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#he looks devastated that that smile has gone
jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 days
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Best Prom Ever 👗💞🪩
Chrissy asks Eddie to prom purely to piss off Jason, you're devastated but Eddie is so happy so you fake a smile and hide how you feel.
So much for the magical prom night you wished for, but not all hope is lost.
This is a fluffy, angsty fic but this is an 18+blog so mdni,
💌🎀
There's this crushing weight on your heart when Chrissy asks Eddie to the prom. It must feel like a dream for Eddie. So why does it feel like your heart is breaking into a million pieces?
It's meant to be just a typical boring Monday but now your whole world feels like it's been shaken.
Of course he says yes. Looks at you for a second before hand and you give him an encouraging smile, hide the way you feel like you can't breathe.
Chrissy was a sweetheart. She would be good for Eddie. You resolve to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest and plant a fake, happy smile on your face.
You knew the two of them had a budding friendship, but you never expected this. Eddie hated prom and everything it stood for and yet he was agreeing to go with Chrissy.
If you asked would he have gone with you? No, of course not. You slip away from their conversation, your ears are ringing and the deep ache in your chest is only getting worse.
You hurry to the bathroom and into a cubicle, lock the door and let out the tears you were struggling to keep at bay.
There was a small part of you that hoped Eddie would ask you to the prom. You could go together and make each other laugh, dance like idiots and be in your own little world.
The bubble was quickly burst seeing Chrissy ask Eddie. Of course he wouldn't say no. This was Chrissy you were talking about. She was the cheer captain and Hawkin High's princess.
Shakily you get up and head out to dry your tears, try to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest and put on a happy smile. For Eddie.
He has a smile on his face for the rest of the day and at lunch he's telling the rest of Hellfire Club what happened.
"I mean, Chrissy told me she asked me to prom to get back at Jason for being a douchebag but I can be a little bit excited right? This is Chrissy Cunningham, we're talking about" Eddie babbles on to you while you're eating lunch.
He's been talking about prom for the last ten minutes.
Jeff raises his eyebrows at Eddie. "Dude, what about the whole "Prom is just a bunch of bullshit, you'd never see me step one foot in conformist shit like that" Eddie pauses as he steals one of your fries then answers Jeff's question.
"Dude I still feel that way, however this is a chance to piss off Carver and I never want to miss an opportunity like that" he explains and you listen half heartedly.
This is why he was going? A revenge fantasy for him? The thought depresses you and you make a vow to yourself that you will enjoy prom night in a different way. Maybe you could stay at home, watch a bunch of horror movies or sappy, wholesome movies and binge on snacks.
That made you feel a little bit better. But there was still a small part of you that dreaded Friday night.
💌🎀
Eddie shows up at your house half an hour before prom. Well, he climbs up through your window like he always does and nearly ruins his outfit.
He looks gorgeous, he's paired his leather jacket with a black dress shirt and black jeans. He frowns as his eyes trail over you.
"Why aren't you dressed yet? Proms starting in half an hour"
"Oh, I'm not going to the dance" you shrug and Eddie gapes at you. His big brown eyes are wide and searching as you flop back down in your bed, already cosy in your comfiest nightwear and ready to binge watch your favourite movies.
"But..." You turn to him and fake a smile once again, fuck, you were getting pretty good at this.
"Go and have fun Eddie"
"It won't be the same without you princess" you feel a tug at your heart but shake your head. No. You were not giving yourself false hope that deep down Eddie had feelings for you.
"Don't be silly, you'll be with Chrissy, you'll have a great time" you assure him and he gives you a faint smile.
"But my best girl won't be there" fuck. Why did he have to say such sweet things, he's still lingering so you give him a gentle nudge to the door. He looks back at you one more time and then he's gone.
Your night of movies and binging in ice cream is interrupted by Steve. He comes into your room and is at your closet, pulling out the dress you bought for prom.
When you were secretly hoping maybe Eddie would ask you.
"Steve, what the hell are you doing?" He turns around with one hand on his hip and gives you that "Mom" stare he usually reserves for the kids.
"You're not holing up in your room feeling sorry for yourself and missing prom. I missed prom because I felt shitty about Nance and you were there for me. Now I'm returning the favor. Get dressed honey"
You're tempted but the thought of seeing Eddie with Chrissy hurts your heart all over again.
"I don't know if I can watch Eddie with Chrissy, having the time of their lives. I mean, of course I want him to have fun but do I have to see it?" Steve settles beside you and puts his arm around you.
"I'm going with you. Robin and Vickie too. Fuck Eddie Munson, you will go and have the time of your life with us, now get dressed" he orders.
"So bossy", you mutter but kiss his cheek before you take the dress into your bathroom and start getting ready .
💞💌🎀
Prom is boring. He kinda expected it but it's even worse now he's here. The music is shitty and while Chrissy is really a sweetheart, all he can think about is you.
Would prom be more fun if you were here? Absolutely yes. Jason is glaring daggers at him and that is barely giving him any satisfaction.
Chrissy is looking at him all sympathetic and that doesn't help his mood. "Is yn not coming?" She looks around for you and Eddie shakes his head glum.
"No, she's having a movie night instead" Chrissy bites her lip, looking shocked.
"It's prom. She can't miss prom" he shrugs the weight of your absence weighing heavy on him, he's so tempted to just ditch this shit and go and be with you.
Chrissy softens when she looks at him, "You're really not having a good time huh? I'm sorry, I thought at the time this would be a good idea, but you're missing your girl and well... I miss Jason" she murmurs softly and Eddie while he doesn't get how anyone could miss Carver, he does sympathise with her.
"I think I've ruined everything" he replies and the small bubble of panic inside of him grows bigger and bigger when he thinks about you on your own.
"Oh Eddie, I think you need to go and see her. You haven't ruined anything, she just doesn't know how you feel. Maybe because you realised at the last minute" Chrissy scolds him.
Doesn't realise how you feel... He goes over Chrissy's words several times before realising she's right.
He's head over heels. For you.
"Shit" Eddie yelps and ignores the way some of his classmates look their way. Chrissy still looks disappointed in him and that doesn't help either.
"Wait, why are you pissed at me?" He asks Chrissy confused, she looks at him like he's grown two heads and sighs.
"Eddie, you've left your best friend all alone while she's hurting and trying to put on a brave face because she doesn't realise that you like her back. She's been so nice to me so I'm pissed for her that it took you so long to get your head out of your ass"
Eddie winces and nods. Yup, he deserved that. Then his heart skips a beat as he repeats her words.
"You really think she feels the same?" Chrissy's glare softens and she nods. Oh fuck, yeah he had messed up.
"Oh wow" Chrissy gasps and he turns around to where she's staring at and there you are in a beautiful dress, looking ethereal and like an angel as you enter the room.
You were here after all. His heart is going a mile a minute but sinks as he sees you with Steve. Then it lightens when Robin and Vickie arrive at the same time.
Chrissy is looking at him expectantly and he swallows as he looks at you with Steve. He messed up. He should be the one making you smile like that.
"I think I'm too late. She's with Steve" he mutters and Chrissy shakes her head looking exasperated.
"Most likely as friends. Eddie I've never seen you be shy in your life so will you go and get the girl and stop being a wimp" he gapes at Chrissy's words then nods.
