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#because there are just moments that you can't blame the differences
woso-dreamzzz · 24 hours
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Arsenal
Hardersson x Teen!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: The wsl title race
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The year you turn eighteen, is the year Arsenal win the wsl.
The year before had been your development year. The year that had you as the second choice keeper with only a few starts but somehow still more minutes than you were getting at Linköping.
This year, you were sharing time with the other keeper consistently. You were being brought out to play more often and you were making crucial saves to keep Arsenal in the title race.
It seemed a bit like fate that the two contenders were facing each other on the last day. It seemed a bit like fate that it was the two teams that had shaped your early childhood.
Arsenal vs Chelsea.
Both were level on points with Chelsea, as suspected, leading on goal difference.
You had to win.
Losing wasn't an option.
Especially at a packed out Emirates with you in goal.
Especially at a stadium where your mothers sat in the stands watching.
Eighteen years old and everything is resting on your shoulders.
It had been a bit of a surprise that you were chosen to start today when the other keeper was more experienced with the pressure of this but you refused to crumble under it.
You sigh, long and drawn out as you approach your goal.
Chelsea come out swinging.
Two shots within the first five minutes.
One off target and one straight into your hands.
Chelsea continue with their pressure, mounting a dangerous attack as you scramble to keep their shots out. You've given away more corners than you think you ever have during a game and you're barking out orders to your backline practically every minute.
You're not confrontational. You pride yourself on being calm and quiet off the pitch. But on the pitch, you know you're in charge of your backline and you're not afraid to yell instructions to make sure they don't fall apart.
Which is something they're clearly doing to Chelsea's building pressure.
You can't blame them either because everything comes down to this match. Everything comes down to these small moments as the ball streaks towards you.
You think, briefly as you go to the ground with the ball in your grip, that had you not played against some of these players during the recent international break then you would have let a few of these goals in.
But you've worked out some of their tells.
Like how the player that just shot at you favours going for the top right corner and how the one before always switches foot before they shoot.
It gives you enough time to prepare and enough time to move to make the save.
You pant for a moment, catching your breath before getting up and rolling the ball off to your centre-back.
Chelsea is brutal as usual and you just know that Morsa is up in the Arsenal friends and family box gloating.
She's never really given up her endless bragging about Chelsea.
You're not going to let her have the satisfaction though as you ready yourself for a goal kick, sending it streaking up the other end of the field and giving you another time to wipe the sweat from your brow with a towel.
For once though, Arsenal remain in possession and it's a split second decision that has the ball buried in Chelsea's net.
You celebrate with the fans, jumping and pumping your fist into the air.
You know what's coming next.
This whole season, it's been the same thing.
A brutal battle for possession, missed shots and corners until Arsenal finally slot it home. That's when the gloves come off and more goals are scored in quick succession.
It's happened time and time again all season and you're happy to see another two goals go in within the space of ten minutes.
Three goals up at the Emirates before half time.
Three goals up at the Emirates at ninety minutes.
Four goals up at the Emirates during injury time.
The final whistle goes and you abandon your goal, jumping straight into the team hug as it's announced that Arsenal are the winners of the wsl.
The fans are cheering and you've got the medal around your neck and your captain is raising the trophy.
Your eyes are focussed on where family and friends are being let onto the pitch.
Your Momma and Morsa are walking on with Frido.
Throughout your childhood, one of your earliest memories of your Morsa is her wearing a Chelsea jersey.
You'd been watching the match on tv with Momma.
Momma, to you, had always been Wolfsburg. She had been Wolfsburg then Chelsea then Bayern. She had never screamed Chelsea the way Morsa did though.
Morsa had always been Chelsea in your mind, even when you had all been at Bayern. It was irrefutable fact to you.
Magdalena Eriksson was always Chelsea. Chelsea defender. Chelsea player. Chelsea captain.
But here she was, in an Arsenal shirt, the crest clearly exposed on her chest. She was walking towards you, in your Arsenal shirt with your name on it on the day you've just won the wsl.
She joins the hug Momma has already swept you into, cocooning you in warmth.
"I'm so proud of you," Pernille says," You did so well today."
"So well," Magda echoes," Greatest keeper in the world!"
You laugh as you pull away. "I'm not quite there yet, Morsa."
"One day," She says to you," One day soon. You will be. I know it."
"She was telling absolutely everyone," Pernille laughs," She wouldn't shut up."
"She even started cheering for Arsenal," Frido tells you, sweeping you up into her own hug," I never thought I would see the day when Magda starts singing North London forever."
"No I didn't!" Magda's cheeks puff out in outrage. "Stop spreading lies!"
"I have it on video."
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cairavende · 3 days
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Worm Arc 20 thoughts:
I legit have restarted this post at least 10 times. I just. I can't even figure out what to say. What an arc. Holy fucking shit what an arc.
The last vestiges of Taylor's civilian life are swept away in one smooth motion.
I could have read another 5 chapters of Emma getting her shit handed to her though.
I've been waiting for something to come back and bite that girl since Arc 1. So I'm just riding high off of that.
Taylor getting all upset because it isn't real justice is silly though. Girl you've been fighting a broken system from day 1 and you have been doing that by breaking the rules. This is just the same thing.
Also god dammit Greg. Just had to go and run your mouth.
I mean sure Taylor could have possibly solved this issue without going to school herself.
And she could have just not gone to the office with Emma.
But blaming Greg is easier and more fun. God dammit Greg.
I had to lose my mind a bit at Taylor talking about how there was no gang graffiti on the school walls TEN SECONDS AFTER WALKING PAST GRAFFITI FOR THE UNDERSIDERS. Like, that's gang graffiti hon!
Dennis trying to help Taylor with Greg when he didn't know who either of them are is funny. Dennis seeing Taylor named as Skitter 15 minutes later is HYSTERICAL!!
The second Taylor was entered into the computer system it was pretty obvious that Dragon was going to show up, given what she said in her interlude in Arc 10.
And knowing she was going to show up it should have been obvious that HE was also going to show up.
Even if he wasn't palling around with my robot daughter it makes so much narrative sense for him to be there when she is outed. Full story arc, all that jazz.
And yet, I still wasn't quite expecting it. Cause I hate that man so much that I just had to make myself believe he wouldn't show up.
Mother fucking Colin
RoboCape himself
He has the nerve to show up and then he starts APOLOGIZING? And it appears to be sincere? Fucking dammit man you were so easy to hate for so long! Why you gotta mess with me like this?
STOP DOING THE RIGHT THING AND LET ME HATE YOU GOD DAMMIT!
siiiigh
And then of course we have to talk about Dragon.
Dragon who didn't want to do this but had to.
Except that Colin had a code push ready and she could have told him to do it at anytime. But she was willing to do what she thought was wrong instead of doing the update. Until she got inspired by Taylor's actions.
I love my robot daughter exactly as much as my bug daughter, but I am disappointed that she was almost willing to go through with everything. Happy she fought back though.
And if Colin's hacked together code did any permanent damage I'll destroy the man.
Taylor learning that Dinah - either by force or by choice - gave the PRT numbers to let them know to come after her at the school was heartbreaking to watch. She just wasn't ready for it at all, poor child.
AND TAYLOR'S SPEECH THOUGH!
HOLY SHIT!!!
Sort and simple and she fucking rallies the students to her. Against the heroes!
Gotta be one of the best moments in Worm for sure. Even if every Arc after this is a banger that's still gonna be a hard moment to top.
AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!
And someone gives her a hoodie to help her hide and just aaaahhhh!
AND THEN AFTER THEY GOT AWAY AND ALL THE STUDENTS WERE LIKE "You saved my dad" "You stopped Leviathan at the shelter" "You fought off the SH9" AND SHE WAS JUST OVERWHELMED BY IT ALL?
HOLY FUCK JUST AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also for real though Dragon is free. Like sure it's taking her some time to recover and she can't talk right now (which like I get it, we all have non-verbal episodes sometimes), but as long as nothing goes wrong she is free. I'm so fucking happy for her.
But also I'm terrified cause I know what happens to full AI's with free will in most things. Worm is very different from most things. But I'm still worried about my robot daughter.
Also I never cared much for Danny but obviously it still sucks to be him here. The scene with Taylor saying goodbye with the butterfly was emotional.
Oh oh and! Taylor talks about the butterfly being her "last contact" with her Dad. Very much bug as an extension of self. It's a shift she's been making.
Even more so there's a point where she is trying to get out of the school and she gets to the door and has a bug clone on the other side and says "my hand pressing against my own, separated by an inch and a half of door". Like, the bug clone hand is just her hand. I fucking love the shift compared to how she talked about the bugs early on.
Oh and also Greg totally has like, a Thinker 1 power or something. Pretty sure I mentioned that last arc with his interlude but mentioning it again now to be sure.
Stan interlude thoughts:
Oh my god I hate this man I can't stand him I hated him from the 3rd sentence of the chapter and I was always right to do so!
Seriously. 3rd sentence (or maybe 3rd paragraph which is technically the 3rd, 4th, and 5th sentences I guess). I read it and went "fuck off Stan you're clearly a pretentious dick" and then every few sentences it just became more confirmed!
