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#and he gets home from work and. IMMEDIATELY starts picking a fight.
lynk-zee · 3 days
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I'm a new follower after binging to your writings akejwjeej anyway, I've been craving for some angst lately and here's what I got so far,
reader who started acting cold towards the MLs because they've been hanging out way too much with MC (not the reader) so they started not replying to them, talking or just not going out to them at all until the reader just ghosted them.
though I'm not sure if u write angst since it's not written or indicated.. it's up to you if u want to write this. if not, feel free to ignore XD
Envy
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AN: Hi nonnie! Since I didn’t specify that i prefer to write hunter/ambiguous!Reader (basically not rivaling with the MC) before you sent in the request, I will write this for you! :)
Future asks should either MC!Reader or Ambigous!Reader please! Ty 🩶
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It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t paying attention to you enough lately. And he was supposed to be your boyfriend! He promised that they were just friends, that it was nothing more than work, but now you didn’t know…
So when he texted you last, you turned off your phone, not wanting to deal with his bullshit.
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Knows there’s something wrong immediately. You always answer his texts. Whether it be an emoji or a full-blown paragraph, you’ve never left Zayne on read. Ever.
So, he goes to the flower shop and buys you a bouquet. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. He texts you that he’s picking up your favorite dinner on the way back and asks what kind of macarons you want. You don’t answer, so he goes the safe option and gets your favorite. You almost don’t answer the door when he drops by, but you can’t hide from this forever. So with a heavy sigh, you swing the door open to see Zayne with a bouquet of flowers with dinner and dessert.
Zayne: Can we talk…?
You let him in, of course you do, and you eat dinner in silence. But Zayne is adamant about having this discussion.
Zayne: She’s my patient…and my friend.
You: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you need to hang out with her all the time!
In the end you both discussed your feelings and set clear boundaries with him. It’s a step in the right direction. Later, he cuddles you on the couch, stroking your hair while whispering affirmations in your ear.
Zayne: I’m sorry, dear. You’re the only one for me… Never doubt that.
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This was the third date he blew off. For her. Yes, she was just his body guard, and yes Rafayel has always been naturally flirty, but that didn’t mean his fondness for her didn’t affect you. You were his significant other! All his flirty affections should be yours and yours alone. You couldn’t stand the fact you had to share his attention. Apparently, Rafayel couldn’t either.
Rafayel: It’s not that big of a deal! She was just helping me gather metapearls to make into pigment— Yes, I could have called you. But she’s my bodyguard! She’s more cut out for it!
Sweet whispers and reassurances turned to broken promises. What was supposed to be one hour away turned to five and you were sitting alone in the fancy restaurant yet again. You didn’t even wait for him at home like you usually do. After turning off your phone, you opted to crash at a friends house.
This turned into a big fight.
Rafayel: What’s with you— You were never this clingy.
Clingy? Not wanting to share your boyfriend with a potential lover is clingy? When you brought up the b word (breakup), he got his act together real quick.
Rafayel: Okay, okay. She’ll be my bodyguard at PR events only… And I’ll only contact her for business purposes.
Though you’d rather her not be his bodyguard at all, you understand they have a deal regarding hunter work so it’s a compromise. While you’re at your desk doing some work, he wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling your into your neck.
Rafayel: ‘M really sorry… I was a real jerk… I love you…
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The worst part about having this problem with Xavier is that he has no idea what’s going on. She was his coworker, his work partner, and his neighbor. There wasn’t much he could do to stop seeing her.
Xavier: I can’t just move out of my home because of you have a problem with her…
You: Yeah, but she doesn’t need to come over all the time to “teach you how to cook”. I could do that!
It gets worse when they go on missions together. He had promised to call you every night. But he didn’t. And you were fed up.
So, you blocked him. Only for the duration of his mission. But it’s long enough to send a message. The next day, he comes to your house with an arm full of plushies and a nervous look in his eyes.
Xavier: I read that in order to maintain a strong relationship, you have to communicate and set boundaries… Can we discuss this? Together?
You guys both end up having a heartfelt discussion at the table. You heard his side, he heard yours, and you came to a compromise about the situation. He takes you out on a sweet date as an apology. It isn’t the end all be all of apologies, but it’s a start. He holds your hand tightly, leaning over to kiss your forehead.
Xavier: I promise we’re in this together for the long ride, just you and me…
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stevestark · 2 days
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🎃+ Stranger Things
🎃 - “we accidentally matched costumes and now everyone thinks we’re dating” send me an emoji + a fandom and I'll write you a mini fic!
Steve stares at the clothing Robin has laid out on his bed, a frown on his face. "Seriously, Rob? Do I have to wear this?"
"A bet's a bet, dingus," Robin says. "You're the dumbass who bet me that I couldn't get Vickie to do a keg stand last weekend, and you agreed that if she did, I get to choose your costume."
"Yeah," Steve says, "but a dress?"
"Aww, don't worry, Stevie," Robin croons. "You've totally got the legs for it."
Steve sighs and picks up the dress. "Fine. But I draw the line at makeup. I will not be totally embarrassed in my own home."
Robin cackles with glee and shoves Steve toward his bathroom. "This is going to be amazing."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Eddie opens the door to the trailer right as Dustin lifts his hand to pound on it again; "Chill out, dude. I heard you the first time. Knock any louder, and you're gonna crack the windows."
"Sorry," Dustin says, not sounding at all apologetic. "But this hay is really heavy and I still have to go get my costume on for Steve's party."
Eddie grins, taking the armful from Dustin. "Thanks, man. How'd you get your hands on so much anyway?"
Dustin shrugs, and says, "My mom's like, super into crafting these days. She made all our Halloween decorations this year, and this was all her leftovers."
"Sick. Okay, scram, I got it from here. Tell your mom I said thanks."
"Tell her yourself. She's waiting in the car."
Eddie perks up immediately. "I thought you were having Nancy bring you? Why didn't you say Mama Henderson was here?" he asks, running outside to go give Mrs. Henderson a squeeze.
Dustin ambles along behind him muttering the whole time about how everyone always likes his mom more than him.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The party starts at 8pm sharp, which naturally means everyone shows up at 8:30; Steve has different music playing in every room, loud enough so you can hear it but not so loud that they drown each other out. He's got a few kegs, and a shitload of soda, and Hopper and Joyce are on their way, prepared to watch the kids to make sure none of them try to sneak any booze.
The doorbell rings, and Robin races him to the door, flinging it open excitedly. All of the kids, plus Joyce and Hopper are gathered on the front walk, chattering excitedly and fawning over each others' costumes.
"Okay, okay," Robin says, "Let's get this party going!" Joyce gives her a hug as she walks in and compliments her Bowie costume, and Hopper grunts as he passes; if Robin had to bet, she'd guess Joyce forced him into their couple's costume of The Dread Pirate Roberts and Princess Buttercup, but they look cute as hell so she doesn't know why he's so mad.
The kids are an eclectic bunch of costumes, with Max and El as the twins from The Shining, Dustin as Marty McFly, Mike, Will, and Lucas as the three male leads from The Breakfast Club; Jonathan and Nancy are dressed as Princess Leia and Han Solo, Argyle is Tommy Chong, and Eddie is...oh my God.
Robin throws back her head and cackles at the sight of Eddie dressed as The Scarecrow. "Oh my God. Oh my God, this is too good."
Eddie makes a dramatic show of stumbling through the door and gives a bow. "I figured I'm already stumbling around all the time, might as well make it work in my favor."
Robin just laughs some more, and drags Eddie into the kitchen, where Steve is explaining the drinks situation to Hopper and Joyce.
Eddie stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Steve in sparkly kitten heels and a knee-length checkered dress. "Holy shit."
Steve stops mid-sentence and looks up at Eddie; "Robin? Now might be a good time for you to run."
Robin darts behind Hopper, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and poking her head around his side. "I swear, Steve, I had no idea."
Joyce and Hopper are fighting back laughter, and Eddie is still staring open-mouthed at Steve.
"So you're telling me we accidentally wore a couple's costume?"