Yeah, he was Eddie the Brave. He could do this.
💞💞
Eddie walks over to you, he looks nervous which is rare for him. He's also staring at you in a way that makes you feel butterflies. Why wasn't he with Chrissy.
"You came" he sounds so relieved and this surprises you but he was your friend, of course he would want to see you at prom. It didn't mean anything else.
"Wait, why aren't you with Chrissy?" You ask him curiously and notice she's dancing with Jason.
"Yeah, it was a big mistake coming with her, huge. Should have taken my best girl instead of getting sucked into some dumb revenge scheme" wait...what?
"Eddie. This is Chrissy we are talking about, she's queen B and she's so sweet and kind and...' he cuts you off, his eyes softening as he gazes at you.
"She's not you" three words but there is so much meaning behind them. Oh. Well shit. Maybe there was hope after all.
"I was coming to see you. Prom isn't prom without my girl. I should have asked you because...because you're everything to me and I'm so in love with you"
Slow music begins to play, your classmates are chatting loudly, giggling but you can only focus on Eddie. "You do?" he nods and holds out his hand which you take.
"I love you too" you blurt out and he grins all dimples and happiness. Pulls you closer to him and the two of you sway to the music.
Eddie dances with you, has your hand in his and holds it over his heart. He leans down and kisses you. The whole world melts away in that moment and it's just the two of you, passionately kissing and lost in each other.
"Best prom ever" you whisper to him and lay your head on his chest. His fingers caress your hair and sway to the music with the guy you love.
🎀❤️
Take my breath away
My love, take my breath away
My love, take my breath away
My love, take my breath away
Take my breath away - Berlin
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fairy-angel222 · 14 days
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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 ft. Choso Kamo
—You meet Choso at a bar after babysitting him eight years ago
cw: small age gap (25 n 23), smut
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It’s been a long time since you’d seen Choso Kamo. Having babysat him back when he was twelve and you were fifteen. A mere three years gap which deemed you mature enough for the job by his parents.
He’d never tell it to you, but you were his childhood crush. The girl he wanted to marry. The girl he told his friends about. His parents kept you around for only two years. Concluding that the boy was old enough to take care of himself.
He was devastated, especially when you found out that you’d be moving only a week later. He knew his feelings weren’t returned, but it hurt to see you go. He cried for weeks, couldn’t eat or sleep. He just wanted to see you again.
He hoped that maybe you’d text him, check up on him like you did when it was your duty. But you didn’t. You’d be turning eighteen the next year and would go off to college. And he’d be stuck there, without you for the rest of his life.
It had been eight years, and Choso sat in a bar with his friends. Their glasses clanking loudly against each other as they downed its contents. He hated crowded places like this, he wouldn’t even be there if not for his friends.
He’d gone to college, gotten his fair share of girls. Everything you promised him that he could do one day, the only thing missing was you.
“Choso? Oh my God is that you?”
It couldn’t be.
Choso’s mouth went dry as his head snapped in the direction of that familiar voice. A wide smile on his face as he took you in. “Y/n.. you.. I- wow.”
There you stood, after so long, grown into your body and as pretty as ever. You didn’t look a day over nineteen. It hurt to remind himself that you were not twenty five. It had been that long.
You giggled softly, that same giggle that he swore made his heart flutter. “It’s so good to see you Cho. It’s been so long.” You pulled him in for a hug and he stiffened, taking in that sweet scent that you always carried. It really was you. He allowed himself to hug you back tightly, pulling your shorter frame into his chest as he closed his eyes. Enjoying your embrace.
“It really has. I missed you.” He let slip out, and you smiled sadly as you pulled away. “I’m sorry Cho.. i didn’t think i’d have to move. Would have been nice to see you graduate and stuff.”
“No no it’s okay. It’s fine. I’m really glad to see you.” He could see his friends winking at his side, all watching intently at the interaction. It made him fidget, lip between his teeth as his face flushed a pale red. “How about i buy you a drink?”
“Sure.” You smiled, allowing him to lead you to the counter with a hand on the small of your back.
The two of you sat and talked. A long conversation about your lives and how each of you had been over the years. It made him happy to know that you were single, and it made him even happier to know that your ex had been your only since you were his age.
He started at you intently as you spoke. A special adoration in his eyes as you went on about your job and your friends. You were still so perfect. He wondered how you would feel if he told you that he never got over you. He’d first have to tell you that he had liked you, of course.
You could not lie. He was extremely handsome. He’d grown to be your type. Nothing like the adorably introverted boy you’d known back then.
Choso on the other hand, could not think straight. His mind was taking in everything at once. Your stories, your face, your lips, your hair, your dress which hugged your body in a way that made his mind wander. You somehow managed to captivate him even more. Especially since he was grown now, he knew what he wanted. His parents told him you were just a harmless crush, a phase. But he knew what he wanted for certain now. You.
It was how you ended up in his apartment. Both your hands roaming each other’s bodies as Chosos kissed you passionately. His hand around your throat gently to push you to the nearest surface. He kissed you like you would disappear at any moment, letting his lips trail down to your neck before leading you to his bedroom, your dress and his shirt having been discarded by the time you reached the door.
Choso pulled off his pants, and you allowed yourself to take in the muscles on his body. And the way his arms flexed as he held you tight.
He slipped on a condom, backing you up to his bed until you fell back onto it, Choso climbing over you with your tongues still intertwined.
You moaned when you felt him prodding at your hole. Easing his length into you with a groan of his own. He started off slow, rolling his hips into yours while breathing heavily onto your skin, his tongue swirling around your nipple while his hand squeezed at the soft flesh.
Your fingers were tangled in his hair, tugging on dark strands when he began to speed up. Thrusting into you expertly as you moaned out into the room. “Choso, hmm— fuck.” You mewled, back arching off the sheets when he started hitting you g spot with every movement. Pulling out nothing but moans past your lips as you fell into pleasure.
“Swearing’s bad, remember?” He breathed jokingly, reminding you back to when you’d say that each time he said a bad word.
You moaned out a small laugh, breaths ragged as your toes curled, feeling his fucking you deeper than you thought could be reached. “O-oh God— don’t stop. Please don’t stop. F-feels so good.” You cried, noises pretty and high pitched as your stomach burned, feeling your inching closer and closer to orgasm.
“S-shit. Had a crush on you f’ so long. Never thought this would be happening.” He grunted deeply. “Though i got over you till i saw you tonight.” His eyes met yours and you fought the urge to tell him that you knew, you’d known all along. He had just been a little boy with a crush. But now.. it was so much different. You craved him after seeing him. You wanted him.
“Ahh, ‘m so close Cho.. ‘m gonna cum.” You moaned, vision going black as you let your eyes shut, arms wrapping around his shoulders as your body was rocked back and forth.
“Go ahead sweetheart, cum f’ me yeah? I’ve got you, just let go kay?”
You nodded with a cry, body shaking as you let go. Allowing yourself to crumble underneath him as you came. Drenching his cock in your slick.
Choso’s thrusts became sloppy and he groaned, “That’s it. So good for me. Haah— shit.” Burying himself deep inside you before spilling into the condom which separated you. Unable to stop himself from imagining breeding you raw.