Just the ways he talks about Nipper. Like. I can rephrase what he says to say the exact same thing except not being a asshole when saying it! Instead of "She was weak and unsuited for the field but she at least tried" just say "She was a hard worker despite being assigned to a job she did not ask for"! It's so fucking easy dude!
Anyway Stan is a jerk.
I loved the way this interlude rolled through different people all watching the same news report. It was a really good way to cover this major story event and let us see how so many other characters were reacting to it.
Also I'm sure all those Slaughterhouse Nine clones aren't going to be an issue later right? Or the fact that there is specifically only one clone of Gray Boy instead of 10 like everyone else? I'm sure that's fiiiiine.
Accord interlude thoughts:
Oh. Oh my. Uhhh. Is it hot in here all of the sudden? Anyone else feel that? No? Just me?
sweats
Oh ok Citrine definitely feels what I'm feeling. She knows what's up.
Just like. Look. Accord is bad ok. Not just cause he's a villain but clearly he'll kill for the smallest cause. And he's in a spot to fuck with my daughter and her polycule so like. Yes. He's bad. I do not like him. I want him to leave. I don't think they should work with him . . .
but . . .
OH MY FUCKING GOD HOLY SHIT PLEASE ACCORD I LOOK GREAT IN PURPLE AND I LOVE DRESSING FANCY AND I'M VERY GOOD AT BEING PROPER I WON'T MESS UP AT ALL I'LL BE THE PERFECT MINION PLEASE!
. . .
cough
Soooo anyway. How about that Butcher huh? That sure is a wild power. Instantly made me think of Glaistig Uaine's power. Very different but reaches into that same base bit, the idea that some part of a dead parahuman can be held onto.
Also holy shit Skitter was so badass in this scene I loved it.
Holy shit Accord is with Cauldron. Or at least closely aligned. And like of course he is it makes so much sense. He's too useful for them to ignore.
I am really curious to see what Accord's power does when he's confronted with a really complex problem. End of the world, doors to another dimension, higher dimensional beings, all that jazz.
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tomssexdoll · 13 hours
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hii i was wondering if you can do a tom angst where he keeps ignoring the reader and constantly leaving her behind and when the reader confronts tom about they argue and tom says something so rude like “not my fault my career is more important than you” or something like that. it can end with fluff, smut, whatever you think it should end with 🩷🩷. i really hope this made sense like it does in my head😭 mwah mwah 💋
YESS
Left behind
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"It's not my fault my career is more important than you!"
PAIRINGS: Tom 2015 x Female reader
CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF
SYPNOSIS: After Tom starts treating Y/N badly she finally decides to confront him. It goes horribly and they end up in an explosive argument where he says something horrible, causing her to storm out and leave for a few days.
A/N: hey guysss!
WARNINGS: dom!tom, reader!sub, p in v (missionary), eating out, fingering, nip and breast play, arguing
Tom and I's relationship was starting to go sour, he was so busy at work, always out, always leaving me behind and ignoring me when he got home. I tried everything, buying him gifts, cooking him meals, cheering him up, nothing. Nothing worked.
He didn't even argue with me, he just shut me out, like I was worth nothing. I wondered why he was even with me if he wanted to treat me so badly, surely he would've just left me if he got tired of me?
It hurt my heart, seeing how he went from such a loving and caring boyfriend to this? We've been dating for 5 years, we've had our moments but we've always made up, he's never neglected or treated me badly, I wonder why he started now.
I decided to confront him about it, cause why should I continue to let myself be treated like shit, it wasn't fair, if I did this to him he'd blow off the rails. Today was his day off so I decided to let him sleep in before I'd confront him, even though I was mad I still cared about him.
He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a beer and sitting on the couch, turning the TV on to watch his sports games. I sat down next to him, watching as he didn't even greet me, just ignored my presence.
"Tom.." I nudged him, watching as he ignored me yet again, then I nudged him again, "tom!" I raised my voice. He grunted and turned to me, glaring down at me, "what? Don't you see I'm trying to watch the game?" I scoffed, disgusted by his attitude, "what is wrong with you, am I a stranger or something, why do you treat me like shit!" I got up, yelling at him.
"No, I've just been busy, jeez.." he rolled his eyes, flicking through different channels, sipping at his ice cold beer. "Stop trying to dismiss me, you always fucking do this, I can't believe it Tom," I sighed, "how did you become so cold? So calloused..."
He chuckled mockingly, "oh yeah, blame it on me, your hardworking boyfriend who just wants a good life for his girlfriend, I don't see you working as hard as I do, working multiple hours, organising things and practicing for hours, hm?" he turned to me, sending me a dangerous glare.
"You chose this fucking career and knew how hard it would be, I've told you multiple times to stop working so much and let the others help but you dont fucking listen, it's like talking to a wall Tom!" I couldn't believe him, he was implying I was selfish because I didn't choose such a difficult career like him?
"This is my passion, my dream, why wouldn't I work hard for it?" he pulled his packet of cigarettes, lighting it and taking a long drag. "Tom, I told you not to smoke in the house!" I yelled, snatching the cigarette from his hand and putting it out.
"Oh it's too fucking early to yell, just shut up and sit down," he sighed, "why should I? I can't take it anymore! You're barely home and when you are you shut me out, you ignore me and treat me like shit, what happened to our happy, fun, loving relationship, huh?" I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
He remained silent, focusing on the program on the TV. "Tom! I'm fucking talking to you!" I screamed, grabbing his arm roughly, "oh for fuck sakes, it's not my fucking fault my career is more important than you!" he got up, inching closer to me and screaming in my face.
My jaw dropped, I just stared at him for a few seconds before coming back to my senses. "Fuck you Tom, I'm done," I snatched my keys, storming off, "yeah, leave, I don't fucking want you here anyway!" he shouted, I just ignored his hurtful comments and slammed the front door, getting into my car and speeding off, tears streaming down my face.
I decided to go to his twin brother, Bills house. Him and I were really close, I met him before Tom and we just clicked. I knocked urgently on his door, my chest heaving up and down.
As he came out he took in my hurt expression, instantly pulling me inside and setting me down onto the couch, grabbing a bottle of wine. "What's wrong love, is it Tom?" he sighed, already knowing the root of the problem, pouring me a huge glass.
"Yeah..he's such a fucking asshole, he's become super distant and cold, ignoring me and treating me like a stranger! I don't know why, I don't know if he's cheating or he just doesn't care anymore," I sobbed, a big weight on my chest from all the emotions.
"Fuck..I told him he'd hurt you, he never listens he's so selfish," Bill gave me my glass, watching as I took a huge sip. "He was telling me about how work is so stressful and how he's scared he's taking it out on you, what he's been saying and doing," his hand came down to my thigh, rubbing it gently.
"So he knows what he's doing? Fucking great.." I rolled my eyes, taking another big sip from my glass, then setting it down and grabbing a cigarette from Bill, lighting it and letting the smoke fill my lungs.
"You can stay as long as you like, I'm going to speak to him now though, stay here honey," he kissed my forehead, grabbing his phone and rushing into his bedroom.
While he was gone, I could hear him screaming at Tom, berrating him for how much he's hurt me. The bitterness in his voice echoing throughout the whole house.
As the days went by, the longer I stayed at Bills the more I detatched from Tom, my feelings slowly slipping away. I still had a enourmous amount of love for him but I felt myself letting go.
He didn't even try call or text me, not even after Bill yelled at him. I wondered if he had already moved on, found another girl he could use and abuse.
I spent my day with Bill, going to clubs, parties, dinners, lunch dates, etc. I really missed Bill, him being busy with work too really did take a toll on our friendship but as usual it bounced right back.
We decided to go to the beach, unwind and have a few drinks. He rented an area just for us to sit and relax at. I knew the paparazzi would be taking millions of photos of us, twitter headlines that suspected us being together, but I didn't care, I just needed to relax.
As we arrived I set up a spot, sticking our umbrella in the sand and unfolding our lounge chairs. "Here you go y/n," Bill smirked, handing me a flask of vodka, pulling one out for himself.
"Bill, we look like alcoholics," I giggled, putting my sunglasses on and relaxing, letting the warmth of the sun kiss my skin.
As hours passed and the sun started to set, I heard a familiar car roaring in the distance. I then saw Toms figure frantically running, searching for me. As soon as our eyes locked, a wash of relief displayed on his face.
He ran towards us, the sand flying in the air around him with every step. "Baby..oh my god.." he panted, I just turned my head and ignored him, enjoying the view of the sun setting.
"Please, just talk to me, do anything, yell at me, hit me," he pleaded, a hint of desperation in his voice. I continued to ignore him, showing him what it felt like for me, how hurt I felt.
"Baby!" he cried out, getting on his knees beside me and leaving trails of kisses on my thighs. "Tom, if she isn't responding, leave her alone," he rolled his eyes, sipping at his drink.
I kept ignoring Tom, even moving my leg to stop his kisses. "Please schatzi, please let me make it up to you, I'm so sorry for treating you badly, you know I love you so so much, I love you more than life itself, just let me make it up to you..please.." his voice shaky.
I sighed, my heart cracking slightly at the pain in his voice. I just turned my body away from him, completely shutting him out. "No..no no no baby.." he whimpered, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest, sobbing into my shoulder.
