been three weeks, but Lottie had insisted that she wanted to see Maxie, Pen, Adri, and Aunt Kelly. 
Your phone showed an Instagram post from Red Bull Racing. 
“Should I read this Max or do you just want to tell me?” you raised an eyebrow as you asked. Max winced again. This was the ultimate betrayal. 
Arthur, looking at Max with glee, asked you to read it. The Monegasque didn’t react when he felt the Dutchman’s glare on him. You only hummed as you began to read.
“Max Verstappen will officially return to the F1 paddock, not as a driver, but as the Team Principal of Oracle Red Bull Racing. 
“We are also delighted to announced that Charles Leclerc will be racing alongside Y/n L/n, as she returns from her retirement in the 2031 season.” 
Max tried to give you a smile. 
“Surprise?”
You turned to Charles, who tried not to jump due to Jules falling asleep in his arms. Your eyes narrowed. 
“I’m going to be champion again this year. You can eat my dust for this.” 
Laughter erupted from the small group. Lottie had no clue what was going on, but she crawled off of Arthur lap and demanded that she be held in your arms. Her head rested on your chest as you rocked lightly back and forth. You hadn’t planned to have her so early at 25, but the little girl in your arms was your pride and joy. 
She tried to give her best stink eye to her uncle and godfather. She pointed her little finger at them. 
“Maman is going to be champion!” her little voice squeaked out. 
And Lottie was right. 
Maman was going to be champion from 2031 to 2034, adding another four to her one.
Only four more to go. 
Stop your crying, baby, it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here 
You looked up at Arthur with a smile. The now 36-year-old stood shirtless, with a small baby on his chest. The TV in the hospital room was playing the 2035 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Like they had back in 2026, the red fireworks lit up the night. 
You knew what was coming after Charles won this year. The promises of retirement hung over his head as you watched another one of your friends leave the sport. 
The only ones that remained from your fateful 2024 season were Lando and Oscar (still with McLaren), Logan and Lance (racing together for Aston Martin), George (who raced with Kimi for Mercedes), and then Yuki and Pierre (who found each other again in now back to Torro Rosso). 
Daniel retired the year before Max along with Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. 
You looked up at your husband. 
“Are you ok if it’s just him and Lottie? I’d like to continue racing until I retire and I don’t think any more kids might be possible after?” 
Arthur looked at you with a smile. 
“That is more than ok chéri. I think Lottie will just enjoy little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc’s company.” 
You peered up at him. 
“You do not have to keep saying his full name, you know that right.” 
Arthur stepped over to the bed right as Charles was getting out of his car, finally a second time world champion. He gently put Enzo into your arms and gently rubbed over his head that was covered with blond hair. The same shade of eyes looked up into yours as your son took in the sight of you. If Lottie could be Arthur’s copy, Enzo was yours. 
Arthur sighed. 
“I can call him whatever I want. It’s not fair that he was named after Ollie and not his own father.” 
“Bebe, you said you were fine with it.” 
He knew you were teasing. 
“It is all jokes ma chéri.” 
Charles voice sounded in the room through the TV speaker. Arthur turned up the volume to hear his brother.  
“I am so thankful for this opportunity for one more championship. I have loved driving for Red Bull and previously for Ferrari. But, uh, I feel as though this is my closing chapter.” 
Mark Webber was the one to be interviewing Charles. 
The Australian asked, “So is this a retirement announcement?” 
The Monegasque gave a small smile. “It would seem so. I’ve given all that I can to the sport. It is time for me to continue my life with my family.” 
Mark clapped him on the shoulder. 
“I know I can speak for the entire Formula 1 world when I say that you will be missed.” 
y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted
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y/n.89 little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc, you're more cherished than you will ever know
liked by oliverbearman, logansargeant, y/n&fam, and 9,205,834 others
leclerc_family not all of their kids having multiple middle names💀
y/n.nation them naming little Enzo after Lorenzo - don't bother the tears 😭
landonorris so...when am I getting a kid named after me?
oscarpiastri and me?
logansargeant and me?????
olliebearman hoes mad - you're just not superior 😝
y/n.89 sorry boys, no more kids, I'll name the dog after you
iamred_iamyellow I just know that little Enzo and little Jules are going to be best of friends
We never learn, we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets We never learn we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
You sat back on a tyre of your car, looking out at the crowds. You could finally breathe easily for maybe the first time of the 2040 season. The battle was tough. All the rookies this year gave you a run for your money. 
But you had done it. Finally. 