You both panted as you struggled to catch your breaths. Holding onto each other in a comfortable silence after he pulled out.
“That was..”
“Yeah,” He agreed. There was no going back after this.
He got both you and him cleaned up, giving you one of his shirts to wear as you let yourself cuddle into him on the couch. Watching a movie with two beers as he stroked your skin gently. Chin on your head as he tried to wrap his head around exactly what just happened.
This was serious. It didn’t feel like another one of his one-night stands, it felt real. It felt like there could actually be something between you. And he would do whatever he could to make it happen.
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pierregazly · 25 days
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tying you to me ꨄ max verstappen
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max verstappen x reader
warnings: sweet max, random coincidences to lovers trope, happy ending [wc: 4.3k]
[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you).
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Time, curious time  Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs  Were there clues I didn't see? 
It felt like a never-ending nightmare. 
One thing after another, one bad day after another, one bad week after the next. It felt like it was never going to end. 
The person that was supposed to be that person, the man that was supposed to be forever, the person that was going to be standing at the end of the aisle... leaving with a simple apology and a ‘I’m sorry, it’s me, not you’... it was incomprehensible.  
It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around what had gone wrong. Was he telling the truth? Was it really him? Or was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the blunder? The inevitable demise?  
Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you, it was so evident it wasn’t meant to be. Nothing connected to him, there were no signs pointing to him being the one, there was no inevitable connection. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the internal heartbreak that felt like it was never going to end. 
All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling, that pulled you to another person, that proved they were the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know that it was so obvious, he just wasn’t that person. 
The coffee shop you currently sat in had become a morning staple after the last few weeks. After coming back to Monaco for a much-needed reprieve from the rest of the world, the little coffee shop nestled into the charming walls of Monte-Carlo had become a necessary distraction to the outside. 
The employees all knew you by name now, often passing by the table and inquiring about your day, inquiring about the book you were reading, or the work assignment shown on your computer screen. Always engaging in polite conversation back, it was one of your favourite places to be. 
People-watching was the only negative of it. The loving couples who passed through, all cuddled up together as they ordered their drinks for their walk throughout the city, the older couples who sat just tables away and reminisced on their lives together. It was the only thing that drove you crazy about the charming little shop.  
Watching them occupied your thoughts more time’s than you cared to admit. Daydreaming and losing focus on the outside world was a commonality, especially in the little coffee shop. 
It was exactly where you found yourself currently, your eye’s peering to the left as you watched an older man place his hand over who you assumed to be his wife’s hand. Their wedding bands shining brightly in the Monaco sun, soft smiles on their faces as they peered at one another, your heart begging to be let out of this turmoil, begging you to turn away and focus on something else, anything else. 
Its wish was granted when you felt the cold of a drink begin to sink into your shirt, instantly soaking your skin, a gasp of shock falling from your lips. 
“Oh god, I am so sorry. I just turned around and you were right there, let me grab some cloths, please.” 
You knew instantly it was your own fault, you hadn’t been paying attention, more focused on the elderly couple, prompting the person in front of you to spill their... was that Red Bull? On your shirt? 
“Is this Red Bull?”  
The man in front of you grimaced as he handed you the dry cloths, a small smile falling across his lips while his eyes crinkled with the movement of his face. A bit of a cute look, you thought to yourself while beginning to dab at your shirt as the smell of the energy drink wafted up your nose. 
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I don’t drink coffee often, but my sister wanted to stop here because she had heard good things, I was just waiting for her drink while she took a quick call outside. I really only drink Red Bull in public when I have to, or when I’m getting paid to. I thought it was her behind me when I whipped around like that, I’m so sorry. Please, can I buy you a coffee as an apology? Or a tea?” 
You weren’t entirely sure if the rambling was out of nerves that you were going to overreact over the spilt drink, or if he just simply felt like he owed it to you to explain the entire incident and how it came about in full description. 
The frustration that was brewing was not at all a fault of the cute man in front of you, but an accumulation of days of sadness, an irregular appetite, and just a combination of heartbreak. 
Trying to keep the tears of frustration at bay, you instantly shook your head towards the cute man in front of you. “Thank you, but no. Obviously this is a sign I need to go home, sorry for spilling your drink.” 
Before he could get the chance to say anything back, you were forcing yourself to rush out of the coffee shop before an outburst could erupt from inside of you. You hadn’t even noticed the look of intrigue that the Dutchman gave you. 
Bad was the blood of the song in the cab  On your first trip to LA  You ate at my favorite spot for dinner 
The memory of the handsome Dutchman in the small coffee shop left your mind not long before the happy memories of your ex-boyfriend finally forced themselves out of your head. Things had finally begun looking up, the more time you spent with your friends, the more time you spent focusing on work and the hopeful promotion that would come with it. 
Although, your boss had insisted you take a few weeks off, citing the fact you were there more than anyone she knew, and that burnout was inevitable if you didn’t take the much deserved and obligated time off. The amount of overtime and banked hours allowing you to take the time off with full pay just made it easier to agree. 
Which was exactly how you found yourself just south of Zurich, the snow whipping past your face as the ski lift ascended higher and higher up the mountain. Your friends giggled beside you, smiles lighting up everyone’s faces. 
Winter break, although cold and snowy, was always a fan favourite amongst your friend group. It was exhilarating, you hadn’t had the chance to attend the annual ski trip while you were with your ex-boyfriend, he hated skiing and anything including winter sports.  
It’s what made the trip even better, getting the chance to catch up with your friends and their partners, the chance to laugh, and drink, and just smile again. It was all worth it.  
The group of guys in the ski lift behind obviously had the same idea, hooting and hollering at each other as the ski lift continued its ascent. You couldn’t decipher what they were saying, the words in a different language, but the name ��Max’ seemed to be a commonality. Maybe someone was missing their dog while on vacation? Who knows.  
After hours of skiing, the alcohol in the ski lodge was flowing. The laughter and happiness from every group was prevalent, everyone there was so obviously happy to get away from the real world. It’s what places like that were for. 
“That guy over there can’t stop looking at you,” jostled out of your thoughts by one of your friends, you followed her head inclination to one of the tables a few rows down, a familiar face looking back at you inquisitorially.  
It took you a second to place his face, the day in the coffee shop floating back to your mind prompting a small laugh to fall from your lips.  
“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull all over me when I ran into him in the coffee shop in Monaco, remember?” 
It had been a running joke, a typical meet-cute in a coffee shop, but instead of spilt coffee... a spilt Red Bull.  
“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull on you?” 
One of your friend’s boyfriends gaped at you, as he continuously maneuvered his look between you and the man in question. Nodding your head, he continued to gape at you. 
“Don’t you know who that is?” Giving him a look, you shook your head. 
“That’s the Max Verstappen. Three-time Formula 1 World Champion? Dutch God? Second-coming of the Formula 1 Jesus?” 
You recognized the name, having heard it at the few races you had attended, but you never would’ve been able to place the name to the face otherwise. 
A laugh erupted from one of the other members of the group, a shove directed at the other man. “I think you've got Verstappen mixed up with Lewis Hamilton.”  