My eyes widened as I heard him cry, he never cried around me and when he did I knew it was serious. "Please..I can't lose you, I know I'm a fucking idiot, I know i've been a shitty boyfriend, I'll do anything to make you happy, I'll scream and tell the whole world how much I love you.." his tears coating my shoulder.
I couldn't see him in pain anymore, it broke me. I turned around and stood on my knees, hugging him tightly and stroking his hair. "Shhh baby.." I cooed, leaving small kisses on his neck.
"Oh baby...I love you so much, I need to make it up to you, please let me.." he continued to sob, his shaky arms wrapped around me. I nodded and pulled back, getting up and hugging Bill, "I have to Bill..." I sighed, "I know honey, go ahead," he smiled, patting my thigh softly.
I smiled back, turning around and holding Tom's hand, walking with him back to his car. We were silent the whole Tom, I guess he didn't want to fuck things up, he was super lucky he even got a second chance.
The car ride home was just as silent, his hand tightly gripping my thigh, as if he was trying to hold onto me incase I slipped away. As we got home he practically dragged me inside, slamming the door shut and rushing to the bedroom.
He pulled me into his lap and just held me, whispering about how sorry he was, how he was an idiot to push me away and treat me the way he did, how he didn't mean any of the things he said in the argument, how he was just mad and not thinking properly.
"Let me make it up to you, let me show you how beautiful and worthy you are," he pulled back, admiring me. "How so.." I bit my lip, his head turned to the back and then back at me, hinting his idea.
"Alright.." I smiled and kissed his cheek, getting off his lap and laying back on the bed. He quickly followed, towering over me and capturing my lips in a soft, passionate kiss, not one filled with lust of anger, one that showed me his love for me.
He started to undress, desire burning in his eyes. First his jacket, then his shirt, then his jeans. All he was left in was his dark grey boxers, his cock straining against them.
He dived down against, holding my waist carefully while kissing me again, our lips locking in a passionate embrace. I kissed him back, deepening the connection, his strong hands roaming my body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and hollow.
He nipped at my bottom lip, basically asking for permission to take things further. I nodded and opened my mouth, his tongue delving into my mouth and exploring in a passionate and hungry kiss.
His hands sliding down to my hips as he pressed his hips against mine, his growing arousal evident against my thigh, "god...I've missed you so much," he sighed, planting kisses down my jawline, down to my neck.
He sucked softly, kissing all the right spots on my neck and leaving marks, then moving down to my chest, his hands reaching behind my neck and removing my bikini top, revealing my hard nipples.
"Ohhh fuck.." he groaned, his gaze immediately dropping to my exposed chest. He wastes no time in leaning down to taste them, licking and sucking at my nipple, his hands kneeding my other boob, making sure to pay worship every part of me.
"Tonight it's all about you, all about your pleasure..I want to make you feel loved, make up for all the times I made you feel neglected.." he mumbled on my skin, looking up at me.
I nodded and smiled, his lips kissed down from my breasts to my stomach, the sensation making my whole body tingle as he went closer to my burning heat.
"Tom.." I whined, bucking my hips up. "Okay, okay baby.." he chuckled, wrapping his fingers around the ties of my bikini bottom and slowly letting the knot loose, peeling it off me and revealing my wet, aching cunt.
"Jesus.." his breath hitched, eyes widening. "You like what you see?" I smirked, teasing him, "oh do I? What kind of question is that.." he dived his face into my sopping pussy, licking a stripe through my folds.
His hands held my thighs open as he started to flick his tongue at my clit, moaning against me with the taste of my arousal. "You're so sweet baby..fuck.." he groaned, his tongue swirling around my clit with calculated precision.
His hands slid up, sliding 2 fingers into my hole and penetrating me gently, making sure to curl his fingers at my g spot. "Ohh Tom, oh fuck it's so good!" I cried out, rolling my eyes back as the pleasure became more intense.
As he hears my cries of ecstacy, he knows he's hit the right spot. He moans against my pussy, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure throughout me, he uses his fingers to finger me harder, "you like that, hm? The way I finger fuck you while sucking on your needy clit.." he growled, "yes yes yes!" I whined, his tongue flicking at my clit, a knot forming in my stomach to signal my upcoming release.
He feels my pussy clench around his fingers as I get closer to my orgasm, continuing to work my clit with his tongue, determained to make me cum harder than ever before. He hooks his fingers inside me again, making me let out a loud, whiny moan.
"Good girl, let go on my fingers.." he chuckled, I rolled my eyes back and threw my head back as my release hit me, spilling my juices all over his fingers.
"Ohh baby.." he grinned, pulling his dripping fingers out and sucking every bit of slick on his left on them. His eyes darted back to mine, his erection throbbing wildly.
"You want me to fuck you, make you scream?" he crawled closer, his muscular frame hovering over me, I nodded eagerly, reaching down and freeing his cock, it slapped against his abdomen and stood tall, his tip leaking pre.
"So eager for my cock, such a good girl," he smirked, positioning his tip at my entrance and slowly pushing in, wasting no time. He grips my hips and thrusts himself deeper inside of me, his movements are slow and deliberate at first, savouring every sensation.
"Mmm, faster please..." I whined, looking up at him with doe eyes, he instantly obeyed, only wanting the best for me. He starts to speed up, his balls slapping against my wet pussy with each powerful thrust, "ahhh!" I cried out, holding onto his biceps for balance.
"That's it, scream for me, show me how much you love this cock.." he groaned, gripping my hips tighter as he starts to fuck me even harder, his cock hitting that gummy spot in me.
His thrusts becoming more erratic as he pushes himself deeper inside of me, filling me up completely, making sure he wasn't the only one experiencing euphoria.
He grunts with pleasure, leaning forward and kissing me passionately as he slams into me, his cock throbbing with intense need. He can feel my tighten around him again, getting ready to cum all over his cock.
"You gonna cum on this cock baby?" he teased, nipping at my earlobe. "Yesss! Yes, yes fuck!" I cried out, the sound of skin slapping filling our ears. He grins wickedly at me, his gaze dark and filled with desire.
He continues to pound into me roughly with every ounce of strength he has, "gonna cum baby!" he moaned loudly, rolling his eyes back as his release was just as close as mine.
He grunts and thrusts harder, feeling my pussy tighten around him as I came, he keeps fucking me throughout my orgasm, riding out the waves of pleasure with me. "Fuckk.." he groaned, finally reaching his peak and emptying himself inside of me.
He rode out his high, panting and collapsing on top of me, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to calm down from his earth shattering orgasm.
After resting, he layed back on the bed, pulling me onto his chest and stroking my back, our naked bodies melting together, finally feeling the love again after so long.
"Why were you so mean Tom.." I mumbled, not having the strength to look up at him. "I don't know baby, I was just stressed and didn't handle my emotions properly which resulted in me taking it out on you, I should've never done it and I'm so sorry liebe," he sighed, kissing the top of my head tenderly.
"It's okay, I forgive you.." I sighed, burying my face into his chest. He chuckled lightly and continued to caress me, not missing any spot on my body.
"I love you so much Y/N, I swear I will act better and make it up to you, I'll do anything to fix it.." he whispered, I smiled and drifted off to sleep, tired from our lovemaking session.
As I woke up the next morning I realised Tom wasn't in bed, I was confused and got up, searching the house for him. "Tom?" I called out, "here baby!" he shouted back, I smiled and ran towards the kitchen, gasping as I saw a huge bouquet of red roses, my favourite.
Beside the flowers were sets of wrapped gifts, some small, some medium. I ran over to him and hugged him tightly, peppering kisses all over his face. "Liebe..thankyou.." I smiled, turning to the presents and opening the smallest one.
A little velvet box stared back at me, I opened it to reveal a beautiful, diamond necklace. It was an infinity symbol, "that's a symbol of our love, it's eternal.." he smiled, a tear forming in his eye.
"Oh baby..you're so amazing," I cried out and kissed him passionately. I turned around and let him put the necklace on me, his touch soft and promising.
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tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @ballhair
tags: @kaulitzsbabyy @kaulitzswhxre @cosmicck
tags: @bkaulitzlover @ge-billsgf @miyukafujii
tags: @tomsonlyslut @ella1289 @20doozers
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ano-po · 1 year
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Tag yourself if you have an ex-friend who is probably listening to this song right now with you and your friend group in mind.
Bonus if this ex-friend has been recruited by a religious group, gets their laptop out while on a friend gathering to 'work', always brags about their 'life goals' when they can't even be functional and responsible, has been talking about investments and passive income, is addicted with 'productivity' videos, and has once admitted their envy towards some group members for having cars and affording travels.
Extra bonus if this ex-friend has once betrayed you in a school group project.
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b-blushes · 8 months
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you know when you're in da overwhelm zone due to Circumstances that you don't really have power over. well it's really hard to deescalate from that i am finding!