Eddie shakes his head and grins at Steve. "Ah, a true Wizard of Oz connoisseur, acknowledging the long-ignored sexual tension between Dorothy Gale and The Scarecrow."
Hopper actually chokes at that, and tries to mask it as a cough; he reaches behind himself and pulls Robin out from behind him. "So," he says, mirth coloring his tone. "You're the reason Harrington is stumbling around in heels?"
Robin nods, trying not to laugh. "He lost a bet."
Joyce shakes her head fondly and pats Steve on the shoulder. "You've got the legs for it, honey," she says kindly.
"That's what I said!" Robin yells, gesturing at Steve's admittedly toned calves.
"I hate everyone in this kitchen," Steve grumbles, heading to open the door as more guests arrive.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The party gets underway, and everyone is having a good time; Hopper and Joyce are vigilantly holding court in the kitchen, to the kids' dismay, but Robin just shushes them and passes a single cup of beer for them to pass around. Each of them takes a sip and scrunches their noses, shaking their heads; "That's vile," Max says, spitting her sip back into the cup. Robin grins and gives Steve a thumbs up from across the room; they knew if they gave the kids shitty beer they'd lose all interest in drinking.
Steve is standing with Argyle, who's waxing poetic to him about the impact Cheech and Chong have had on society, and trying to look interested; Eddie is on the other side of the room, debating Star Wars with Jonathan and Nancy; the members of Corroded Coffin are dancing with Robin's band friends, and everyone is having a really good time, which is a welcome relief in the wake of finally defeating the monsters in their town.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
At the end of the night, Hopper and Joyce round up all the kids and drive them home in shifts; Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, and Eddie are all too tipsy to drive, and have announced they're sleeping over at Steve's to help him and Robin clean up.
As they're doing so, collecting red solo cups and candy wrappers in each room, Eddie sidles up to Steve.
"Surprised you're still wearing the shoes," he says, a sly grin on his face.
"They're not so uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours," Steve says with a shrug.
"You know," Eddie says slowly. "Everyone was asking me tonight when I finally made a move on you. Nobody seemed to believe we didn't match our costumes on purpose."
Steve laughs softly. "Yeah, I got the same treatment all night."
Eddie inches closer to Steve, crowding him against the dining room table. "Well," he drawls. "Maybe we should take their advice?"
Steve looks sharply up at Eddie. "W...what?"
Eddie lifts his hand to gently fix Steve's Dorothy wig. "I mean, come on, Steve. We spend all our time together anyway. What's the difference in that and just...throwing in a little making out?"
Steve flushes and ducks his head. "Didn't think you were interested."
"Baby," Eddie says, tipping Steve's head back up with a finger under his chin. "I've been flirting with you relentlessly for weeks."
Steve blinks rapidly and then crushes his lips against Eddie's. "Thank god," he says breathlessly when they pull apart. "Kinda pissed I had to wear a dress for you to make a move though."
Eddie laughs, loud and bright. "Steve, you could've worn a burlap sack and I'd still have a hard time not kissing you in front of everyone. I've been dying to do this."
Robin walks in right then and throws her fists up in victory. "FINALLY!" she screeches. "GUYS! It happened!"
"I hate all of you," Eddie and Steve say in unison as everyone runs in, catcalling them.
"Is now a bad time to say I knew what Eddie was dressing as and that Vickie had been practicing her keg stands and that this whole thing was an elaborate plot?" Robin asks, smirking triumphantly.
Steve freezes and narrows his eyes at Robin. "Hopper's not here to protect you now, Buckley," he says, lunging towards her and chasing her through his house as she cackles.
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haha people who have normal relationships with their fathers where they didn’t grow up being constantly made to feel dumb/unimportant/annoying…. what’s that like babes hahaha
#autism doesn’t make you a bad parent. unmanaged/unaddressed autism combined with a general lack of consideration for everyone around you…#now THAT will fuck your kid up.#autistic people often struggle with eye contact. that’s cool no problem i can still engage in conversation like that.#buuut when you’re four and super exited to tell your dad what you did that day and he literally doesn’t acknowledge your presence??#and it’s that across your entire LIFETIME? your entire childhood and teen years and fuck it even your adult life????? THAT SHIT SUCKS#and THEN the only times you CAN get a conversation out of him it’s an argument where he WILL not stop talking over you#and scoffing at every single word you say#and raising his voice as he tells you how stupid you’re being#ummmmmmmmmm yeeaaahhhh okie dokie. a lifetime of that might ummm… lead to a few issues.#oh wait i forgot the third category of interaction: listening to him complain about something absolutely meaningless. for 20mins.#just killing the mood of any conversation.#you’re watching tv it’s fun everyone’s having fun!! yayyy yippee isn’t this nice#and then someone on tv will say ‘up and down the country’ (goofy but harmless phrase) and suddenly all you can hear is a rant#about the banality of overused idioms and phrases.#LIKE!! can you fucking lighten up for five fucking seconds. please.#idk man. my mum and i spent our whole morning travelling out to some random shop wayyyy out of our way. requires multiple buses to get there#JUST to get him a birthday present. because we thought it was fun and cute and because it’s very personal to him.#like we built our DAY around this. we spent £120 on this. FOR HIM!! because we thought he’d enjoy it!!!!#and we’re spending all day tomorrow wrapping his presents and hand making cards and planning the cake i will be baking for him#and he gets home from work and. IMMEDIATELY starts picking a fight.#like we had a lovely day. we had SUCH a good day. and a lot of it was about doing stuff FOR HIM for HIS BIRTHDAY!!!#which we were HAPPY AND EXITED TO DO!!!!!#and he fucking ruins the whole thing.#now my mum is sleeping on the sofa because she’s so angry at the way he was talking to me and i’m typing this bullshit.#and. he just. he doesn’t care. he doesn’t get it. he literally cannot comprehend why we’re upset at him.#he can’t see anything from anyone else’s perspective. he can’t comprehend the idea that maybe just maybe HE was the one being unkind.
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sukunasteeth · 2 months
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Picking You Up From Work
Sukuna leans on the bumper of his Camaro, hoping a drop of rain doesn’t land perfectly on the tip of his cigarette and snuff it out. He’s pretending not to watch the front door of your workplace, like an anxious dog waiting for his owner to come home, but it’s ten minutes past the time you said you’d be out, and he was ready to take you to his apartment and settle down for the night. It had been a long day- he wanted to forget it in the taste of your whimpering on his tongue.
Customers pass him on their way into your workplace. Sukuna wonders briefly what has them whispering to each other and sneaking glances over at him: the nearly sixty year old car or the man covered in tattoos leaning against it?
Fifteen minutes pass before he checks his phone again. It was unlike you to be late, you knew Sukuna had a pet peeve of not being on time and, despite how hairbrained you were, he knew you tried to meet him halfway. Looking over his shoulder, he peeks at the flowers sitting on the passenger seat waiting for you. If he had known you'd be a minute, he would have put a splash of water in the bottom of the flower wrap holding the bouquet together. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, hoping they don’t wilt by the time you get to them.
“I’m sorry, I have to get going-” Your voice chimes through the sound of the rainfall like a cleansing bell, bringing Sukuna’s attention snapping back towards the exit of your work.
You're standing halfway between his car and the building, directly in the middle of the parking lot. A man dressed in a similar uniform to yours is standing a little too close to you for Sukuna’s comfort.
He flicks the ash off of the end of his cigarette and takes a drag.
~
“Are you sure?”
It’s been a long day.
“We could go get some coffee and just hangout for a bit-”
A really long day.
Granted: working customer service you expected long days. Grating days. Days in which you questioned your faith in humanity. But, that all usually ended when you clocked out for the night and headed home. You could easily forget all of it at the door. Tonight, however, the annoyance of having to save face continues.
You had been trying to give this guy a hint all day as he followed you around, desperate to catch your attention and doing anything to gain a brownie point. It was really starting to tick you off.
Not only that, you knew Sukuna was waiting for you somewhere in the parking lot and it was only a matter of time before this man was decapitated before your very eyes.
Dammit, you just wanted to go home.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve got someone waiting for me. Have a good night!” You try to wave him off, offering a polite smile before you turn your back to him.