“He’s kinda cute, huh?” One of the girls pointed out to you, a small giggle falling from her lips as she looked over towards the man in question, his eyes meeting yours as you looked in his direction again. 
His hair was flopped over, obviously a combination of a long day wearing a ski helmet and a hat, mixed with the combination of the sweat and heat that engulfed the inside of the lodge made him look even more attractive. Windswept, tipsy, and overall, just happy. 
“So much better than that last loser.” A mutual agreement of ‘yes’, ‘obviously’, and ‘fucking no wonder’, floated throughout your group at your friend’s words. 
Shrugging them off, you just laughed and pushed the conversation in another direction and away from the man sitting across the room, who seemed as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you at all. 
As the night started to dwindle down, you bid goodnight to the remaining group of friends and started your route back to your room. 
“At least I have nothing to spill on you tonight.” 
Directing your gaze to the voice at hand, your eyes made direct contact with the blue irises of Max Verstappen.  
Quirking an eyebrow at him as a small laugh left your lips, “I’m sure the bars fully stocked with drinks you could spill on me. You’re just not trying hard enough.” 
A loud guffaw fell from the man’s mouth, his hands instinctively covering his mouth as he laughed. You couldn’t help the heat that grew on your cheeks at his reaction, his smile directed towards you when he finally moved his hands from his face. 
“I’m so very sorry. Next time I run into you, I’ll try to make sure I have a full drink in hand to spill on you.” 
“Oh, you plan on running into me again?” 
Shrugging his shoulders with a small grin, the Dutchman just laughed. “Well, I ran into the person I spilt a Red Bull in a coffee shop on in one of my favourite places in Switzerland, I’m sure I’m bound to run into you again. Things happen in three’s, don’t they?” 
Max ran a hand through his hair as he smiled at you, before either of you could get the chance to say anything else, one of his friends was clapping a hand against his shoulder with a boisterous laugh. 
“Time to get out of here, mate. Say goodnight to the pretty girl,” he said. 
You felt your cheeks heating again, as Max smiled at you in farewell, a small wave from both of you any indication of goodbye as you both walked away. 
Time, mystical time  Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine  Were there clues I didn't see? 
F1 race weekends were as fun as they were busy. Any race you had attended since you were an intern was always focused primarily on working. Getting the opportunity to attend a race with your friends, in Melbourne, without having to worry about work or advertising, or anything else, was obviously the best way to spend it. 
Lou, one of your friends linked her arm with yours as she basically skipped through the hospitality area, pointing out the different garages as she got a glimpse of them. Her boyfriend, Nick, had gotten both of you passes through his own work, a long-term employee of McLaren meant that the both of you had been spoiled for the weekend. 
"Maybe you’ll end up running into Max again, imagine? A third little meet-cute,” she said, with a giggle.  
Rolling your eyes at her, you just laughed as she grinned back. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s totally possible, I’m sure Nick could totally convince Lando to convince Max to pass by the garage or the hospitality. We could totally orchestrate it.” 
“Babe, it’s pure coincidence I’ve run into the guy more than once. I’m not like... going out of my way to run into Max Verstappen.” 
Huffing back at you, Lou sent a mock pout in your direction as she continued to drag you through the hospitality center. Passing a stand full of travel cups of coffee, you were eager to grab one as you walked by. 
Before you could even press the lid of the cup to your lips, you were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice, yet again.  
“Is it your turn to spill something on me, then? I’m having a pretty bad day, and I don’t know if I can handle that.” 
Both you and Lou whipped around to the sound of the man’s voice, the man who just a short time ago had been forced to retire his race due to a faulty and on fire brake. You could practically feel Lou humming with excitement as she looked between you and Max. 
Shoving her hand out in his direction, Lou introduced herself to Max who did the same back. 
“With that, I’m going to see how everything’s going in the garage. Call me if you get lost, yeah?” Without giving you the chance to argue, she bolted away.  
Silently groaning, you looked back towards Max. For someone who just retired from a race he was probably going to win, he seemed relatively calm and relaxed. 
“So, are you?” 
“Am I what?” You questioned back, confused. 
“Are you going to spill your coffee on me, in retaliation for the Red Bull?” Instantly shaking your head, obviously the retirement from the race couldn’t have affected him too negatively, if he was already cracking jokes in your direction. 
“You don’t even know my name, and you’re accusing me of wanting to go out of my way to kick a man when he’s already down?” 
Watching his face fall, you could tell he was about to defend his words. A smile began to cross your face, his eyes jokingly narrowing in your direction. 
Sticking your hand out towards him, you finally introduced yourself, your name falling from his lips as if it was a beautiful word from a testament as he took your hand. It would be embarrassing to say a small spark shot up your arm, but the racing driver had inevitably shocked you, an apology dropping from his lips almost immediately. 
“Terrible race to stalk me at, though. You couldn’t have at least made it a race that I actually stood a chance at winning? Pretty embarrassing to have to retire for such a stupid reason, in front of such a pretty girl.”  
If there was one thing other than racing that Max was good at, it was making your cheeks warm and the butterflies in your stomach spike.  
“Well... I am here as a guest of McLaren... maybe I was just really hoping for a Piastri win. Gotta root for the hometown boy, right?” 
Shaking his head, Max mockingly pressed his hand to his chest and looked at you like he was internally wounded. 
“You’d support McLaren over me? The man who runs into you in the weirdest of places? Who gave you a free Red Bull without a can?” he said. 
You could barely help the small snort that fell from your lips at his words, your hand instantly slapping against your lips in horror. Max openly laughed at your reaction, arm gently hitting your shoulder with a grin. 
“Just for that, I’ll support Ferrari before I support you and your Red Bull’s. I don’t think Charles Leclerc would spill a Red Bull on me.” 
In response, Max grinned and pointed in the direction of the Ferrari garage, the red and yellow prominent amongst the stone. “Shall I go introduce you to Charles, then? He’d probably spill an actual hot coffee on you, at least I didn’t leave any lasting damage.” 
“The trauma of smelling like an original Red Bull for more than 2 hours isn’t enough damage?” you questioned, your eyebrows quirking up at him. 
Max looked at you in horror, “You can’t possibly be saying you don’t think the smell of an original, cold, fresh out of a fridge, Red Bull isn’t just simply lovely. This is potentially the biggest red flag about you.” 
You were quick on your feet, the words dropping from your lips before you could contain them. 
“I guess we’re all on fire today, then. Red flags left and right.” you said with a smirk. 
All Max did was laugh at your words, his head rolling back while his hands placed themselves on his hips.  
Just as he had been the last two times, Max was interrupted before he could continue the conversation, a lady in a Red Bull sweater tapping him on the shoulder to let him know he needed to make his way back to the garage for some interviews that had been requested of him.  
“Nice seeing you again, I’m sure next time I see you, you’ll probably heal more of my Red Bull soaked shirt trauma.”  
The only response he gave was a loud laugh and a wave, as he walked away. 
Time, wondrous time  Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies 
The FIA year-end Gala was exquisite. Everyone was dressed to the nines, the lights were twinking, the service was lovely, and the atmopshere was electric. 
Even though, for almost all of the people there, it was a requirement of their jobs, everyone seemed as if they were having a wonderful time. Mingling with those around them, actively engaging in conversation with co-workers, friends, long-time acquaintances.  