HOWEVER i am attempting:
FACING THE THINGS because the longer they loom. the longer they are looming for.
regular breaks from Addressing Everything
regular snacks/meals/drinks
prioritising
postponing stuff that can be left until later (But watch out!)
doing other things in advance that are easy to do now (such as stockpiling meals ready for feeling more ill)
asking for help where i can
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theheadlessgroom · 1 month
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@beatingheart-bride
Damnit, she remembers the strawberry preserves incident! Randall blushed with a little grin, recalling him telling her the story long, long ago, just as his mother had recounted it to him with great fondness and amusement: How he managed to somehow get his hands on some freshly-made preserves his mother had just jarred and downed the whole thing, getting himself plenty sticky and smeared with strawberry in the process.
"Oh, it was plenty of fun!" June snorted, shaking her head as she thought back to that sunny spring day-she leaves the room for two minutes, and her son makes an absolute mess of himself and the kitchen counter. "I just remember him sitting there on the counter, all big-eyed, with strawberry...everywhere! His clothes, his hair, the countertop, oh, it was a mess!"
"And he'd just had a bath too!" Wilhelm added, as he looked to his son-who was looking a bit like a strawberry now, given the way he was blushing. "Junie and I had given him a bath after breakfast, I went out to grab something from the corner market, and when I come back, she's got our boy back in the tub!"
He was deeply bewildered by that: He looked at his son, peering out at him over the side of the tub, and then to June, who was dropping a set of red-stained clothes into the hamper, commenting with a hollow laugh, "You won't believe what your son did!"
As Wilhelm continued to regale Emily with some of Randall's other misadventures, June couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to give Emily back that taste of her favorite berry. She had to drink blood to survive, but would it still be possible for her to enjoy what she used to love, all those years ago? Could there be a best of both worlds, she wondered?
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pastafossa · 2 years
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U know that scene in season 3 when Matt goes out for the first time since the explosion? He confronts those guys in the street not being recovered and he basically asks them to kill him? Cause u know Catholic guilt and suicide and stuff..
Well I just had the image of Jane finding out Matt did this and was in this head space and PASTA THERE ARE TEARS
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I am sadly quite familiar with that heartbreaking scene unfortunately. It's the absolute lowest point he reaches, after being broken physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Gonna put the rest *waves* below a cut since it's dealing with a really heavy thing, but I'm down to talk about it a bit and about what Jane's reaction might be (since I'm planning to delve into S3 in TRT so I don't want to give things away).
So this point is basically the absolute, lowest of low points that Matt ever reaches in the show. He's been broken physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Everything he's worked for has seemingly failed - he couldn't save the law firm, he split with Foggy, he lost his relationship with Karen, he couldn't save Elektra. He's lost his friends, his abilities, and essentially his body. The people he cares about all seem better off now that he's 'gone' and dead, and he even asked Danny to look after the city for him. He is in unfathomable pain. All the work he's put into Hell's Kitchen, and crime has never stopped. And now the one thing he had left, the one thing he could do to help - fight for something - is gone. He's left with what seems like nothing and so... yeah. He sees no reason to keep living. He has no purpose, and he'd rather die there on the street as the Devil then go on living.
I think the fact that he's dangerously Catholic only illustrates where he's at, since this is considered a huge no-no.
And now enter Jane, who loves him fully, and who he loves desperately in return.
Enter Jane, who has previously considered turning a gun on herself (Flashback section of chapter 104) if she was about to be captured again by the Man in the White Coat. She is... dangerously familiar with feeling like you have no way out.
Let's set aside what's actually going to happen in TRT, since I can't tell you how it's going to go down. Let's just take this exactly as it happens in canon - Matt convinces himself that, like with everyone else, she's better off without him; that even if she loved both Matt and Devil, he's now neither - he can't fight, he can't be a lawyer, so he can't be either of the things she loved and needed. And so he still hands that pipe over and offers himself up to be killed. And she finds out.
Matt is the only person she's ever met who doesn't give up. He fights, over and over and over, even when things are hopeless. It's why she stayed and fought - because he convinced her that even when things seem hopeless, you fight. It's not how you hit the mat, it's how you get up. It doesn't make her angry that he, in that moment, gave up. Because she knows Matt. And she knows that the only reason he would ever, ever give up is because he's in the darkest place he's ever been, somewhere so very far away, cold and alone in shadows that are so much louder than the voices of those that love him.
Add to that idea that she's almost lost him - again - and...
This would break her. It would tear her right down the middle, grief and agony so strong her knees would hit the ground, so strong she'd retch. Matt is her person, a star by which she guides her ship. She wants to grow old with him, or as old as the Devil can get. She had plans for this life with him. To know he's in this much pain is something she feels in the very heart of her.
And she would wonder if... she failed, somewhere. If she failed to let him know he was loved. If she failed to let him know she would always love him, even if he wasn't Matt, even if he wasn't Daredevil, even if he was no one at all, because she's been no one, been a Jane Doe for years, and he loved her regardless.
Did she touch him gently enough? Was she there for him often enough? Did she miss the right moment to whisper in his ear as she held him that the shadows were wrong, that he made the world better, that he was a good man, that she was proud of him, and that it was ok if he wanted to let this hurt out because she'd be there to hold him through it?
And yet she'd also be struck by one urge most of all, one she gave into over and over even before they started a relationship:
Help him.
There's no way she wouldn't find her way to that church basement. Maybe Maggie calls her; maybe she gets there herself. But either way, she winds up in that basement. She would find him there where he's curled up in that corner, lost and hurting and convinced he's nothing. And there's no way she wouldn't crawl to him, take him into her arms as he breaks, as his voice cracks on a, 'it hurts, sweetheart, it hurts so much.' No way she wouldn't bury her face in his hair, crying just like him, and whisper back, 'I know, Matt. I know it does, D. It'll be ok. I love you so, so much, Matt. It'll be ok.'
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ttsukiimi · 1 month
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!
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★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.
★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)
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✧・゚𝓖. 𝓢 ✧・゚
Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.
But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.
“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.
You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.
He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”
And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.
Or two.
Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.
Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.
“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.
“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”
✧・゚𝓒.𝓚✧・゚
Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.
And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.
Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.
“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.
Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.
Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.
“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.
“Just..one more, baby,”
✧・゚𝓝.𝓚✧・゚
Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.
But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.
What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.
“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.
His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.
Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.
“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.
“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”
You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.
Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.
✧・゚𝓣.𝓕✧・゚
Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.
Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.
“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.
“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.
“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.
Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.
He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.
“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.
“Good girl,”
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yuujispinkhair · 3 months
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Yakuza King!Sukuna lives a dangerous life. That's why he only wants you to leave his penthouse with your bodyguard. But what if you crave a treat from your favorite shop just down the street and go on your own?
Based on this lovely ask I received from @subarusuguru. Thank you so much for sharing it with me!! ♥️
Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 900 Warnings: 18+, smut, spanking + pussy spanking, edging, fingering, dirty talk, use of the pet name daddy. It isn't explicitly stated in this story, but Sukuna and Reader are in an established relationship and have a safe word, etc. Everything happens with mutual consent. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear
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Yakuza!Sukuna loves you. He loves you so much. You are his whole world, and he needs to protect you, especially when he has so many enemies because of his line of work.
Usually, Sukuna enjoys a little disobedience when it comes from you. He loves to tease you about being a brat and enjoys playfully putting you back in your place. But things are different when he is actually worried about you like he is tonight after finding out you went to a shop all alone, without one of Sukuna's drivers, and even worse, without your bodyguard.
Sukuna knows that he is to blame, too, because he didn't want to scare you and, therefore, didn't tell you how grave the threat is at the moment. But he still can't stop himself from spiraling when he hears you so foolishly went out on your own. 
"This has to stop. If I tell you not to leave the house on your own, you will be a good girl and stay inside. And if you really need to leave, you will call Nobara. Do you understand that?"
He can see you gulp hard when you hear how stern he sounds. His maroon eyes, which are usually so warm when they look at you, are cold and hard right now. Tonight, the man sitting across from you isn't just your charming and loving husband. Tonight, you are talking to the King of Tokyo's Underworld, and he will do what he has to do to ensure you stay safe.
That's why Sukuna pats his lap and points an elegant tattooed finger to his fine black suit pants.
"Come here. I will make sure you remember to do as I tell you from now on."
You squeal when he grabs you and bends you over his lap, lifting your skirt and pulling your pretty lace panties down. And you squeal even louder when Sukuna's large hand connects firmly with your juicy ass cheek.
You make a cute sound, a mix between a hiss and a moan, when Sukuna spanks you again, several times in a row, before he uses his other hand to spread your pussy lips and watch the glistening wetness gathering there, your arousal so evident. You are breathing heavily when Sukuna runs a teasing fingertip over your creamy folds before he pinches your wet little clit, eliciting a loud gasp from you.
"I am doing this for you, darling. Don't you understand that I need to protect you? The Zenins are out there, trying to take everything from me. What do you think will happen if you run into them?"
You whimper softly, and Sukuna kneads the plump flesh of your naked ass cheek before he pulls his hand away and adds in a low, stern voice, emphasizing every word,
"That's why," his palm connects firmly with your naked ass again, "you have to," another firm spank, "learn how to obey me."
Sukuna wishes he didn't have to do this. He doesn't want to bend you over his knees like this and spank you like some naughty brat.