"Who's waiting for you?" Sam calls out, still not catching the hint.
Before you can reply, a hand reaches around your waist, securing you to a familiar side- but you've been on edge all day, just waiting for your coworker to make one bold wrong move. On instinct, you snatch the wrist at your hip with a deathgrip before realization is able to save you.
Your eyes whip up to meet Sukuna's smirking gaze, his smile flashing into that serpentine grin that makes your fight or flight mode go off.
"Ohoho-" He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous darkness lurking beneath it. 
"'Kuna!" You ease your grip immediately, cradling his hand in sympathy. Part of you is instantly relieved he’s here to sweep you away, and the other part is sweating over how he’s going to handle this situation.  
Sukuna could be a bit possessive. 
"Good grip." He purrs, snatching up your own hand instead and continuing his original plan of tucking you securely into his side. "You turned your back to the scum bag, though." He tsks quietly. "My brat should know better."
Sukuna easily turns the both of you around, lifting you slightly to move without tripping you. You’re forced to face your coworker once again, although you notice that your unease has dissipated with Sukuna next to you now. 
“Is this...? A-Are you guys…” Sam sneers at Sukuna's sudden appearance, his poorly shaven lip curling up in disgust. 
Sukuna merely hums in response, “Every night while you’re wet dreamin’ about it.”
“S-Sukuna!” You interrupt, squeezing his fingers. Heat burns in your ears and you can feel them going pink under Sam’s now incredulous stare. “Is… my… yes.” You finish quietly, trying to avoid either one of the men watching you. Letting people into your personal life was not something you liked to do, even though you're sure your fiance would love it if you screamed it from the rooftops.
“Aw,” Sukuna makes a fond, sentimental noise and you press your elbow into his rib cage when you hear a mischievous lilt to his tone. 
“You and this guy?” Sam gives Sukuna an obvious once over, crossing his gangly arms over his chest in disapproval. “He’s not even your type!”
Oh.
Maybe this guy deserved a good beating.
Even you were too afraid to look at your fiance at that moment, you could tell by the look on Sam’s face that Sukuna wasn’t happy. 
The scariest part about Sukuna getting angry, was the lack of reaction. There was no glaring. No muscles going rigid. No shouting. There was only this overwhelming sense of danger, like a prey animal realizing it was about to meet its predator. 
Sam tries to fix it, sensing the murderous intent hanging in the air, but his ego still tries to bite: “Look, dude, I don’t mean any harm. I just think she needs a gentleman.”
Now that piques your interest.
You need a gentleman?
You almost completely forget about Sukuna for a moment, your head snapping in your coworker's direction with breakneck speed. 
“Gentleman?” You repeat, scoffing. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve been breathing down my neck like a fucking animal in heat all day. Practically begging for half a second of female attention in any form you can get it and you’re standing here-after trying to follow me to my car like some fucking pervert- and you’re trying to tell me you’re a gentleman?”
When you try to take a step forward, you're reminded of Sukuna's unrelenting grip on your hip bone, holding you in place.
“Calm down- all I wanted to do was walk you to your car.” Your ill-favored coworker rolls his eyes, although you can sense his discomfort in the way he takes a few steps away from you. His ego speaks again, and you see red. “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 
What.
“Alright, alright” Sukuna is shoving something cold and jagged into your hands, distracting the sudden confused rage that washes over you. Before you can expel it, he unfastens his hand from around your waist and nudges you in the direction behind him. “Go start the car.”
You blink up at him, taken back by the entire situation. His keys dangle in your frozen fingers, clinking together. 
Sukuna knows you're mad. Knows the only thing on your mind is curb stomping the man in front of you. And you know he won't let you get anywhere near that.
“Come on, Duckie.” He purses his lower lip in a mock pout when you don't turn to leave immediately. There’s something dark glittering behind the faux playfulness in his eyes, reassuring you that nobody was going to get off easy, asking you politely to turn your gaze from what he was about to do.
His calloused thumb sweeps over your fingertips, gliding over the deep red nail polish there. The kiss he presses against your knuckles is one meant for royalty. Soft and sweet. And incredibly persuasive. “I just got these nails done. Lemme keep ‘em pretty for ya.” 
~
When Sukuna opens the driver side door and slides in, fifteen minutes have passed. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek that matches the one on his knuckles, the red catches his eye in the review mirror. He licks his finger, using his spit to try and wipe it off before he turns to meet you, smiling sweetly. 
“What should we get for dinner?"
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mountainsandmayhem · 15 days
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God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller
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Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader
18+ only!!!
Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.
CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.
AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo
Graphics by @saradika-graphics
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God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.
And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.
Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.
You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”
You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.
You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.
Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.
You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.
Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.
He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.
She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.
His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.
She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.
He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.
She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.
And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.
He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.
He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.
His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.
Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.
Yep, I’m going for it.
You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.
The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.
“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”
“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.
Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.
You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.
“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.
You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.
“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no
And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear
King Jeremy the wicked
Oh, ruled his world”
Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.
“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.
You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.
You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.
“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”
Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.
“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.
He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”
You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.
“Joel -” you start.
“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”
“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.
“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.
“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.
“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.
You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.
“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”
Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.
“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”
“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.
He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”
“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.
“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.
“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.
“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.
“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.
“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”
“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”
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Taglist
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@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot
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@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog
@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya
@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81
810 notes · View notes
1pepsiboy · 6 days
Text
Falling Asleep on the Vlog - Matt Sturniolo Fluff (request)
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Matt Sturniolo x reader!
Word count: 842
Warnings: nothing except caring boyfriend Matt
A/N: sometimes I go into these knowing how I want it to go and then it just goes a different direction... But I think that was for the better this time.
***
Chris and Nick are ahead of you and Matt as you all piled into the house. Nick held the camera as they continued to record. The four of you went to get the new baja blast flavor from Taco Bell. Mostly for Chris since it was his idea after he saw an ad for it. Of course, there was also a party box of tacos that came home too. 
It was a long day at work for you. There were so many (rude) customers that you dealt with, and you helped with unloading the inventory that arrived. You only agreed to leave the house because Matt had to drive and you didn’t want to be alone. Being in the vlog?… That you were even less thrilled about since you looked like an absolute disaster. And your mood was not particularly cheerful. 
But coming over to the house always played the game of are they recording now or no? Matt was usually pretty good about giving you a heads up. He forgot to do it this time, but you couldn’t put all the blame on him. It was just part of the deal with dating him and being around their work. 
You reach the top of the stairs and Matt carefully starts to lead you toward the kitchen. You let go of Matt and your lightly laced fingers. Immediately, he turns around with puppy dog eyes. The scruff he had actually somehow made it cuter and more heartbreaking. 
“Where are you going?” His voice was so soft and only loud enough for you to hear. 
“No where, just want to chill on the couch till you're done.” You shoot him a small smile. 
This only makes slight concern cross his face and he steps in closer to you. “Is everything okay?”
You kiss him on the cheek. “Yeah, work was a lot today and I’m just tired.” 
“What happened? Your manager didn’t shit on you again, did they?”
Up to this point, you had been putting up a smoke screen, holding it together for your boyfriend and his brothers so they could get content. Without warning for either of you, tears welled up and slipped down your cheeks. 
“I do s-so much… I put up with a lot from customers… no one asks i-if I’m okay.”
Matt engulfed you in a tight bear hug and stroked your hair. He whispered into your ear, “Sssh, babe. I am and always will.”
After what felt like minutes of Matt soothing you, rather than leaving you by yourself he talks to Nick and Chris over his shoulder. You tried not to listen too closely. You only focused on the peaceful rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest.
He let go of his warm hug and you couldn’t help whimpering. “Babe…”
“I’m sorry, I just gotta do this one part. I’ll be over right after, promise.” He kissed your temple and gestured to the couch. 
Reluctantly, you slipped into the background on the couch. It felt like they were talking about the new drink and whatever else for hours. Matt was constantly checking in on you, and it would be obvious to the fans that something was off. Hopefully Nick could magically edit out a majority of the off screen glances. 