Your boss had elected that you and a fellow co-worker attend in her place, admitting that although she loved the excitement of the night, she needed a break from the glitz and the glam of Formula 1 for a tiny bit. She knew you were more than willing to take her place and do an incredible job.  
Which is exactly how you found yourself at a table with Jack, one of your co-workers, a wide grin on his face as he observed everything going on around him. He was new to the company, just having recently completed his internship and been offered a full-time position with the organization. It was his first time at a Formula 1 event of any kind. 
“Isn’t this brilliant? I’m a huge motorsports fan, I wanted to get into karting when I was a kid but it was just too expensive, my parents couldn’t afford that. I’ve never even had the opportunity to go to a race, and now I’m in the same building, the same room as literal race drivers. Have you been to a race before?” 
You forgot how much he could yap, an almost over-eager human equivalent of an excited golden retriever. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer to his question. 
“I’ve been to a few races for work, and a few privately with some friends. They’re always a great time, you’ll have lots of fun when you start going for work.” you said. 
Grinning at your words, you began to tune him out as he launched into another rant. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of someone saying your name, your head swiveling in the direction of the voice. 
You were almost positive Jack was squealing out loud, as Max Verstappen once again entered your view. Smiling up at him, you stood up to greet the Dutchman, which resulted in him pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, his hand gently patting you on the back as he did so. 
“I just wanted to come by and say hello. You look very beautiful.”  
Unable to contain the anxious laugh that fell from your lips, you immediately smiled at him. Accepting compliments was obviously not your forte, especially when they were coming from Max, who looked more handsome than ever in his suit, and the wide smile on his cheeks pulling everything together. 
“Never thought I’d see you in anything other than jeans and a Red Bull shirt, Max. You look lovely, as well.” 
“Making fun of me, and a compliment all in one? I will say, I probably would’ve worn jeans if I could, but my public relations manager likely would’ve murdered me and I quite enjoy being alive,” he said. 
Shaking your head in silent laughter, you barely even noticed as Jack thrust his hand out to introduce himself to Max.  
“Your girlfriend is lovely, mate. This is what, the fourth time I’ve run into you?” Max said in greeting, a somewhat tight smile on his face. 
Jack instantly shook his head, “Oh god no, we’re co-workers. I don’t mean she’s not lovely, she is. I’m not her type, or actually she’s not my type. I’m yapping, this is embarrassing. Mr. Verstappen, it was really nice to meet you. I need a drink. I’m sorry.” 
He practically sprinted away, both you and Max looked on with amused grins present on your faces. 
“So, if he’s not your boyfriend, does that mean one of the guys you were with in Switzerland are?” 
Shaking your head, “God, no. Those are friends I’ve known for years. I’m very much single, right now.” 
Max looked like he was in complete contemplation as he debated what to say next. You were secretly hoping he would take the bait, maybe ask if you were free after the gala, or ask how long you were going to be in town for. 
Running into him again once was by chance, twice was a coincidence, and thrice was obviously a sign. The universe was obviously trying to tell you something, there was a reason this man, who had first shown up in your life just after one of the worst heartbreaks you had ever experienced, continued to show up. It was hard to not get your hopes up, to not get ahead of yourself. 
It was hard to keep the butterflies at bay, truthfully.  
“Hypothetically, does that mean you’re free after the gala?” 
“Hypothetically... I man be free after the gala,” you responded. 
Nodding his head, Max smiled in your direction. “I think it would be a crime to let this beautiful dress, and my efforts to wear a suit for something go to waste. I’d love to take you out after.” 
And isn't it just so pretty to think  All along there was some  Invisible string  Tying you to me? 
Max had been transparent from the beginning; he wasn’t overly affection nor was he a fan of excessive cuddling. He got warm often, and the moment he got too warm when he was in bed, he got miserable. But when he wanted to cuddle? You had to take what he would give you.  
Which was exactly how you found yourselves right now, Max playfully attempting to whack your phone out of your hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he burrowed his head into your neck. 
“Schatje, I just wanna cuddle for a bit. Give me a little attention.” 
Slapping gently at his arm, you looked at him in mock exasperation. All you ever did was give him attention, he almost took the words out of your mouth when he muttered, “I know you give me plenty of attention, don’t yell at me.” 
You just shook your head silently as you used your free hand to gently twirl small tuffs of his hair, a small hum of content falling from his lips at your movements. 
“What are you looking at?”  
Attempting to look over at your phone, you moved the screen so he could see it better. It was a video from your first ever Formula 1 race, back when you were still a little intern and your boss had wanted you to gain some exposure to the sport. 
“I’m just looking back at some videos. Found this one from my first ever race. I didn’t even know I still had this.” 
Max instantly perked up and looked at your phone, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher something in the video. 
“Do you remember which race it was? Looks like it’s a few years old, yeah?”  
Nodding your head, you tried to do the math in your head, thinking back to what year you first started your internship. “I think it was 2016? It was definitely in Spain, but I’m pretty positive it was 2016.” 
“Do you know what that means?” Max questioned, a soft smile on his lips as he pressed a small kiss to the junction between your chin and throat before looking back up at you. 
Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to determine what he could be talking about, giving him the chance to continue.  
“My first ever win in Formula 1, for Red Bull, was the 2016 Spanish Grand Prix. Isn’t that so ironic? Guess things were always meant to be.” 
Maybe he was right. 
Maybe there was always a string, a small, invisible string, tying everything together, tying you to him.  
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genuinely i got this into my mind and felt like i was legally obligated to write it asap. i hope you LOVE it and i would so appreciate it if you told me if you do. thank you, love you all 🫶🏻
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silkythewriter · 3 months
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Heyy so weird request but could you do a vox x reader who has a kinda one sided rivalry with him in the sense every time he releases tech she'll challenge herself to make a better version
Vox with a one sided rivalry with reader!
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Warnings!: A tad tinne winne bit of angst!, sorry if he’s OOC! (˃̣̣̥ ^˂̣̣̥`)
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!: OOOOOO I haven’t written rivals to lovers in a bit! Hopefully it’s not too bad!
( ̄▽ ̄)💧
Summary!: One sided rivalry with are favorite TV demon (ノ ≧∀≦)ノ
❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
“In the morning, you would gone
I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To
the memory of your lips God,
I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?“
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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Devastated, like actually in greif
After YEARS of not even a single demon upon billions below in the forsaken place called hell could make a DENT in the empire he built. But then you came along! With all your Gezmos and trinkets! (He refuses to call them anything other then that)
He is insecure, no matter how much he puts a face on about not having a fear in the world. He dose, he’s terrified of being replaced or knocked off the top!
The first time you released something after he did he merely laughed. You? A small tiny little business? What idiot would do that!? Your product was most definitely gonna be looked over!
Or that is what he thought at first (ಡ‸ಡ)…
Soon he realized how quick your growth to fame was. And honestly had a melt down, who even were you?!
He makes back handed complements on his TV show like for example “and on recent news a new technology has been released by *insert your name/company name*, looks a bit cheap but it’s okay for their first time!”