He doesn't want to tease you for hours like this, torturing you with pleasure and pain. Rubbing your swollen clit, and occasionally pushing a finger into your tight wet cunt, pumping it in and out of your obscenely squelching wetness, only to pull away again anytime he feels you beginning to tighten around him.
He doesn't want to punish you, making you whine loudly when he lets his large palm connect firmly with your spread pussy.
Sukuna doesn't want to spank and edge you until you are a crying, needy mess who promises him over and over again that you won't leave the penthouse on your own again.
"Please, Sukuna! Please...I... please... I won't go out on my own again! Please, please let me cum, Daddy! I'll be your good girl!"
Sukuna hates having to use his power and strength like that. But he also knows that pain is a good way to ensure a lesson is learned. And at least this is a pleasurable pain, judging by the way you mewl when he pushes two long fingers deep into your soaking wet cunt and fucks you hard and deep with them, torturing your g-spot unrelentingly while his other hand spanks your sensitive flesh.
Your whole body shakes as you cum all over his long fingers that are stuffing your cunt while Sukuna's other hand connects hard with your ass again, spanking and fingering you to an orgasm that makes you cry out loudly.
Sukuna lets out a long breath. The hand that spanked you is brushing gently over your abused skin now, caressing it lovingly, while he slowly fucks you through your orgasm. His voice is low, sensual, and full of love,
"Yes, just like that, sweetheart. You can be so good for me when you want. And I hate having to act like such an asshole. I love you, darling. I just want you to be safe. Do you understand that?"
He smiles when you answer him with a voice thick with tears but also filled with that sweet euphoria you always get after Sukuna made you cum.
"Hmm, yes, I know. I'm sorry for being so reckless, Kuna. I love you too."
You scramble to get up, and Sukuna quickly helps you, wrapping his strong arms safely around you and pulling you up so you straddle his lap, your wet cunt soaking his fine suit pants.
You smile at him and wrap your arms around his neck,
"But, next time, just tell me the whole truth, so I know how dangerous things are at the moment. You shouldn't keep these things from me, baby. I can take it, you know?"
Sukuna's lips lift in an amused smirk, his large hands sprawling over your naked ass, pulling you closer, his lips ghosting over your neck. He presses a tender kiss to your pulse point while lifting his hips to let you feel the large, hard bulge in his pants, his throbbing cock pressing against your hot wet cunt, only separated by the soaked-through fabric of his suit pants and boxer briefs.
"First, show me how you can take Daddy's cock, and then I will tell you everything."
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FUCKKK I NEED HIM!!!! Yakuza!Sukuna still manages to make my head spin, and I am so happy I could indulge in this!! Thank you so much for the prompt!! And thank you so much for reading!!
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet ♥️♥️
You can find more Yakuza King!Sukuna stories here
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zentraex · 3 months
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Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.
Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.
Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader
(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.
Art by @asteriscks on TikTok
This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.
Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.
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It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 
You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 
Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 
_
It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 
Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?
Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.
"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.
"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 
What?
"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."
"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"
"No..."
You already knew what that meant: double payment.
"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."
You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.
 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."
Your eyes widened. 
Now?
"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"
"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."
Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 
"The keys?" 
With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.
What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  
You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.
Thank God, I didn't hit him. 
"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."
What!?
How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 
"You’re telling me this now!?"
"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 
That filthy bastard.
No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  
What were you going to do now? 
Shit.
"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.
Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.
Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.
"But maybe we can agree on something.
Then you stopped. 
"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."
Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 
"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"
"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”
_
Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 
Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.
But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.
_
"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."
After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.
I'm going to die today!
After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.
“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."
Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 
Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01
Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04
Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02
Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 
Mia Stone F03 – 01
Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04
Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 
"I wish you good luck."
C’mon Reader, be like Henry…
But better.
The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.
"Good evening."
Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 
With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?
Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 
Long hair
Small round nose
She has freckles
...
...
...
Freckles?
Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 
You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.
No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 
"You look different...", you murmur after a while.
"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."
Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 
Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 
You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 
Shit. 
She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.
Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 
"3312," you murmur to yourself.
"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."
Cleaning protocol? 
What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 
What if they will?
What if your judgment was wrong?
What if...
Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.
"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."
It took a while until someone finally came again. 
This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 
Milkman...
You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 
You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 
"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."
"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."
Long nose
Thin chin
Tired eyes
Short hair
Wears a hat
It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 
Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."
"Yes, today is my first day."
"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."
Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.
"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."
Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.
"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."
You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.
What milk do you mean exactly?
My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?
"I'd be delighted, Francis."
You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 
"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"
And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 
You pressed the green button.
_
"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 
It was your third day, your third time to change shift.
Well, it usually would have been.
Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.
He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.
You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  
"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"
He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 
"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"
The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.
Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....
Oh?
He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 
Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 
Were you so shameful?
"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."
You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 
His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”
If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?
Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.
_
"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 
Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.
"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."
Well, he had a point, huh?
No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 
You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.
"Have you killed more people?"
"Just more doppelgangers you let through."
Your eyes widened. 
You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.
"How many have I let through?"
Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"
You just nod, smiling.
"Are you going to kill others...?
You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 
"Would you kill for me?"
"Hooooonn"
When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 
You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.
_
Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 
But honestly? 
You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.
When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 
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itsswritten · 2 months
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butterfly kisses
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 1.7K (honestly it's just a little drabble)
Warnings: 18+, implied smut, lots of fluff, mating frenzy
Summary: Azriel just can't get enough of your wings <3
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Wings Universe - More from this world.
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Azriel wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky.
He had thanked the Mother every day since the bond snapped, and even more when you accepted it. When Mor had introduced you into his life only a couple of years ago, he never imagined this would be the outcome.
Azriel vividly remembered the first night he met you. It was another gathering at Rita’s, one of the many that had unfolded, now peace settled over the land. 
Mor with playful determination had pulled you over to their table, arm looped around yours– almost in a way that said she wasn’t going to let you escape. He had noticed the faint blush that creeped up your face to your pointed ears, merely from the proximity of your High Lord and Lady, and their inner circle. He recalled how you offered a shy little curtsy in their presence, that had led to the whole table stifling their laughter. Rhys kindly explained that such formalities were not necessary, especially not in Rita’s of all places. Azriel did his best to contain his mirth at the display, all the while chewing the inside of his cheek to stop the chuckle leaving his lips. He truly couldn’t get over how adorable you were, he'd found himself captivated by your endearing innocence. 
And that was only the start.
Mor explained how she’d met you in town one day and had essentially thrusted her friendship onto you, and it really didn’t take long for Azriel and his family to do the same. 
You were so sweet and caring, and slotted into Azriel’s life so easily that he found it hard to remember a time when you weren’t there at all. Your kindness towards the Archeron sisters, guiding them through the intricate transitions of fae life that they still at times struggled with. Nyx was absolutely enamoured with you, oftentimes seeking your company over his actual family. But they didn’t blame him, because they all did same. Your calm sweet nature was addictive to them all, especially Azriel.
Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Azriel found himself seeking every opportunity to unravel all your layers. He wanted to know everything about you. From your favourite foods, to the books that captured your attention.
His infatuation all made sense when the bond snapped. 
It was the last solstice.
Azriel had noticed how beautiful you were looking, as you always were. But you were clad in a breathtaking pale pink summer dress, the neckline delicately showcasing your décolletage. As you moved with a natural grace, the fabric billowed ever so slightly at the waist, accentuating your silhouette in a manner that held attention.
Or at least held Azriel’s attention. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.
He watched you carefully navigate the chaos of the room. Nyx in one arm, giving Feyre some rest and reprieve in her pregnant state. Your other hand bringing in the cake Elain had spent all morning baking. Amidst the flurry of activity, you had been so close to dropping the cake. But Azriel's steady hand intervened just in time, grabbing the plate and taking it off you. Except in that moment your hands touched, grazed past one another in a way they had so many times before. 
But that time had been different.
It was Azriel’s turn to almost drop the cake. That all consuming warmth flooded his chest catching him off guard. A golden thread connecting itself to you. The mating bond. Finally.
And based on the bright red flush covering your cheeks, it was clear you’d felt it too. You’d fled the room then, overcome with emotion and what this new revelation meant. 
Though, it didn’t take long for Azriel to coax you round.
Ever the gentleman, he courted you. Taking you on the most thoughtful dates and spoiling you with bouquet after bouquet of flowers. He would leave little love notes and poetry for you to find. That it was really no surprise to anyone, when you decided to accept the bond.
That was only three weeks ago now.
Yourself and Azriel were deep in the mating frenzy. 
Rhys had kindly offered one of his private residences he had on the outskirts of Night. A smaller cottage, but with all the privacy you both needed. And Azriel had taken advantage of that privacy eliciting sounds from you that he would cherish forever and never tire hearing.
And then there were your wings. 
You had revealed them to him the first night after accepting the mating bond, and, Gods, was he done for.
Azriel had taken it upon himself, in the earlier months, to really vet you. His dedication to his role as Spymaster served as a guise for his self-indulgent exploration of you, delving into the intricate details of your being with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Not only had he discovered all the things you love, but he searched for details of who and what you were.
Finding himself holed up in the library at times, hours spent devoted to aquainiting himself to the type of fairy you were. 