The slight breakdown and lull of scrolling through your phone made your eyelids heavy. You managed to pull the closest blanket over you to curl up in. A little while after closing your eyes, you felt arms pick you up and then both of you lowered onto the couch again. 
“What?” you groaned, a light yawn escaping. “What’s going on?”
Matt giggled. “You fell asleep, babe.”
“Oh…” 
Your head fell on his shoulder as Matt’s arms wrapped around your body acting like a shield. Matt kissed the top of your forehead then he rested his head on top of yours. Your eyes immediately tug close again, it was hard to fight off the prickling sleep. 
“You guys are disgustingly cute,” Nick commented. 
Chris aimed the camera at the two of you. “Goodnight campers!”
“Ew.” Nick scrunched his nose. “No, that was reserved for the podcast only. Don’t do that.”
“Well, now that’s over, we should start using it in the vlogs,” Chris bartered. 
Nick shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“What? Why not? Come on! They love it!”
Matt flipped them off. “Ssh! End the vlog over there. Please?”
Chris jutted out his bottom lip. “Aww, Nick, he said pwease.”
Nick rolled his eyes, but then babied, “Aren’t you such a good boyfriend, Matty? Cuddling with (y/n) and defending her from us.” He reached over to ruffle his hair. 
Matt swatted his hand away with one hand, attempting to not disturb you. “Yeah? This is why I’m the only one not single.” 
“Oh, I’m single by choice,” Nick threw back quickly. 
“Me too,” Chris agreed. 
Matt rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.” 
You couldn’t help the smile that spread on your lips and you snuggled more into Matt, fueling more of the fire between them. 
944 notes · View notes
roaron · 1 year
Note
Okay, but what if THEY walk on you mastubating??
- OMG I was planning to do this and you just reminded me, thank you very much stranger for feeding into my delusions. i deadass can’t believe that this is how I spend my time. ENJOY (´∀`=)
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MHA boys catching you masturbating
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authors note - I tried to make this as gender neutral as I could so that everyone could read this without feeling left out and shit. hope I did y’all justice one again. ENJOY ! ALSO, thank you all for the submissions and request, im already working on like 10 !! they’ll be out really soon trust me :))
characters - (izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki)
warnings - nsfw obviously
minors im onto y’all, either be sneaky or pick your ass up and get out this class yfm ☆
ENJOY (´∀`=)
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Izuku Midoriya
- as perfect as your boyfriend izuku was, he was a very busy man. crime didn’t fight itself and as the number 1 hero, he had a duty to protect. so after a tiring day of saving people, izuku comes home in hopes that you could both cuddle and he’d fall asleep in your arms.
- he makes his way to the bedroom and that’s when he begins to hear soft moans coming from inside the room. soft moans of HIS name.
- he quietly opens the door and the sight before him almost makes him drop to his knees. on your shared bed lies you with your legs wide open, a hand delving in and out of your hole, and another hand playing with your perky nipple as your head is flung back in satisfaction.
- the view in front of him, added to the pornographic sounds you were making drove him over the edge as he feels his pants tighten. he bites his bottom lip and his lids hang low over his eyes as he approaches you and sits at the corner of the bed, still going unnoticed.
- subconsciously he reaches a hand out towards you and strokes your leg, making you jump.
“I-IZUKU ?? OH MY GOODNESS !”
- you hastily attempt to grab a pillow to cover yourself but your boyfriend stops you right in your tracks, moving to tower over your naked form and pin your wrists down onto the bed.
“no no no, please don’t y/n. i really want to see.”
- he then let’s go of your wrists and moves away from you, sitting cross legged on the bed in front of you, staring at you intently before reaching a hand into his pants and resting it there.
- it takes you a moment before realising he’s waiting for you, only then do you continue touching yourself and that’s when you notice how he begins touching himself too.
Katsuki Bakugo
- it was starting to get lonely around the house, and it was only the second day that your boyfriend bakugo had left for his 2 week hero trip. you sulked for the entire day, missing his presence, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. the way he touches you.
- just the thought of him touching you brings heat to your face. you rush to your shared room and begin to take off your clothes. first your robe, then your panties. a pretty pink one that bakugo had gotten you.
- you lie back on your shared bed and begin to work on the problem between you legs, stuffing yourself with your fingers and crying out your boyfriends name, pretending it was him fucking you.
- unknown to you, your boyfriend had just arrived home to tell you the trip was cancelled and that his friend izuku had taken care of it, knowing how bakugo doesn’t like being away from you.
- but as he walked through the door, the first thing that greets him is a loud moan of his own name. bakugo stands frozen and confused as to what was going on. he calls for you but there’s no response so his first instinct is to head towards the bedroom.
- he swings the bedroom door open and that’s when he sees you.
“oh my fucking god.”
- you immediately notice his voice and let out a cry, grabbing a pillow and covering yourself in complete and total embarrassment.
“k-katsuki, I didn’t know you were home..”
- you couldn’t believe what had just happened but when you looked up at your boyfriends face, you noticed him reaching down to pick up the pink panties you’d discarded on the floor. you shriek as he then makes his way over to you and stares deep into your eyes.
“really y/n. you couldn’t fucking wait.”
- you look away, unable to maintain eye contact but bakugo just grabs your face and snaps it so that you are forced to look at him. he looks from your eyes to your lips before pushing his mouth against yours, tearing the pillow you’d been holding away from you and replacing your hands between your legs with his own. hastily pumping his fingers inside of you, while swallowing all of your moans within the kiss.
“as much as I love you y/n, you really are a whore.”
Shoto Todoroki
- shoto had only left about an hour ago to go and spend the day with his family, trying to rekindle the bond between him and his father was no easy task, but he’d faced harder ones. being the number three hero and all. you were the one who convinced him to go and yet now you need him more than anything.
- you didn’t want to tell him how horny you were before he left, because you knew that he wouldn’t want to go with his family and would instead prefer to stay home and fuck you.
- you sigh to yourself and make your way to the bedroom you both share, preparing to spend your time touching yourself instead of having your gorgeous boyfriend have his way with you.
- now naked with you back against the headboard of the bed and with your hand buried between your thighs, you let out soft moans of shotos name, craving his love and his touch, you wished that he was here with you, praising you and kissing away your flaws.
- completely lost in your own pleasure, you fail to realise that shoto had returned home in search of you after having an argument with his father. you also failed to realise that he was in fact stood tall in the doorframe, staring at your shaking figure. his eyes staring at the wet mess between your legs and your needy fingers.
“y/n, my love.”
- you jump back to reality and notice your boyfriend standing in front of you, his head tilted upwards with his eyes staring downwards at you, almost in a degrading way. it only made you want him more.
“shoto, please come here.”
- not a second goes by before shoto is in front of you, kneeled on the bed awaiting your commands. he could switch between dominant and submissive so quickly, it’s one of the many things about him that drove you crazy.
- you shyly gestured to the space between your legs, and with that, shoto dipped his head down and put his mouth to work.
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7K notes · View notes
intoxicated-chan · 1 year
Text
Late Night Moments with Miguel O’Hara
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x GN!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ It was normal for Miguel to return home late, you weren’t surprised by his usual entrance through your bedroom window. But what you did enjoy when he came home late is the little routine the two of you have.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ This is a mixture of a fic and headcanons of mine. Miguel is plaguing my mind, I’ve already got two stories in the works. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! And requests will be open soon!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 533
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Gender neutral reader, heavy fluff, light blood, injuries, bruises, mentions of violence…
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It starts with a few taps on your window, the taps play in a certain pattern so you know who it is. A few seconds later, the window slides open and in comes Miguel dressed in his Spider-Man costume. He enters with a huff as he closes the window and makes sure it’s locked.
Next, he welcomes you with a tight hug, holding you for a few minutes before you ask if he’d like to get cleaned up. It’s always a hot shower when he comes home, soothing his muscles from the hours of fighting and swinging around.
You can see the bruises and cuts on his skin but it always made him happy when you kissed every single one of them, it made him feel better about himself which is why he enjoyed your touch so much.