Yea expect those a lot…
He’s use to company’s butting heads with him, but he always squashed them in under a day! If not less!, so he was bewildered when you just kept popping up everywhere. He doesn’t even know how. half of the channels in hell are owned or under his name! Or at least played on HIS tvs!.
And when he released a product only for the next day for it to get a bit over shadowed by yours he loses it. He immediately thinks your doing this on purpose, he thinks your doing this as a means to get his attention.
Will never admit it but he bought one just to break it outta rage but after a bit he understood the hype, will take this to his second death bed.
He’s never had a good look at you before maybe a small invention or gala for some of the highest company owners in hell. And let me tell you when this man saw you he was shocked, it took velvet to snap her fingers for him to get out of his trans-like-state. He’s more embarrassed then he’s ever been, not only are your products prove to be a good runner up to his but you were making min lose his breath.
He didn’t wanna believe at first before velvet confirmed it to him.
And may i say, the minute you glanced at him and gave him a charming smile while waving your hand at him with a small glint of pride in your eyes, he actually had a system crashed screen as his whole system rebooted.
It wouldn’t be long till you made your way over to him trying to introduce yourself(•̀ᴗ•́)و
Honestly he couldn’t think straight until you excused yourself to talk to another business owner. He dosent understand, for all the years he’s been dead how is his heart beating so fast for you?
In denial about any feelings towards you, it can’t be! He despises you !, right?
Takes him a bit to work up the courage to talk to you again, as he introduced himself properly with as much passive aggressive charm he could muster. Only to be confused at your sweet yet passive aggressive smile as you shook his hand with such care
How can someone be so competitive yet so sweet?
We’re you trying to woo him on purpose!?(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
He didn’t understand even though he knew your intent, and the underlying nature in your interaction. He still found it charming, and shocking at you technical level and marking tactics. He isn’t happily impressed, but he is definitely impressed, he would never show that though of course.
It always seemed no matter how much of a short time between releases you always managed to make it better he just didn’t understand how!. How did you have such short time to perfect something that he’s been working at for months!
He soon realizes out shinning you or squashing you business wasn’t gonna work. You guys were too evenly matched, it would be through pure luck that one of you would out shine the other one day and not the next. So he did the best next thing, purposed a business deal (quite reluctantly might I add)
To just merge company’s he knew your rise wouldn’t falter anytime soon.
At first you felt like this was a trick, to steal your soul or take you out while your walls were down. But he quickly explained it’d be easier to just have you work on things and share the profit (surprise, surprise)
Now you can decide weather you accept or not!
But after that meeting he would call you over for many more strictly for business meetings! Definitely not just desperate to spend time with you or anything
Even when you proposed to just, email, or text, he still declined saying he found it easier to say what he needed out loud. Definitely…. (≖ᴗ≖✿)
Sooner or later you’d catch on, or some people on the news would gossip of your “secret affairs”
You would soon confront him about this, and let me tell you this man is decent at standing under pressure in some if not most situations expect this one.
I feel like he wouldn’t admit it till MANY months later cause he’s just that stubborn
He just hates it, he hates your stupid smile, the way you make his stomach do back flips, the small glint of happiness and pride when your product is loved and bought by the millions. He hates the smile you keep even if at a rivalry with him. He hates everything about you, he hates it, he hates it so much he ends up realizing he loves it.
Yea he is one complicated man….
But once he finally admits it, and you end up giving it a shot. This guy would try to act like he wasn’t about to shut down, like his inner fans and vents weren’t about to self implode, he’d act cool and collected about it but behind closed doors he’s quite literally smiling like a dope
NOW if this were released to the public, the mess that would ensue is scandals upon scandals.
I mean! Imagine the head lines! “Two of hells most biggest company rivals now together?!”
News is fast to spreed lemme tell you that
I feel like he would rather have the relationship private but if it got out…let’s just say he wouldn’t stop it either per say (¬‿¬)
Overall! I feel like even if it was a one sided rivalry I feel like it would quickly turn to both of you butting heads. Cause to out shine the king of tech himself is quite the challenge, and you being able to do that says a lot!, he’ll be holding a grudge even into a relationship and still would get competitive here to there he would definitely still study your work to see how you improve so fast!. Still in the end of the day he’ll still dote on you behind close doors!
ପ(๑•̀ᴗ-♡ॢ)⋆*✩
★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★
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WOWZA THAT WAS ALOT OH MY GOSH
ヘ(。□°)ヘ
I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!, I haven’t written rivals to lover plot in a bit BUT MY GOSH NESS ITS VERY FUN TO PLAY AROUND WITH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN! O(≧▽≦)O
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abyssruler · 1 year
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would they choose you over the world?
aether (traveler), dainsleif, scaramouche, raiden ei, lumine (abyss), venti, xiao x gn!reader
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AETHER thinks he can save both, no, he knows he can. The powers of this world rests at the tips of his fingers. He’s faced monsters and gods and come out alive and better than he was before. There’s no reason to hesitate, none whatsoever to consider his decision but—but. He has never been made to choose before. There was always another way, another choice, another something he could rely on. It’s a moral dilemma, like the situation with the train where you either save five people and kill one person, or kill five people to save one person. It’s easy enough to answer when it was simply that—a moral dilemma created to confuse him, not a world ending decision that lies on his shoulders. To choose one is to doom the other. Most people would choose the world, but while Aether is called a hero and the savior of nations, he is also a person. He looks at your resigned smile, like you already know which one he’ll choose, and he decides to prove you wrong.
DAINSLEIF clings to loss like a dying man does to the edge of a cliff. The inevitability of death and your mortality rests on his shoulders much like weight of his entire nation’s death. He wonders what it says about him that he’d rather have you safe and sound than have the world be saved. Five hundred years of aimless wandering, fighting against the remnants of his fallen nation and watching the world move on while he remains untouched by time, the ghost of a past that can never be returned to. Dainsleif isn’t a hero, he’s tired. All that’s left of him are fading memories of a time gone by and moments with you that he clings to like a lifeline. What has this world ever done for him except cause him pain and needless grief? What has it done to deserve his sacrifice? Nothing. And so he rests, hand in hand with you on withering grass and waits for the world to end. At least, this time, he won’t be alone in watching the heavens descend.
SCARAMOUCHE laughs, and laughs, and laughs until he’s sure even the gods that reside in Celestia has heard the scorn and mockery in his voice. It is so laughably easy to choose you and denounce the world. Let it be turned to ash and dust, let his body dance on top of a desolate world, let him pull you in an embrace and delight in the fact that no sun and no light (for none of these exist anymore) would ever outmatch the brightness in your eyes, the smile on your face, the tinkling sound of your laughter amidst the remains of a world that once threatened to snuff your life like a candle left in the dark. He is like a flame and you, the spark. There’s a tsunami gathering on the horizon, threatening to drown everything in its wake, but instead of preventing it, he revels in the ruin it will bring. It is either your death alone or yours and everyone else, and if you have to die either way, then he will die with you and drag the rest of the world along in his self-appointed destruction. You taught him what it felt to no longer be alone, so he will make sure you’re never lonely, even in death.