Nine championships to your name. One of a kind feat. Probably never to be repeated until the end of time. 
You calmly walked over to the barrier. Arthur stood with your 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. When had they gotten so much bigger? You were scared after Enzo was born, getting back into racing so quickly, unlike you had done with Lottie. But Arthur was with you every step of the way. So were Charles and Alex, and so were Max and Kelly. 
You gathered your family into your arms and let yourself cry. Tears of sadness for the sport you loved with every fiber of your being, and tears of joy of finally accomplishing your one dream. It had taken 17 years for you to finally get what you wanted. 
We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much
At Milton Keynes, the years 2025, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2036, 2037, 2039, and then finally 2040 were hung in lights along the walls. You could have been done last year, but Lando had decided that he needed one championship in 2038. You were proud of the Papaya boy. All of his hard work finally paid off. And now he could have all the chances as he finished second this year. 
You had one request for this podium. You wanted everyone up there with you. Arthur made sure that everyone from the 2024 grid was there.
(Yes, even Esteban). 
The drivers you were close with when you were 20, watched as you were crowned World Champion for the ninth and last time ever. Max had red eyes the entire night. He made sure to splash you extra with the champagne. Your kids ran around squealing as their uncle Charles shot bits of bubbly at them. 
It felt like a dream, to be up there with all of your found family. After the first few times, you thought that celebrating a championship would get boring. But, you were wrong. Each time was even more special than the first. 
On the way back to the hotel, you looked to the back seat at your two kids. Both had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. You blamed yourself and Arthur for driving them around as babies, and now car noise was the best way to put them to sleep. 
Arthur looked over at you, smiling softly as he watched you look at your children with such love. 
You whispered, breaking the silence, “I have more than I could have ever dreamed. And it makes me think that this is a dream, that I’m going to wake back up in 2023 in my drivers room and not be able to do anything.” 
A quick pinch was given to your leg. 
“Ouch Thur!” you whined as you rubbed the sore part. 
Arthur had that teasing glint in his eyes that you missed so dearly. 
“I don’t think it’s a dream chéri. You’re more awake than ever.” 
redbullracing has posted
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redbullracing our golden girl in her golden year, for the ninth and last time, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World ⭐️
liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, y/n.nation, and 10,583,850 others
y/n.nation thank you Y/n for all that you have done! it's time for you to finally relax with your family!
formula1fan at first I was annoyed with the domination, but Y/n deserves it more than anyone - you will be missed champ
y/n.89 my team, I am so proud to have been your girl - let it be known I am the golden child of Red Bull
maxverstappen1 um, no, you're not the original
charles_leclerc I was the golden boy at Ferrari AND Red Bull
sebastianvettel sit down, the original golden child is here
redbullracing we love you all equally
y/n.89 ... I'm still the favorite tho
author it's the end of an era, thanks kid for everything - stay golden
Will we ever learn?  We’ve been here before It’s just what we know
At 42-years-old, you sat in a chair, looking over the estate watching Lottie and Enzo all play with Max’s family and Charles’s family. A drink was in your hand as you used the condensation to cool down from the hot Italian sun. 
Retirement from all motorsports had been your decision alone. 
Ollie and Dorian Pin had the two coveted Red Bull seats, however, Lando and Oscar were really duking it out for a world championship. You knew that the two would be fine. 
After Formula 1, you did two years of endurance racing, winning Le Mans twice and the Endurance championship once in the years of 2041 and 2042. 
In 2043, you tried out IndyCar, only wanting to win one race: The Indy500. Thankfully, you’d been able to do so in the only year you wanted to. 
Thus, becoming the second person in history to win the Triple Crown of Motorsports, and the only female. It felt nice, breaking yet another record, even if someone had done it before you. But, it didn’t feel as nice as it did right now. 
Arthur came out of the house behind you and sat on his chair that was built for him. When you had come back home, you wanted two seats in the backyard to be able to watch your children play for hours. 
Lorenzo had told you a story of your parents on year. It was about the time when they truly loved each other. They too had matching chairs outlooking their own backyard. You wished you could have such memories of you parents. But now, you rarely thought of them. 
Because in the end, you didn’t need them. 
A tear ran down your face as you continued to watch Penelope, Adriaan, Lottie, Jules, and Enzo play under the Italian sunset. 
“Why are you crying chéri?” 
Arthur’s hand had come to your face to wipe the single tear away. 
You didn’t look at him and kept watching the family that you built out of love and dreams.
“I’m happy, so happy.” 
Stop your crying, baby it’s a sign of the times…
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