Depending on the day (or night), if Miguel had an awful night, then instead of a shower, it’ll be a hot bath. You leaned back as he layed in your arms. He used to think taking baths were childish but he now enjoys them. It’s your favorite because you get to pamper him, especially washing his hair.
Then came drying off. He’d usually leave his hair dripping wet but sometimes he lets you towel dry his hair, maybe style it. Then changing clothes.
Then came his wounds. Bandaging them up as carefully as possible so you don’t cause Miguel more pain. You then kiss all of them again when you finish, “All done!” You smile.
Next, it’s either staying up even later or going straight to bed. If he’s feeling hungry then he’d make food for the two of you, if he doesn’t feel tired then it’s a movie night.
But in the end they always end the same. Holding each other tightly. Basically the face-to-face embrace.
He always needs to know that you’re with him. There were nights where he awoke without you there, he immediately panics. Which is why if you need to use the bathroom, you’re gonna have to wake him up to tell him where you’re going.
Movie nights are interesting. He likes picking out horror movies so he can feel you holding onto him for safety. He says he hates rom coms but he loves them deep down. Then there’s comedy movies when he or you needs a laugh.
Nights where he decides to cook, he likes to share food from his heritage and it always makes him smile when you’re willing to learn how to make it.
But one thing he hates is that if he has work that still needs to be done, he tries to finish as quickly as possible but he’s not gonna lie, there are some nights where he forgets to take care of himself.
That’s when you come in, having Lyla remind him to drink water, coming into his home office to bring him some food and maybe cuddle on his lap for a few minutes before getting back to work.
But this time, when he’s finished, he goes straight to you. Too tired to even change his clothes, he immediately falls asleep.
It is nights like these where Miguel finally feels at peace.
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© 2033 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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starkowswife · 6 months
Text
R.C / HEADCANNONS
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pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
summary: what it would be like to date THE Rafe Cameron.
a/n: first ever written work so sorry if it isn’t great! please give me feedback of what i could do better in the future. also sarah and rafe are actually quite close in this.
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, sorry if there’s errors. a bit of nsfw at the end. mentions of fighting and implied towards death but only for a little bit and not at all descriptive. let me know if there should be any others!
SFW:
- he would spoil you so much.
- he sees your shein wishlist? he’s buying it all.
- you grab a shirt to look at it when shopping with him? he’s grabbing it in your size and even checking for it in other colours.
- you could even so much as be glancing around a shop and your eyes linger a little too long on one item and he’s getting it for you.
- even when you tell him you feel bad having him spend this much money on you he’ll just laugh and say “my sweet girl deserves everything.”
- he’d drop everything for you if you needed him.
- you call him crying? he could be in the middle of an important deal and he’s leaving to come get you.
- he’d fight, and probably kill, for you.
- if a guys getting a little too close at a party and making you uncomfortable Rafe is there immediately.
- he’d pull the guy away from you and just start laying punches after punches into his face until someone just drags the other guy out of the party so it doesn’t get too out of hands.
- then he’d hug you and leave kisses on your forehead while asking if you wanna leave.
- you’d always be at his house.
- which means you’d see Wheezie a lot and she loves you and is always asking you to do things with her.
- it kind of annoys Rafe because he wants to spend every second with you and Wheezie’s ruining that.
- but he also finds it really sweet.
- you’d also be best friends with Sarah.
- as soon as her brother announced he actually is with someone and not just having flings with anyone and everyone she was so excited.
- Sarah knew you had to be amazing to make her brother settle down.
- and you and her got along instantly.
- he’d actually be very affectionate.
- always having his hands on you in one way or another.
- also because he’s very jealous he’d need everyone to know you’re his and his only.
- but he’d always reassure you, especially when overthinking.
- you’d catch him staring at you and you’d ask why, thinking maybe you have something on your face or you look bad but he’d just say, “can’t i look at my gorgeous girlfriend?”
- someone would make a comment about you two saying they’re surprised someone like you could pull someone like Rafe and he’d be furious.
- he’d deal with them and then immediately pick you up and you guys would be leaving.
- as soon as you two were alone he’d reassure you by saying something like “you’re perfect baby, they’re just jealous they don’t have what we have.”
NSFW:
- as mentioned earlier, he gets very jealous.
- and he gets jealous easily.
- so if he sees a guy checking you out while you’re in public he grabs you and puts his hands on your ass while making out with you so the boy knows your Rafe’s.
- he’d then take you home to remind you you’re his.
- or even just in the car if he really couldn’t wait.
- “you’re mine. you know that right?”
- “say it baby, say you’re only mine.”
- knowing damn well you couldn’t talk when he was thrusting into you like that.
- but you had to try anyway for him.
- he’d be big on hickeys.
- he’d like marking you so everyone knows, you are his, and he’d love when you do the same.
- if you still had your v card he’d make sure to be really nice and gentle the first few times and slowly start getting tougher and introducing you to new things.
- always down for a quickie, it doesn’t matter where you are.
- he’d seriously just love you unconditionally and everyone knows he’s whipped for you.
1K notes · View notes
viennakarma · 1 month
Text
My dearest friend and enemy (2)
PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.1k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS
You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.
“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”
You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.
After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.
“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.
“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.
“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.
“I talked to Fernando and he-”
“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.
You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.
The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.
You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.
“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.
“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.
“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.
“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”
He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.
Then you blacked out.
When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.
You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 
Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.
“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.
“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.
“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”
“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.
“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.
“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.
“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.
You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.
But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.
“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.
“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”
“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”
You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.
The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.
“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.
“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.
“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”
Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 
That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.
You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.
But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.
There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.
You turned down the offer from Sauber.
The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.
“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.
“Negative, protect his position.”
“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”
“Negative, team orders.”
You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.
Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.
The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.
“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.
“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”
You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.
You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.
A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.
The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.
You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.
One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.
You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.
You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.
He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.
And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.
After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.
You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-
“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.
Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.
Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.
“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.
You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.
Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.
Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.
During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.
It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.
“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”
“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.
You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.
It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.
After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.
“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.
“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”
You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.
“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”
You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.
It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.
You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.
As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.
Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.
After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.
“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.
“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”
“What?” He frowned, confused.
“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”
Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.
You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.
But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.
Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.
After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.
“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”
You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.
“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”
“I’m going to Ferrari.”
And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.
Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.
One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.
“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.
“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.
“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”
“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.
You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.
Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.
Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-
Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.
Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.
Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.
Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.
Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.
After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.
When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.
It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.
“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.
But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.
That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.
Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.
When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.
“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.
“What?” You paused.
“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.
“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”
“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”
“What do you want? Why are you here?”
Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.
“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.
“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.
“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”
“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”
“We could restart. Try again-”
“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”
There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.
“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.
“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.
“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.
It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.
Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.
When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.
He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.
You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.
When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.
Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.
“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”
There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.
“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.
Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.
“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”
You turned around and walked away under the applause.
Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.
“Nena…”
It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 
“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.
“What?”
“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”
“No, I would not-”
“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 
“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”
“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”
“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.
“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.
“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”
“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”
“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”
“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”
“What new stuff?”
“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.
With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.
Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.
You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.
“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”
“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.
Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.
“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”
Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.
As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.
“We will be alright.”