EI feels weightless, like a leaf adrift in the wind. It feels like she is back to that moment five hundred (a thousand) years ago, a dilemma, a decision, a choice—follow Makoto to Khaenri’ah, or defend her people from the monsters ravaging the lands? There was uncertainty there, a small seedling of hope that she would arrive not far from Makoto and see her sister alive and waiting, and so she had made the decision to stay—but this? Faced with an ultimatum, the world or your death, Ei finds that the decision is much more difficult, much more devastating but no less heartbreaking. Had it been before, in her lonesome at the Plane of Euthymia, the choice would have been easy, barely a thought in her mind, but everything has changed and Ei wants, in a way she has never wanted before, to be with you. You with your smiles and your laughs and the warmth you induce in her frigid heart—and she finds that she cannot make a choice… so you do it for her. For the greater good.
LUMINE doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even flinch before she turns her back to the world and takes your hand. What good is the world if you’re not there in it? She won’t just stand by and watch as everything she holds dear is destroyed in front of her—not anymore. There is you, there is her, and there is the world burning, and Lumine finds that she can hardly care. Her heart has no place for faceless people, no love left for a world that has done nothing but spurn and trample on everything she had offered. Let it burn if it means having one more second, one more minute, one more lifetime with you. A choice isn’t truly a choice if the other option was never considered, and she will never consider a world without you. There are millions, billions, countless other worlds out there she could take you to. Damn this place, damn the heavens, and damn the consequences. Her brother would understand, he always has, and when Lumine meets him again in a new world, she’ll make sure to introduce you to him.
VENTI wants, like Icarus yearning for the Sun, but Venti is Venti, and Barbatos is Barbatos. Right now, he cannot afford to be that carefree bard who spun tales of your lovely hair and lovelier still lips (cannot be Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell). Venti wants—but Barbatos knows the best option, the best choice, the least devastating one but the most heart-wrenching one. The situation is funny, laughable, hilarious, really, the kind that makes his stomach ache and brings tears to his eyes that drip down his cheeks and onto the ground and—oh, he’s crying. He’s crying and holding you close and apologizing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, doesn’t deserve the hand carding through his hair and the soft press of your lips on his forehead as you murmur, don’t cry, it’s alright, you’re doing the best you can. But the best means not doing this at all, the best means not having to make a choice at all, the best means not having to say goodbye. It’s okay, you tell him, I forgive you. But he never forgives himself.
XIAO thinks there must be another way, there has to be another way. He won’t accept this, won’t allow himself to choose between losing you or losing everything, because he knows, deep down, that the choice has already been made and it is not the one he wants. But he knows better than most that doing what he wants isn’t always what is needed, that certain sacrifices must be made despite his unwillingness, despite his entire body protesting against it. Rex Lapis once told him that being a god means making difficult decisions. If this is what it means to be a god, then he will accept a life of service, a life of war and fighting and breathing like every second is his last—because pain and suffering are infinitely better than having to wake everyday without your voice by his ear, giggling about how you finally caught him asleep. A world without your light, without your presence, without you is a desolate one. There must be another way, another sacrifice to be made that doesn’t involve you. Just—anything, anyone but you. Even if it has to be him.
7K notes · View notes
moonhoures · 6 months
Text
Beautiful
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🕷️ kinktober — day 24: praise kink🕸️
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pairing: jaehyun (nct) + reader (g/n *)
genre: non-idol!au, smut, fluff
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, praise, dry humping, unprotected sex, penetration, sloppy making out, couch sex, creampie, (* i did mark this as a gender neutral fic but the reader is described as wearing a dress so yeah just wanted to include that! *)
word count: ~1k
synopsis: your bf is upset that no one at the costume party you went to recognized your cosumtes 💔
posted: october 28, 2023
kinktober masterlist
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“Baby, don’t be like that.”
Your boyfriend shook his head, trudging into your house with heavy, sad steps before plopping onto the couch. You held back a chuckle at his overdramatic pout and crossed arms. He was currently upset because you two had gone to a Halloween party, dressed up as the 1996 version of Romeo and Juliet from the Baz Luhrmann movie. Jaehyun was the one who had came up with the idea, and he was really excited when your costumes came out fairly accurate to the film. However, he was devastated all throughout the night when partygoer after partygoer failed to pinpoint the characters you were portraying.
“Our costumes were dumb,” he sulked, picking up the TV remote in hopes of distracting himself with whatever show was on.
“They were not dumb,” you assured him, “They’re cute! And it’s not like no one knew who we were. Johnny and Mark knew!”
“I told Mark what costumers we were doing, and Johnny was the one who went shopping with me,” he retorted, the furrow in his brow only deepening as he continued to be upset. “Everyone thought I was a tourist.”
“Well, I think our costumes were amazing. It’s not our fault nobody in the room has good taste in movies like you,” you tried to make him feel better, and as the down-turned front of his eyebrow lifted, you thought it might be working, “Honestly, I’d rather have a great costume that no one recognizes than be the hundredth Harley Quinn and Joker couple.”
He laughed softly at that, “They did have a lot of those. That movie came out years ago.”
“And how many Romeo and Juliets were there?”
“None,” he replied, a satisfied smile on his lips. He looked up at you, and he reached his hand out for yours, holding it, “Thanks, ________.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Jae. Besides, I think you look really hot in this outfit,” you confessed, your other hand reaching up to the collar of his Hawaiian print shirt. Your fingers fiddled with the top button, and neither of you seemed fazed when it just so happened to pop open.
“Yeah?” he asked, eyes now trained on the plump of your lips, the remnants of your lip gloss still making them shiny.
“Yeah.”
“You look gorgeous too. I like this little halo,” he further proved his point by nudging the halo headband above your head with his finger, making it wobble. You giggled along with him, and then his hand was on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss.
The kiss turned hot and heavy in moments; suddenly you were straddling his lap. His hands found purchase on your ass and thighs, fingers gripping onto you and sliding the already short hem of your dress up. Low groans of gratification and wanton whines were muffled through your tongues and lips. Your hips shifted rhythmically over your boyfriend’s, emitting deep, guttural moans from his throat.
“Fuck yes, just like that,” Jaehyun spoke through gritted teeth when you grinded down on him and trailed open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Usually he would warn you about making hickeys, but right now he couldn’t find it in himself to care about that.
After a little more grinding and passionate, messy kissing, Jaehyun managed to get both of your underwear off and push his jeans down to the floor. You were going to straddle him again, but he maneuvered you so that you were lying on the couch. You let out a small whine about your halo bending before tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor. He hovered above you, pushing your leg up so that he could fit better between your thighs.
You sucked in a quick breath as he thrusted slowly into you for the first time, while he simultaneously let out a sigh that resembled a curse word you couldn’t quite make out. He had his head buried in your neck, hot breath making your collarbone warm.
“I’ll never get over how good you feel,” he said, “Every single time . . . is better than the last.”
You moaned, your hands wandering under the loose-fitting Hawaiian shirt he wore. It was hanging on by only a few buttons now, so you made quick work of unfastening them and tugging the shirt off of him completely while his thrusts never faltered, “Jae.”
“I know” when he didn’t get a response he said, “You keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna cum. You want that?”
You couldn’t think of any words in the moment, too overwhelmed with your looming orgasm, so you simply nodded. He rested his forehead against yours, and as if on cue, you clenched down on his throbbing cock.