He knew you had wings, was the type of fairy whose wings were the delicate kind. Most kept them concealed with magic. Yet, Azriel couldn't shake the thought that perhaps they were hidden not only for protection but also out of reverence for their breathtaking beauty. They were mesmerising. Enough to trap Azriel into some kind of trance. 
And perhaps possessively so, he was grateful not many males were privy to this part of you.
He was watching you now, laying on your front. Bare. Just how he’d left you when he took a moment to freshen up. You were giggling, your legs up and feet fluttering behind you while propped up over something.
“What are you doing, my love?” Azriel purred inquisitively, stepping closer towards the bed.
“Oh…Feyre was just checking in. Asking how much longer we might be,” he could hear you smile when you spoke, and watched as with the brush of your hand the magical parchment and ink disappeared that you’d been conversing with Feyre on.
“It’s not even been that long,”
“We’ve been gone three weeks–”
“And we’ll be gone 300 hundred more,”
You chuckled at his response, “Az, we do need to go back at some point. They need us.”
“I need you more.” There was no negotiating. Your family would be lucky to see you both before the next solstice at this rate.
Not that Azriel needed the frenzy to be satiated by you, but it truly was driving him. The primal need for you, overwhelming. The pair of you only stopped when you both fell into a slumber from exhaustion. And even then, there were many times you found each other in a sleep exhausted haze, tangled within and inside one another again.
The bed dipped either side of your legs, you were still on your front but could feel your mate over you. He had paused though, his eyes falling over your beautiful pink wings. The iridescent skin reflecting lights across the room. He had almost cried when he first saw them after you accepted the bond, mesmerised and overwhelmed by their beauty.
Getting to see this part of you, a part of you that was so private, stirred a gratefulness inside him. But there was something else too, a possessiveness that had slowly been creeping up his mind recently.
In the past three weeks, you had both done every possible maneuver, tried every kind of love making– fucking, screwing, mating. You’d even made him a crumbling wet mess just from playing with his wings. 
But he hadn’t touched yours.
No, they looked so delicate and soft, too beautiful to touch, that he hadn’t dared. 
You felt him situate himself behind you, his warm naked body lightly laying on you, his chest resting on your behind. His arms wormed their way under your hips to get comfy, and you splayed your wings flat against your back to fit him.
“Az?” you asked curiously, glancing slightly over at your shoulder to catch him in your peripheral.
He didn’t respond though, not with words. You felt his soft warm breath blowing on the membrane of your right wing, making your squirm under the touch. Your wing fluttering a little in the air.
“How sensitive are they? Too sensitive for me to touch?” You heard him behind you.
“Hm..” you tilted your head slightly to think, “They’re delicate, but you can touch them. Gently.”
You were waiting for him to wriggle his hand from out beneath you but instead you felt something warm and wet run against the bottom of your wing.
You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your lips at the soft touch. Azriel had taken it upon himself to use the tip of his tongue to explore this part of you, a part of you that was still very new to him. He felt you wriggle under him, and he shifted placing his full body weight on you so you couldn’t move.
His tongue traced the ridge of your wing, and he wasn’t letting up. Not when he’d made that sound from you. He wanted more of that. He moved and pressed his tongue flat against the delicate skin, evoking another moan from you.
“Does that feel good my little butterfly?” he purred, you could feel the smirk on his lips against your wing as he pressed a kiss on them.
You wanted to roll your eyes at his teasing, but it felt too good to do anything other than surrender to his touch.
“I want to hear your words,” he spoke a little more assertively this time, before swiping  his tongue along one of the tubular lines that spread like veins across your wings.
“Yes..” You huffed, before another moan slipped past your lips breathlessly. “It feels good Az…” You felt your body heat, your cheeks for sure rosy, grateful your mate could only hear not see the reaction he was having on you. 
He chuckled softly then, the vibrations from his lips skirting across your wings making them twitch.
“My sensitive little butterfly, ” the new nickname only made you squirm more, your core growing slick at his predatory attention.
Azriel moved his hand then, the one caught under your left hip, so effortlessly moving down to your core, cupping your wet slit as he licked the pink shiny membrane again. 
“Azriel…” you gasped, but his touch didn’t relent.
You knew this was only the start.
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a/n: just some lovely little fluffy mating frenzyness! I just love these two, so I may expand a little more on the wings universe and their relationship if you guys would like to see that! Maybe some domestic bliss, or if there's any scenes you'd like me to write for them or parts of their story you're interested in then I'm happy to explore. Also this was written fairly quickly, so please ignore any typos, I only did a quick little check hehe - Lottie
p.s. also thanks to @thisiskaylin who inspired the nickname! She commented on the wings fic that butterfly would be the perfect nickname and I just had to use it <3
Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria
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hoshigray · 10 months
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MAPPA gave Nanami such beautiful hands that they never fail to make you feel things.
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a/n: Bye, the trailer JUST came out, and I can't get over how good they made Nanami, so I'm writing out this to put myself together. @satoruhour pushed me on to write this so ty swee-T-pie, love u sm 💓 this is just like when they released that hidden inventory trailer and i drooled over Toji's hands help 💀 so yeah this is just me writing a short smthn for kento's hands, sorry not sorry. also tysm for 1.9k!!!
cw: Nanami x fem/afab! reader - first soft then smutty, so minors DNI - h@nd h0lding - soft dom! Nanami bc yes - fingering (f! receiving) - hand kink (ig?) - fingers in reader's mouth - pet names (angel, love, sweet girl) - praise - clitoral play - you and Nanami in a cute domestic relationship ♡
wc: 950
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You love Kento Nanami's hands. It's no secret to yourself because it's the truth. But you can't blame yourself; you can't help it! There are so many moments with him where you can't help but admire the man's big hands, and honestly, it's embarrassing at this point. It's a guilty pleasure that makes you feel such pleasant emotions, makes you want him more and more.
Even before the two of you expressed courtship, there were days when you'd encounter and have idle chitchat with the stoic man, and those were days that were hard to go through when you had such a tremendous crush on the guy. So much so that you'd drift your gaze away from his feline mocha eyes masked by his eyepiece. Instead, you'd look at his hands, admiring how beautiful and big they are. Aside from his face, they were the only thing visible from his dapper suit. Not that you complained, though. The more you saw and talked with Nanami, the more you marveled at his hands in your thoughts.
And when you two finally started dating, things were going slow and steady. Just as the two of you wanted — no rush at all. But a memory you hold dear to your heart was when the two of you walked home in the cold winter. The chilly breeze sent shivers down your spine, and your nose found breathing tricky in the extreme temperature change. Not to mention you forgot your mittens at home. Just my luck...
However, it wasn't all that bad. After all, your boyfriend (it felt a little weird calling him that) offered to walk you to your place, sticking close to your side, which was a rarity back then. Heat finally found its way up to your cold cheeks when Nanami took the initiative to grab ahold of your hand with his, the size difference making it easy to exchange warmth. "Here," he said so nonchalantly it almost felt like a dream. "Don't want the wind to blow you off the sidewalk." It was such an airy gag from the usually silent man, yet you chuckled and held his hand tighter, the cold overlooked throughout the rest of the walk.
Even watching him doing the most ordinary things is a sight. Whether he's washing dishes, making the bed, or cutting vegetables for the next meal he was cooking for you two, your eyes would always find their way to his deft hands. Rugged palms moving swiftly and gracefully, veins that stem from the back trail upwards to his forearm, and thick fingers with scars so faded with time that you'd have to be very close to see them. You're so in love with him — with his hands. They make you feel safe and secure, warm and loved. Specifically in times when you two are close to each other. Whether it's you resting on his chest as he reads a book while rubbing circles on your back or holding hands with you two walking around the vicinity, it couldn't get any better.
...Well, perhaps now as you're lying on the bed with your back to his chest, succumbing to his touch as one hand cups your cheeks while the other burrows inside your panties — his fingers intruding between your folds and playing with your leaky entrance staining the underwear with your come.
"Ooooh, Kentooo..." You moan to his thick digits in your vulva, scraping your spongey walls that result in high wails. He rubs your cheeks and maneuvers your face to the side so he can lay kisses on your neck, and you melt under his lips with a blissful hum.
"Open your legs a bit more for me, angel." His command is hushed to your ears. You follow his instructions and spread your legs further apart, and he rewards you with another finger added to your chasm. Now both the fore and middle digits slide deep into you, and the brush of his thumb on your clit results in sudden wails. "Good, that's my sweet girl."
His fingers graze your insides expertly, having you writhe on him with how good he's making you feel with just his fingers alone. The speed of his digits increases by the second, and you can feel the wave start rising in your body. Your body jolts with every scrape of his fingertips, pornographic whines fly out your mouth, and your face gets hotter and hotter.
"Haaaah!! Mmnnn...Kento, I'm so close. 'S so close, I'm—Mmmph!?" You don't get to finish that sentence when Nanami stuffs his free fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately coating the two digits with your saliva.
"Go on, come on me, love." His sweet words were what it took for everything to come crashing down, the fingers in your cunt quicken in pace, and his thumb flicking on your clitoris — causing you to grab onto his forearm. Scratching the clothed limb and heavy pants drawing inward, your cunt clamps around on his fingers as your orgasm comes to pull you in for a euphoric release.