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starvity · 9 months
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— ☆ sides zb1 only show when they’re with you
gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)
genre: fluff, drabble // warnings: insecurities, jealousy, a bit angsty for gyuv and yujin
author’s note: this was such an interesting request and i had so much fun thinking about what to put for each member!! (★ω★)/ [requested♡]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong - his funny side
okay i’m not saying jiwoong isn’t funny usually but he would be the FUNNIEST when he’s with you. he's most of the time someone kind of serious and reserved in public settings but then he would suddenly whisper a funny comment (that only you heard) and you would have to fight internally to not burst out laughing. some other time, you’re just getting ready to sleep, already cuddled up in the blanket while waiting for jiwoong, when his silly side would appear. like he would be brushing his teeth then he would start running around and doing some handstands on you idk???? he’s just a silly guy
ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao - his protective side
hao loves himself a good princess treatment. he would always use his puppy eyes to get whatever he wants from you and you both know it, that you can never win. and that dynamic works for your relationship!! but then sometimes you appear in front of hao looking a bit more tired, stressed, or sick than usual and it’s like something switches in his brain. he will treat you like absolute royalty, that being by doing the chores, giving you a massage, cooking for you, cuddling with you? ANYTHING YOU WANT!!! that always happens when you’re away from him too, walking home or coming back late from a party. he will come pick you up whenever he can or at least ask you to facetime him.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin - his jealous side
i am certain that not a single person on this planet can dislike this man. he is loved by everyone and everyone knows him. when you two go out on a date he would usually be the one to meet like 5 of his friends on the way. but today it was your turn to randomly meet one of your old high school friends in a store. naturally, they come to hug you and keep an arm around your waist while you two catch up on each other’s life. suddenly, you feel hanbin’s arm slide around your shoulders as he pulls you closer. "i’m their boyfriend, by the way." he says, with a smirk on his face and his eyes turning dark.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew - his insecure side
matthew is your biggest fan. he will always hype you up, telling you that you’re the most beautiful and amazing person he’s ever met. he will brag about you to his friends and talk about you to his family all the time. but when you do the same for him, he immediately gets shy, saying that it isn’t true and that you’re doing too much. you frown, repeating that he’s just perfect and he shakes his head again. you cup his jaw with your hands to make him look at you. "you.are.amazing.matt." you repeat, kissing his lips between every word. he lowers his gaze, a pinkish color settling on his cheeks "you really think so?"
ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae - his calm side
dating taerae can be a bit exhausting sometimes (especially if you’re introverted) because this man YELLS. like it’s not even that he does it on purpose most of the time, he just has a really prominent voice. he would be playing video games online with his friends and he wouldn’t even hear how loud he is screaming because of his headphones. you throw a pillow at him, monitoring a "silence" motion with your index finger as you were trying to take a nap. after mouthing a sorry, taerae delicately turns off his computer, puts his headphones aside and takes his guitar before sitting next to you on the bed. he strokes your hair, apologising with now the calmest voice before he starts singing you to sleep with his sweet voice.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky - his attentive side
you don't even try to figure out what's on ricky's mind sometimes. he would start talking about some random subject, then starts talking about another, then another... he himself would be distracted with his own words when he's talking to you that he would need to get quiet, blink a few times and let out a "what?" before laughing and trying to focus again. he can be easily distracted but he is also really observant, especially around you. one day he started talking about all the little habits you have that he finds endearing and you realised that you weren't even aware that you had half of these.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin - his serious side
one thing about gyuvin is that he's always going to make fun of people. and you being his partner gets the WORST treatment. he was on his phone when he suddenly laughs, shoving it in your face. you were horrified when you saw the ugliest picture of you sleeping and started begging him to delete it. he continues laughing as you try to snatch the device out of his hands but, again, he was too tall. without even you knowing, tears roll down your cheeks and the expression on gyuvin's face completely changes. he takes you in his arms, stroking you back and apologising over and over again. later in the evening, you two had a deep conversation and he asks to set boundaries because he never wants to hurt you ever again. (he won't stop making fun of you though, as far as you allow him <3)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook - his cute side
mister giant baby thinks that his role is to protect you no matter what. he thinks he always need to be tough, and that you're probably just dating him to open jars and carry heavy stuff for you??? "can i be the big spoon today?" you ask, opening your arms for gunwook who had just showered after coming back from practice. he looks at you confused, at first disapproving because blah blah he's the big boy here before sighing and placing his head on your chest. you suddenly see his eyes soften at the sudden contact as you pull him closer. gunwook hums contently and closes his eyes. "not so bad , after all?" you chuckle while stroking his cheek with your thumb. "shut up~" he whines in a cute voice, hiding his face in your neck.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin - his emotional side
you know that it is not easy to read yujin like an open book. and since he's also pretty new to the whole relationship thing, he finds it quite hard to express his emotions, especially around you. you were studying in yujin's room while he was practicing his vocals in the bathroom (the acoustic is good, apparently). and you were so focused on studying for your next test that you didn't hear nor see the door open a minute ago. "can i talk to you?" yujin's voice startles you from across the room and you gulp nervously, inviting him to sit next to you. he suddenly leans his head on your shoulder and your hand naturally comes up to pet his head. "i feel like i haven't been doing really good lately, with my vocals and dancing... and like i don't know if i'm even good enough..." you listen attentively to his worries and reassures him that he's doing great and that you're proud of him. (might have teared up a little).
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vixialuvs · 1 month
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୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ PRINCESS TREATMENT WITH WON ! ⋄ 𓍯
୨୧ pairing . yang jungwon x reader
୨୧ genre . fluff / hcs / suggestive
୨୧ synopsis . hcs of the things wonie would do to make you feel like a princess !
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✶ CARRYING YOUR SHOES FOR YOU WHEN YOUR FEET HURT !
﹒dates are frequent in your household, he takes you out on them whenever he gets the time, whether it’s a home date or he booked a reservation at a very in demand restaurant. you wanted to look really pretty tonight, since he wanted to take you out to dinner at a new five star italian restaurant, mill on the river, and decided to wear a pair of cute, but undeniably uncomfortable ysl heels.
﹒you look adorable, but obviously, on the long walk back to the car, your feet are starting to kill you. he almost immediately notices and stops in his tracks, turning around to pull off your heels. he picks you up, able to carry you with one hand, carrying your heels in the other.
﹒he pouts, saying you didn’t have to wear the heels just cause you wanted to look good for him, and gently scolds you on wearing some more comfortable shoes next time. he sets you in the passenger seat and drives the two of you home, unknowing of the great gift he’s about to get when they get home.
✶ GIVING THE BEST AFTERCARE !
﹒despite the fact he’s usually gentle during your times of intimacy together, there’s just some days that he is in a horrible mood, maybe he had a bad practice or got into a fight with one of his members, no matter what it was, he comes home in a huff and smashes his lips onto yours. you, being the sweet girlfriend you are, let him have his way with you, letting him manhandle you into whatever positions he wants and be as rough as he wants.
﹒after he gets out all of his anger from the sex, he collapses into your arms from letting out all of his pent up frustration, picking you up with heavy arms and carrying you into the bathroom. he prepares a bubble bath into your jacuzzi shaped tub, setting up rose petals and candle lights. he washes your hair and gives you a massage, kissing your wet skin all over. he loves you so much and you end up falling asleep in his warm embrace.
✶ KNOWING YOUR PERIOD CYCLE BY HEART !
﹒jungwon has your period cycle on a tracker app on his phone. he checks it regularly, and when he sees your time of the month is coming up, he runs out to buy all sorts of snacks and tampons for you, knowing exactly what you crave every time.
﹒when you do start your period, he’s constantly at your every beck and call, fetching whatever you need or just serving as a human heating pad, rubbing at your stomach to ease your cramps as you sit on his lap.
﹒you spend those 7 days together mostly, just laying in bed and watching tv. he’ll even miss practice for you. every night you go to sleep with a warm kiss on the forehead or cheek and every morning you wake up with the same feeling of his fluttering kisses on your face.
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@vixialuvs ‘24. don’t steal my work ! reblogs and likes are always appreciated, thank you for reading my dears !
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gatorlovebot · 8 months
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nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3
landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.
you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.
upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?
he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”
you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”
and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.
some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.
sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.
sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.
he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”
and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”
“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.
things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”
he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”
hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.
its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.
you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.
“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”
for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”
“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”
“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”
“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”
with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”
“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”
you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.
there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”
“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”
“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”
“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”
and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.