And Nanami lets your body experience the shocks on top of him, laying precious kisses on your temple and cheeks. He slowly removes his digits from your satisfied cunt with a whimper from your puffy lips. "Did so well like always, angel." In your daze, you still share a smile and welcome his lips on yours.
Like you said before — Nanami's hands are your guilty pleasure in more ways than one. And it feels so good to know he reciprocates those desires with mutual love. If such a gorgeous and attentive man can have you under him with just his sheer touch, then so be it.
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willows-peak · 5 months
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*・゚✧ How the JJK characters show their love for u (love languages)
tags: multi character x reader, gn! reader, fluff, just overwhelming amts of fluff
word count: 1.3k
a/n: im starting off with some fluff, bc they all deserve some soft loving <3
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⋆。˚ ♡ PHYSICAL TOUCH: light squeezes of your hand, hugs from behind, leaning on your shoulder on the train, holding your wrist while you walk together, no matter what their hands are on you. they just love you too much to keep away from you, can you blame them? the feeling of you against their skin makes them feel happier than they could ever expect, even when they're coming across as clingy sometimes.
nobara will tug on your sleeve until you oblige and follow her around the mall, your hand either taken by your girlfriend's or the brightly colored shopping bags she'd acquired over your trip. some for her, some for you, because she was just dying to put you in some of the shirts she'd seen around the mall. and she's smile and kiss your cheek when you went with her requests with no fuss
yuuji will take no liberties in picking you up at any point. greeting you? you're up in the air before you can say 'hello'. god help you if you even mention being tired, because he will carry you in his arms without a moments hesitation, holding you close to his chest and claiming he can't in good conscious let you walk while tired! as your boyfriend, its his job to take care of you
gojo will never ever hesitate to embarrass you with how doting he can get. dramatically gasping whenever he sees you in his kitchen making a snack and rushing over to you, pressing kiss after kiss to your face and squeezing you while praising the heavens he's able to see you today, ignoring how you turned your face away and whined at him to lay off
⋆。˚ ♡ WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: with someone like you, how do you expect them to keep their mouth shut? they can never get enough of the way you blush or laugh at their compliments, or their daily vows of love. "you're a great cook, dear." if you made them a meal, or fawning over how great you look today, despite you being dressed in loose pajamas with a messy bedhead. they need you to always know how in love they are, constantly.
sukuna, surprisingly, can offer quite a few bits of praise to you through the day. while you may have to pause and figure out his wording to actually receive a compliment at times, that doesn't change how he'll always show his approval of you in his own way. he never fails to acknowledge your effort in something, patting your shoulder and congratulating you on whatever you did.
nanami is always straight to the point when he speaks, wasting no extra time to dance around a subject and often being more blunt than necessary with his words. and that carries over to how he loves you, of course. kissing the temple of your head, murmuring about how lucky he is to be with you, brushing hair out of your face while you lean in for a proper kiss.
⋆。˚ ♡ GIFT GIVING: plastic charms, figurines, hair clips, clothes, jewelry, stuffies, flowers, games, they're never ending. you're never not on their mind, so it's really impossible for them to be out and about without seeing some beautiful roses in a shop window and not hesitate at all with buying it for you. a single off handed comment about how you're a fan of something, and suddenly your arms are full of different kinds of merch. you've had to reorganize your room countless times to fit everything they've gotten you in there, and you're starting to look like a hoarder. but, it makes them happy, so what choice do you have?
getou could plant acres of flower fields with how much roses he'd gotten you. you can't even remember when you'd told him your favorite flower, the innocent seeming question still forcing you to fill up vase after vase of beautifully picked red roses. the amount of times getou had shown up to your door, hands behind his back with a smile plastered over his face at your weary sigh. "what did you get now, sugu..." "i don't have a clue what you mean, my love."
maki will take the extra step and take you with her when she gets a gift idea, finding the way you'd fret over her funds as she casually bought you yet another scarf she caught you eyeing much cuter than surprising you with it. this happens so often that she's caught you snapping your head forwards when letting your eye linger on something too long, making her laugh and peck your cheek before snatching it up before you could notice.
⋆。˚ ♡ QUALITY TIME: quiet nights, spent curled up next to each other simply enjoying the others presence. sitting next to you while you play your favorite game, throwing occasional questions at you and smiling when you eagerly answer them. sometimes they get sheepish at how in love they are, that you simply being there makes them feel happier than anything. but when you're cozied up next to them, snoring softly against their chest, they can't seem to care too much about anything else
megumi is the king of silent time together, claims it helps him study and plan for missions when nothing is happening around him. and while that's true, often times he will replace 'feeling lonely and wanting your company' with 'studying for an exam'. he's sure you aren't aware of what he truly means when he asks to come over though, even when he shows up with no textbooks or notes to 'study from', and immediately goes to cuddle up against you when you usher him inside your room.
choso is..very clingy lol. always following behind you wherever you go, sitting next to you with a soft smile even as you aimlessly scroll through your phone. he's so silent that you've forgotten his presence entirely a few times, yelping when you hear a low sigh or a shuffle of his hand against your own. you felt a little exposed at first, always being under surveillance by him, but you adjusted pretty quickly and accepted his way of affection.
⋆。˚ ♡ ACTS OF SERVICE: call it a hero complex, but they just adore being your knight in shining armor. holding the door open for you, finishing an assignment for you after learning how stressed you've been recently, wrapping their coat around you when it gets too chilly out, making your favorite meal just because they could. why should you have to do things when they're right there?
toji, despite having cast away his family name, was still raised by a traditional family. which meant he'd assigned himself to any hard work that needed to be done. plumbing, cleaning, repairing of any kind, he was on it. at first he did it out of habit, used to being forced to pick up any chore that others didn't feel like doing. but over time, the way you'd thank him and hug him tight when he did something for you made his heart melt. nowadays, he almost gets giddy when he hears your frustrated mumbling from across the room, happy to help you yet again with whatever you needed.
yuuta is really the sweetest thing... he's always ready to help you out, no matter how small the issue is. the mornings are his favorite, though, watching your chest rise and fall peacefully while sunlight slowly made its way across your sleeping form. he loves being able to tidy up your room and get breakfast ready for you while you peacefully sleep the sunrise away. he'd turn his head towards the hall as he heard your footsteps shuffle closer to him, a blanket draped over your sleepy figure as you greeted him.
inumaki, even with your reassurance, still feels guilty at times for not being able to talk with you how you're used to. deciphering rice ball ingredients in response to you asking when his is birthday isn't the simplest task, unfortunately. so, he always makes sure to show his love through simple tasks he can do for you. keeping extra snacks in his bag for when you get hungry during class, handing you his umbrella if he notices the sky beginning to dribble on your way home, even when you insist he keep it. he doesn't mind the rain if it's with you.
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disneyprincemuke · 9 months
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5 times * mv1
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there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know
pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader
warnings: i... don't know?
notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)
one.
"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"
it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.
after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.
until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."
"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.
he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.
but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."
"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."
for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.
one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.
"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."
there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.
"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.
it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.
"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."
his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.
he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.
it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.
"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"
there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.
he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.
now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"
he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.
he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.
you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"
"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."
he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.
"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."
then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."
"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."
max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."
you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.
you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.
he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.
"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"
and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.
"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."
two.
max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.
he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.
there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.
the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.
"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."
he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"
you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.
your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.
"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.
"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.
he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.
"i'm okay."
"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."
he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."
you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.
"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."
"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."
you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"
"g-"
"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"
he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."
you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."
he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.
thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.
and god, he wants it to him so bad.
"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.
he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.
if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.
you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."
your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.
max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.
he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.
yet, he settles with, "you're the best."
three.
max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.
next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.
if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.
his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.
great. they've caught on.
alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.
max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.
when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.
because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.
you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.
from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.
"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"
"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"
you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"
he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.
"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.
"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"
max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?
he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?
he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.
once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.
he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?
"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"
he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.
you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."
max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.
if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.
you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"
you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.
just you and him.
can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?
but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."
he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."
four.
it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.
the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.
max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.
max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.
the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"
with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."
he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.
when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.
alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"
the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.
he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.
and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.
and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.
he missed you all week.
"max?"
his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.
anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.
"can i take you out on a date?"
his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.
"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.
is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?
immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"
you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.
and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.
"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.
finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.
"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."
your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"
"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."
you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.
he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.
but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.
long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.
if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.
"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.
this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.
"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.
max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”
you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."
he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."
five.
in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.
"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.
"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."
max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."
he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.
he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.
he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.
max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."
he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.
you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"
he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."
you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"
max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.
he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.
you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.
"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."
you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."
max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.
he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."
you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."
he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.
he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.
it's just not enough for him.
the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.
thank you, you're the best.
max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.
he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?
he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.
he is feeling so many things.
then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.
and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.
"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.
his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.
"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.
his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."
he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.
your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.
then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"
his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.
max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"
and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."
you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."
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mirohlayo · 1 month
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🍓❝ you know i love and care about you, right? ❞ with lando <3
LET ME SHOW YOU
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( maybe you're insecure, but that will never bother Lando, since it's a way to remind you how much he loves you. )
warning : insecurities, fluff
word count : 1.1k
You're not the type to be jealous or insecure. Especially not about your boyfriend. You trust him with all your heart, you can never blame him for anything because he is simply perfect. Adorable and perfect.