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jujutsubaby · 1 month
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🍒 only fans boyfriend!toji headcanons 🍒
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☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: blurb in which toji is your bf who helps you take your photos and videos for your onlyfans ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! dirty talking, nudes, sex work, penetrative sex, idk what else lol ☆ a/n: i'm having some serious toji brain rot send help
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bf!toji who first thinks of the idea of you doing an only fans after taking his millionth video of him pounding into you. he won’t lie, initially it was because he was tight on some cash and didn’t wanna borrow from you again, but he was convinced you could be some insane OF celebrity. “i’m not sure about it, toji. i don’t want randos to see my face…” you surmise. “c’mon, we’ll cover your face, doll, if that’s what you’re worried about. i swear, we could be raking in thousands from this.” the prospect of coming across a large amount of money like that was enticing…
bf!toji who suggests that you start out simple. “maybe just a shot of you wearing somethin’ cute for the camera, i dunno.” after work one day, you both go to a lingerie store and pick out a sheer pink babydoll slip on, with silky bows on the shoulders. at home, you fish out an old mid 2000s digital camera from the garage and present it to toji. “you’re gonna be my sexy photographer, right?” you tease, as you change into the babydoll slip dress. 
bf!toji who totally sucks at taking photos at first, but is a quick learner as he learns all your best angles and poses. turns out when money is on the line, he’s a hard worker after all. pictures of you sluttily sticking out your tongue, and the dress straps falling off your shoulders send toji into a frenzy, and you both take a quick sex break before going back to taking the photos.
bf!toji doesn’t know how to edit photos for shit so you use the minimal photoshop you know to spruce up your makeshift boudoir shoot. not to toot your own horn, but you kinda ate those pics up, and toji can’t get enough of it. at work, he’s partially distracted, fighting off enemies with half a brain as the other half is trying not to get turned on (one time, he did get turned on while fighting and it was awkward to say the least. the guy’s dead now so toji doesn’t really care). 
bf!toji who creates the OF account for you because you’re feeling too shy to do so. the interface is confusing for both of you at first, but you guys get the hang of it pretty easily. you post the boudoir photoshoot and immediately close the laptop because you’re terrified of it flopping. “the damage of no one subscribing to me, toji, i would die,” you say earnestly, feeling nauseous. “if no one subscribes to you, i’ll fuck the memory out of you, don’t worry,” he says nonchalantly as he picks a random show on netflix to watch. he’s not bothered by this even one bit and you think it’s because he doesn’t care but really, it’s because he’s that confident.
bf!toji who wakes up before you the next morning for work and quickly checks to see if your photos gained any traction. “holy shit, doll, wake up!” he practically pushes you off the bed as he shakes you and you groggily wake up, irked at the intrusion of your slumber. “toji, i swear to god i’ll kill y-” “you just got 300 subscribers overnight, shut up.” he says, cutting you off and meeting your lips with a tender kiss. you quickly pull back, eyes widening at the news. 
bf!toji who reassures you that you’re only gonna blow up more, and that’s why you need to post more photos and videos. it starts off small: simple photoshoots and more slutty lingerie. you arch your back as toji gets an ass shot with your camera. he slaps it hard, leaving a red handprint mark and snaps a couple more photos. 
bf!toji who encourages you to start doing videos after reaching over 1k subscribers. you do a little strip tease/dance while toji films, but the first time you do it, toji folds almost immediately and has you pinned under him. you try again the next day, and graduate to longer more explicit videos – fingering yourself, using toys, and live streaming. toji buys you a couple cute masquerade masks to use, too. 
bf!toji who loves it when you get donations during streams. he ends up creating an amazon wishlist for you of things you guys could really use around the house. he can’t remember the last time he bought you lingerie anymore because your donations would usually cover that cost. that being said, he always chooses lingerie for you. he knows exactly what other horny guys are looking for on girls. “doll, i know crotchless panties are awful but i know the male gaze – they don’t give a fuck. look, okay, i’ll buy you that one piece too, don’t give me that look.” he says to you as you throw in a bunch of lingerie of your liking in the cart. 
bf!toji who finally decides to join you in front of the camera, giving your fans what they wanted. the way he sees it, he fucks you senseless for free every night anyway, might as well get paid for it. toji makes a show to tear your nice lingerie off you and leaves visible marks in your skin from his touch as he pounds into you or bites your neck. 
bf!toji who joins you on your livestreams, and they usually end with you bent over a desk, skirt hiked up, and his arousal deep inside you. “you guys think she deserves to cum?” he asks the chat, feeling you clench against him. he knows you're close, and it turns you on knowing it’s out of your control on whether or not you get to feel a release. your fans love your pornographic and lewd moans, but with toji fucking you, you don’t even have to act for them to come out of your mouth naturally. speaking of your mouth, toji especially loves when you have a masquerade mask on while he makes your little throat gag. you love it when he tests your gag reflex on camera in front of an audience, and everyone can tell when they see you soaked through your panties.
bf!toji who surprises you by taking you on a lavish vacation to bora bora when you reach over 10k subscribers. “we built this shit together,” he says, talking about your OF fame and money. you can’t remember the last time you guys worried about paying rent, and he wanted to do something special for his slutty little doll. he got one of those seaside huts surrounded by a private deck. your breath is taken away by the surprise, and toji wastes no time getting all your clothes off and getting you into the water. the makeout session turns into him fingering you underwater as he pushes your bikini to the side. after coming all over his fingers, you give him a handjob under the water, and toji has to quickly climb out of the pool so he doesn’t cum inside it and has to request a clean up on the very first day. 
bf!toji who fucks you more times than you can count in the water, on the bed, in the infinity pool, that one time super discretely under the blanket in the beach. you bring up the idea of filming a little here and there on vacation. “what? the grind never stops,” you say jokingly as you set up the camera on the tripod in front of the bed. he surprises you by using some silk ribbons to tie your hands back while he licks and kisses every inch of your body, focusing especially on your sensitive nipples erect for the camera. he blindfolds you, hands still tied back while he eats you out. the electrifying sensations are amplified in the darkness of the blindfold, and you make an absolute mess on the sheets and his mouth. 
bf!toji who uses the last night of your trip there to convince you to film one more video, this time on the private infinity pool outside your hut. you come out with a black strappy bikini with a sheer babydoll cover up. “don’t take off your clothes just yet, doll. just come in the water.” he commands, and you slowly get into the water. his silhouette looks ethereal in the golden hour of the sunset as you approach him. he cradles your jaw and kisses you deeply and passionately.  
bf!toji pulls away from you and guides you to the edge of the pool that stares out to the pink sunset and the turquoise ocean. “what? gonna fuck me while looking at the sunset like a stupid romantic?” you jeer, poking his chest. he chuckles nervously. “eventually…”
bf!toji who pulls a small black box from behind him and opens it to reveal a big shiny diamond ring. tears start freely falling down your cheeks and you don’t even hear what toji is saying (you feel a little bad – he must’ve prepped this speech for a while but you were far too emotional to process anything). all you do is nod your head vigorously as he gently puts the ring on finger. a perfect fit. and it glistens just perfectly in the dimming sun.
fiance!toji who then fucks you into the sunset like a stupid romantic.
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tornado1992 · 4 months
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No one knows where Sonic lives.
Even in his so called world renowed hero status, there’s way too little that the general public knows about Sonic The Hedgehog, sure, they know what his favorite food is, they know the names of his friends, and they know when his birthday is, but they don’t know where is he from, how is he so fast, or what is his reason to fight.
They know about most of the times he has saved the world, but they don’t know why his shoes don’t get burned by his speed, they know he can turn into a god-like glowy golden being, but they don’t know how exactly the magical jewels that do that work, they know he’s unstoppable, but they don’t know why.
Most people don’t care that much about that kind of information, even if he’s a hero, that’s his own business, even heroes need privacy; but then there’s the curiosity, the enigma, the mystery, most of those questions will be left without a solid answer, but there’s a few that should have definitive one.
Where does someone who can run around the whole globe in a matter of hours live? There’s a lot of theories.
Sonic has enough fame to have several fan clubs all around the world, and between all those fan clubs there’s been a lingering interest in the enigma of where does sonic live, between all the other questions this one is the one that gets the most possible answers, considering factors like his speed, his well known crave for adventure, his love for nature, all of it could make the difference between the right answer and the wrong answer.
At certain point, the curiosity reaches to more general public apart from the fanatism prone, and when in opportunity to talk to him, a lot of people start asking him the same question: “where do you live?” the answers all equal and all different at the same time “right here in the same world as you” “it varies from time to time” “I don’t think you could visit me”
The vagueness, the confusing contradictions, the evasion of the subject; he’s doing this on purpose. They might not know a lot about the blue speedster, but now this sole data needs to be known.
They start asking Sonic’s acquaintances instead of the hedgehog himself, they know they’re not getting an answer out of him at this point, and if anyone could have one, his friends should know it. Turns out that they don’t know.
Most of his friends being more annoyed with the fact that not even they know where he lives than about the people sticking their noses to his friend’s business was a surprise to the masses, and underwhelming, backtracking, frustrating surprise.
There’s an anonymous user online who affirms that not even the hedgehog’s arch nemesis knows where Sonic lives. Reliable sources support the statement.
The waters of nonsense gossip calm down after some time, but the question still remains, left to be more of general curiosity than lingering mystery.
A random day in a random town, a news program happens to be live outside when the speedster passes by and stops to smell the flowers around the area, the reporters ask him for a small interview, he says they have till he finishes picking up enough flowers for a crown.
They ask the same question everyone has asked for quite some time, just a different word, “Sonic, where is your home?”
Apparently the accidental rephrasing change is what finally gets it, as the speedster just says “right now? should be at mystic ruins”
He runs off immediately, the reporters left speechless, the program still on air on TV’s and the web, and the world going wild.
They finally got a straight, solid, specific answer. “That can’t be true” “but it can” “it’s logical” “it’s not” “he must’ve been joking” “he sounded serious” and more and more discussions take place around that single interview, the fan clubs are theorizing again, the general public is now more curious, and the official news from all over the globe need to confirm this by themselves.
So they ask again.
A full week later, a different city in a different country, different news reporters don’t even bother to ask him for an interview, they just run to him the moment they see the blue blur pass by and ask him again “Sonic, where is your home?!” He yells his answer without stopping:
“Last time I checked was in Central City”.
“It’s a contradiction” “then he was joking before” “he might change where he lives weekly” “we need more proof” “that was way too specific again”.
A different continent, two days later, a group of kids manage to record him when he greets them from the other side of a mountain, they ask “Where is your home?!” He yells back “I’m not sure at the moment!”
The confusion only grows, now no one knows if he’s genuinely giving true answers or full ass lying, it would be logical for him to do either. The curiosity becomes a mystery again, and people are legitimately trying to track all the locations he has mentioned to find out what is this all about. Some people even try to track him down. They try.
A whole month later, there’s a celebration near sunset city, a commemoration of some sorts, there’s been a lot of battles in way too little time so people just try to think about the party rather than the motive for it. Sonic attends the celebration along some of his friends.
A local news channel manages to reach him at the chili dog stand where he is waiting for his food while talking to the two tailed fox everyone knows is his best friend. They don’t mean to interrupt, but these opportunities are limited.
They ask the same question, the same word change that they know works: “Sonic, where is your home?”
The blue blur hangs an arm around the kit’s shoulder in a half hug as he grins widely, he says loudly: “right now, it’s right here!”
This time his home was with him.
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disneyprincemuke · 7 months
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midnights, 2 * mv1
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you were in the middle of eating dinner alone when you got the feeling of getting punched in the gut
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: i specialise in angst and heartbreak so B)
notes: man i shouldve just written this when my breakup was fresh, because when i tell you my heart was BROKE… (i love oversharing)
(prev) // (next)
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your eyes are glued to your phone in your hand, as the other works the chopsticks to grab yourself some noodles. the tv is switched on in the background for some background noise.
the deafening silence in your apartment has haunted you for the past weeks since the breakup. to battle it, the tv is always turned on in your presence to keep you grounded.
you’ve been on instagram scrolling for about 5 minutes when a strange sensation hits you in your stomach. your throat feels weird, and your arms slowly start to feel numb.
you put the chopsticks down onto the plate that sat peacefully on your coffee table. you take a deep breath and lay your phone down on the carpet, looking around the emptiness of your apartment.
it’s the sudden realisation that you almost didn’t have a place to stay after the breakup. you had sublet the apartment your sister when you moved into max’s, and since she got engaged to her boyfriend and bought their own place, you’ve thought about putting it back on the market.
good thing you hadn’t.
it’s the weird void you felt in your chest sitting here all by yourself. being alone has never felt so definite until now.
the silence that creeps up on you every waking moment you’re in here miserably haunts you. you miss the sounds of clicking from max’s driving simulator, or the random clangs of things when the cats were in a mood, and the mews that conveyed dissatisfaction from the food bowl being empty.
your apartment is barely a shell of the home you’ve gotten used to.
you come home to nothing every day. no cats with their affectionate head rubs against your feet, and absolutely no loving boyfriend at the door whose hands cup your cheeks while he greets you with a loving kiss to your lips.
“-max verstappen scores at least three points in the sprint on saturday evening in losail, he will be crowned 2023’s champion.”
the mention of the name makes you lift your head to the tv. there’s your ex-boyfriend in all his glory, spraying champagne and having fun.
being this hung up about the breakup feels almost illegal; like you had the least right out of everyone to be so heartbroken, seeing as you did initiate it.
your phone lights up, notifications from alexandra and kika flooding your lock screen. you admire their determination — you haven’t picked up their calls and responded to text messages in almost 4 days.
you sigh and turn your head, eyes landing on the framed picture of you with the cats. you miss them terribly, almost as much as you miss the man himself. but it’s way more complicated than just dropping by into your old home to visit the cats.
victoria has mentioned to you that it’s no problem if you do in the week, since max is away for a race. you just couldn’t handle the thought to even be in that apartment. you’d just miss him way too much, and you would fold immediately.
but the constant fights that occurred towards the end of your relationship keeps reminding you to stay away. it’s unfair to keep holding on when it hurts you both.
your eyes linger on the frame that’s faced down on your entertainment centre. you have the picture in it memorised: you and max in abu dhabi under the fireworks when he won his first championship.
it was when he had first said he loved you.
how did it dwindle down so quickly? you could have sworn max was everything you wanted in a person. how did his little quirks you once loved about him be the same thing that drew you away?
you glance at the tv screen, the reporter moving on to other news. you’re holding your own hands back from chucking the tv remote at it.
“oh, god,” you mutter to yourself. the tv screen blacks out when you press the button on the remote.
you rub your forehead in frustration, feeling a headache creeping up from the back of your head. it’s the result from crying right before dinner.
the doorbell stops you from grabbing the faced down picture frame to hug— a habit you’ve gotten used to when you and max were separated due to work.
you tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing as you scramble to your feet. you push yourself off the floor and basically drag yourself over without asking who it is.
though, there’s a slight hope sparking up in your chest. could it be?
you unlock the door quickly, a small smile still stretching on your face when you realise who it is. it’s alexandra and kika, plastic bags decorating their hands and arms as they smile sadly at you.
“you really didn’t have to,” you frown, stepping aside and gesturing for them to come in.
“we can’t leave you all by yourself,” alexandra smiles, making a sharp turn for the kitchen.
you follow behind the pair, plastic bags laid down on the table slowly. it’s only then you realise the overnight bags on their shoulders, now neatly piled by the couch.
kika pulls out a bottle from a plastic bag, presenting it to you from where she is with a grin. “i am hoping you like red.”
“if you don’t,” alexandra pauses, taking out another bottle from another, “we have white wine.” she puts it down onto the table, slowly taking out bags of chips and tubs of ice cream. “but if you don’t feel like drinking, we have junk food.”
“we can eat our body weight,” kika smiles at you.
you frown, tears welling in your eyes at their thoughtfulness. “thank you,” you manage to huff out as your tears start falling out of your eyes. “this means so much to me.”
asking max for a breakup was never part of the plan that night. you still don’t even know where it came from because you know that you still want to be with him.
but when his silence filled the tiny room, eyes barely being able to meet yours, you knew that you basically had your answer. you didn’t fight for it any more after seeing the lifeless eyes that once used to be so bright.
maybe he had been beating around the bush. maybe he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to ask you for a breakup.
maybe you asking for it brought him relief, freeing him from the shackles of your deteriorating relationship.
in the flight back home, you were afraid that no one could ever love you as much as max did. but here are your friends, coming over unannounced to take care of you, despite the fact that you’ve been ignoring them.
kika and alexandra engulf you in a hug, one hand patting your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “we’re always here for you.”
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