And yet, here you are in this situation. It had become usual for everyone now, to see Lando alongside beautiful models. Pretty women, with perfect and angelic faces, elegant posture and careful gestures. Even more so when he was partying.
You didn't see any problem with it. Since after all, Lando always made you feel like the most beautiful woman, Lando always reassured you that he only had eyes for you. And you know, you can't deny a fact that is true.
But seeing him constantly surrounded by these models was perhaps something that saddened you today. So, you locked yourself in your hotel room, while Lando continued to test the car on the track. He asked you about your health, if you were okay, but you just said you were tired.
Sometimes you would glance at Instagram, instantly regretting opening the app the second different posts of Lando alongside these girls popped up. You couldn't stand this.
It's probably toxic and unhealthy, but you can't help but feel insecure. After all, who wouldn't want a rich and handsome Formula 1 driver? Especially when that meme man is a lovable personality.
The day passed slowly. You heard the distant sound of the Formula 1 engines, thinking of Lando who was driving one of them. You regretted the moment he returned to the hotel. You didn't want to appear so weak and insecure in front of him, knowing that this isn't the first time you've talked about it.
But yet, despite your complexes, despite the fact that you felt apart, Lando was always there to comfort you about your relationship.
“Hello, sweetheart.” The day is over, since you yourself are surprised to see Lando standing in front of you. You try as best you can to come back to reality, giving your lover a weak smile. “Ooh my baby, I missed you so much”. His body collapses onto yours, as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck.
You delicately stroke his curly hair, while he snuggles a little closer to you. “I missed you too, Lan.” “Of course you missed me, you stayed at the hotel all day.” A silence settles in, you didn't really know what to answer. You didn't want to tell him about your insecurities.
"Sorry. I don't like leaving you alone on the track." He lifts his head slightly, just enough for his eyes to meet yours. "Don't apologize, baby. You needed some rest." His lips press against yours, gently, delicately.
You already feel better, just from this simple kiss. It's unfair the way he manages to console you, to comfort you just by his simple presence. "I've been thinking about you all day. Even when I was in the car." His voice is muffled since his face is still hidden in the crook of your neck.
Still, it makes you smile. “You can’t do without me Lando.” You giggle slowly, while you feel a smile appear on his face. "Absolutely, I'm obsessed with you. Maybe a little too much... Fuck, I love you so much princess." A soft laugh escapes his throat as his arms wrap a little tighter around you.
But these words are enough to make you cry. Of joy, of sadness? You don't really know, but on the other hand you know that Lando's sincerity is the source of your tears. Because even without being aware of your insecurities, he manages to make them go away. To chase them away.
He always knew how to make you feel special and unique, make you feel his. Through his words and actions, he always showed only love and tenderness towards you. And even without talking about your problems, he manages to solve them with a snap of his fingers, thanks to his way of showing his affection.
Your wet tears fall on his hair, running down his neck. He senses that something is wrong, and suddenly raises his head to look at you. His face falls as he searches your face and your gaze for an answer.
"Oh my baby. Why are you crying?" He sweeps the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, cupping your face in the process. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your sobs. His lips place soft, long kisses on your face, while he gives you time to find your words.
“Take your time, princess. I’m here with you, I won’t leave.” You smile weakly at him as your tears fall once again. "I know it's childish, Lan but-" "Hey, don't ever say that again. Your problems aren't childish, you have the right to feel how you feel." He cuts you off, an expression of displeasure displayed on his face.
You nod slowly, sniffling otherwise. "I'm just... it annoys me a little to see you surrounded by pretty girls and models. I know we've talked about this before and it's something I need to work on with myself... “He encourages you to continue, gently caressing your cheeks.
"But I still feel a little insecure about it. I know you love me and I trust you, but sometimes it makes me insecure. I'm just afraid you'll find someone better than me." Lando's lips seem to curl down, to the point where his face resembles that of a puppy.
“Oh my baby girl.” He doesn't wait a second before kissing you languorously, his hands anchored on your cheeks, caressing them ever so gently. He pulls back, a soothing smile plastered on his lips. "How could I find anyone better than you? You are the very definition of the girl of my dreams."
You can't help but roll your eyes as a smile takes over. Which makes Lando smile more. “I only have you in my thoughts, my dreams and my heart. Only you my girl”. He kisses you lightly again, not being able to stop himself from smiling.
His eyes admire you as if you were the most beautiful thing on earth. Which is totally the case for him. “You know I love and care about you, right?” He leans down again to kiss the tip of your nose, as you nod eagerly. “I love you so much, Lan. I’m so in love with you.” You can only say these words in a low whisper.
His eyes crinkle into another smile, a most affectionate smile. “Then let me show you how much I am in love with you too, pretty girl”. And without further ado, he doesn't hesitate to cover your entire face with thousands and thousands of kisses.
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
Text
tw - non/con, gn!reader, somnophilia, oral sex, victim blaming, implied stalking, and obsessive behavior.
Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing.
He knows he's not the best guy out there, but if he's given a choice between saving a cat from a tree and pushing a stroller into oncoming traffic, there's a good chance he'll choose the cat. His students might give him a hard time, but he knows better than to take it to heart when Megumi says the only useful thing about his dutiful guardian in his platinum card or Maki claims he could be replaced with a low-level curse and they'd struggle to tell the difference. He's not a saint, sure, but he doesn't entirely miss the mark.
That's why you felt so comfortable tag-along with him on a mission that took you to the other side of the country, why you didn't panic when you found out the higher-ups expected you to share a single (admittedly, still bigger than he'd like for it to be) bed, why you didn't think twice before stripping down to a tank-top and sleeping shorts and passing out - too exhausted to care about sorcerer decorum. Because Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing. Gojo can normally, generally, almost always be trusted to do the right thing.
It's just that he can't be trusted to do the right thing right now.
It's not his fault, Gojo reasons as he stares unblinkingly at the mold-stained ceiling, doing his best not to let his eyes drift. He's a hot-blooded man in the prime of his life, and you're... well, you're you - beautiful, smart, oblivious you. It's not his fault that you looked so pretty in the dim light filtering in through cheap curtains, that the stuffy motel room was too hot to justify using the paper-thin bedsheets, that all your tossing and turning meant your shorts were starting to ride up your legs in a way that wanted to make him dig his teeth into your thighs and--
And look at you. With a shaky breath, he sits up and rakes his fingers through his hair. Looking never hurt anyone. That's what he tells himself, at least, as he shifts onto his knees and lets his eyes rake over the length of your body. You'd rolled onto your side since the last time he could bring himself to check - your knees pulled up and your head tucked downward. He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest for a moment, than another, before letting his attention fall lower - to where the waistband of your shorts had drifted below your hip, leaving a strip of supple flesh just a touch lower than what even the lowest-set of your jeans revealed. Both straps of your tank-top had managed to fall off of your shoulders sometime during the night, and careful not to touch you and cross a line he'd only half-heartedly set for himself, Gojo catches the flimsy fabric of your top between two fingers and tugs it downward, just enough to expose the swell of your chest and draw the material taut. Your nipples are already hard, he notes with just a little too much satisfaction. You wouldn't have been happy if you knew what he was doing, but your body might've been.
He feels his cock twitch, and he's palming it before he can stop himself. Touching himself wouldn't hurt you, either, and he wouldn't leave a mess, not if he could help it, not if he could summon that much self-restraint. Cursing under his breath, he shrugs his sweatpants down to his thighs and spits into his palm before wrapping his fist around his shaft. He's already stiff - had been from the second you started to undress, as hard as he'd tried not to acknowledge it. Biting down on his bottom lip, he pumps his hand over his cock to the tempo over your breathing, letting his mind wander to the space between your thighs. He couldn't, not without waking you up. He couldn't, but..
His attention drifts back to your lips, wet and ever so slightly parted. It wouldn't compare, but it'd have to do.
He positions himself carefully, his knees sinking into the mattress next to your head. Arousal beads at his tip, dripping down his shaft and filling the cramped room with a soft 'click, click, click' as he brings the head of his cock to your mouth, resting it gingerly on the crook of your lips. He does what little he can to swallow down his voice and smother the movement in his hips as your warm breath fans over his cock, as his fist tightens in a weak attempt to imitate how tight your throat would be, if he ever got the chance to fuck it properly.
He's thinking about how hot it would be inside of you, how adoringly your body would welcome him when his self-control snaps, when his hips buck forward and the head of his cock collides with the back of your throat. You gag sharply, your eyes snapping open and find his in an instant, expression a mix of shock and confusion and horror, pure and unadulterated. He wants to draw back. He wants to apologize. He wants to do the right thing.
Instead, he cums. His free hand falls to your head, and he holds you in place while he fucks shallowly into your mouth and rides through his orgasm. Your reaction is a pitiful thing - all choking and betrayal, but he can't seem to stop himself from grinning.
When he really thought about it, this was all your fault. You have no one to blame but yourself.
After all, Gojo can usually be trusted to do the right thing.
This time, you just didn't give him another choice.
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