“Shit, ________,” he cursed, eyes screwing shut. His thrusts became deeper and a little faster; he moved with purpose, “You feel so good. Smell so good. Look so good. Fuck, you look beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”
“Jae,” you finally broke your silence, “Please.”
Finally, he shut up and focused on what he was doing. He drove his hips into yours with ardor. He littered kisses over your face, ending with your mouth where he drew you into another sloppy kiss. It was sloppy in the sense that it was full of tongues and teeth, but also because your mouth was parted for loud whimpers.
Jaehyun’s movements stuttered, and his grip on the couch tightened beside you, “Holy fu- I’m cumming.”
“I’m cumming,” he repeated, his words coming out broken up and whiney.
Spurts of his cum filled you up. Your leg hiked higher up on his hip. Your hands grasped onto his back, fingernails clawing at him as you felt your orgasm about to crash down on you.
“That’s it, fucking cum for me. Come on, baby,” even in the aftershocks of his own release, he urged you to chase your own, “You look so pretty when you cum, baby. Do it.”
So you did. You came with an exclamation of your boyfriend’s name as the familiar, orgasmic sense of euphoria settled over you.
“God, you look . . . so. Fucking. Beautiful.”
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— taglist #1
@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world
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thedevilssinner · 7 months
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I wanna share something because I don't want to suffer alone with my thoughts 😅
It's one of the scenarios where Tav knew Astarion before he was turned, but I've never read anything where it played out like this.
I apologize if something is wrong, English is not my native language.
Imagine that Tav is an elf and Astarion's lover before he was turned.
They're devastated when they finds out that Astarion has been killed. Mourning his death for a very long time and even moving away from Baldur's gate because everything reminds them too much of Astarion.
They know that all their happiness and love are gone. No one can fill the void that Astarion's death has brought them.
And now, two hundred years later, they stand on the beach, the sun beating down on their head, the burning Nautiloid at their back and before them... Astarion?
Only it's all wrong, his eyes are red and he's pale... paler than he's ever been.
Anger rises up in Tav. How dare some shapeshifter even take on Astarion's form after their beloved has been dead for 200 years?
And do a bad job at it!
Before the pale creature could even call for help again, Tav lunged at him with an angry cry, surprising the imitation and truckling it to the ground, dagger pressed to it's throat while they straddled his body. "How dare you?! How dare you to take his form?! Show me who you really are... now!" They command, surprising even themselves with their actions. But they couldn't stop... not when someone is using Astarion's face for gods knows what.
"Darling, there seems to have been a little misunderstanding. I don't know what you're talking about, and I'd appreciate it if you'd remove the dagger from my neck." The shapeshifter replies, his voice smooth and flirtatious and so unmistakably Astarion's that it hurts, and Tav presses the dagger a little harder against his neck.
"Shut up, shapeshifter!" Tav shouts at him, gaze anchored on that so familiar yet different face. "Where did you even get his face?! His voice?!" They ask angrily, the hand holding the dagger starting to shake. "You have no rights to pretend you're Astarion when he's... when he's gone. And to do it badly!" They continue, still angry but deep seated sadness linger behind.
The shapeshifter's eyes widen, opening his mouth as if he wants to say something, Tav noticing the fangs there and even worse idea that him being a shapeshifter, starts to creep into their mind.
"Tav?" Fake Astarion finally speaks, saying their name as if he were saying it for the first time in a long time, tasting it on his lips. The previous flirting gone. Instead he looked confused and as if just now he remembered something that was hidden in his mind. "You are them, aren't you? Gods, how could I forget... so beautiful." His red eyes glide along Tav's face, his voice nothing than a whisper. He's clearly lost in his head and Tav swallows thickly, realisation slowly grasping their mind but they fight against it.
"No, stop! Stop it! You can't be him. You can't... he's dead and your eyes are wrong. You're wrong." Tav says, their body starting to shake all over, threatening to cut him by mistake with the dagger still against his neck.
But now it's easy for 'the shapeshifter' to take Tav's wrist and move their hand away from his neck, easily wrenching the dagger from their fingers and tossing it aside. His lips stretch into a sad smile.
"That's what vampirism do to you, my love." Astarion says ever so softly, the deepest pain and sadness etched in his voice and Tav knows, feels it in their soul, that he is telling the truth.
So that's how Tav meets Astarion again, this encounter more painful and bittersweet than anything else.
They stay on the beach for a little while, Tav crying their heart out and Astarion trying to hold back his own tears. Both of them not expecting something like this to happen.
(Sorry if Astarion seems ooc.)
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arminsumi · 7 months
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when is daddy coming home ?
g. satoru ⋅ fem wife reader
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note: WOW i'm so sorry for writing this anyways tagging @satoruhour for no reason except i'm evil 👍 ik we need fluff comfort rn but i had to get out at least one devastating post. anyways. enjoy the suffering!!
warnings — heavy pure angst prepare to suffer and cry more than you already are, implied death, chapter 236 spoilers
playme ♪ oh god it's you i watch tv with / when i wake up i see you with me... as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you
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scurrying around the kitchen, there's no free time when you've got a little mouth to feed. and you smile when you see your cute little girl devouring the bowl of steaming food. it's satoru's favorite, he asked you to make it today especially and you don't know why.
an hour goes by. you observe your child drawing a scribbly heart.
" what are you drawing ? " you ask, and she replies with " something for daddy. "
" it looks beautiful. who's that ? "
" that's you. and that's daddy. and that's me. "
" are we inside a heart ? "
" yup ! we're inside daddy's heart, because it has the most space. "
your heart feels a peculiar pang, and you look out the window. how strange, you felt like your whole world caved in for that split second.
" mommy, when is daddy coming home ? " your little girl asks innocently.
" soon, angel. "
you ring his number.
gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !
you remember the day he made this prerecorded messgae. his ow at the end is a reaction to your little girl biting him when she was teething, that was years and years ago now.
the little bell on her bracelet sounds. it's the bracelet that you and gojo wove together in high school; your little one had found it in your memory box and loved it so much that she asked if she could have it as her birthday gift.
that bell chimes as she moves her wrist to color in satoru's eyes with the prettiest blue crayon. and for some reason, it sounds louder than ever; you stare at it. why are tears coming forth?
the tv is playing. the birds are chirping. the world keeps spinning. but your world? it feels like it broke apart. and why? what was this feeling? you felt like... like something devastating has just happened.
you try satoru's phone again, wandering aimlessly into the kitchen. it feels eerily quiet and joyless.
gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !
you try it again.
gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now —
you try it again.
gojo satoru ~
gojo satoru ~
gojo satoru ~
he was mimicking the way you always said his name in high school.
and you start breaking down crying, trying and trying repeatedly as if it would change anything. you don't need someone to knock on your door to tell you he's gone, because you can feel it; his spirit isn't in this world anymore. you and him were completely connected, a string between the two of you that linked your hearts and subconscious no matter the distance between them.
when you look up at the sky, there's an endless blue. but all you really think of when you see that sky is his eyes. when you first met, that was one of the first things you told him.
" your eyes put the skies to shame. "
and he replied with something so cheesy that for some reason made you fall in love with him right there.
" aw. well, you put the angels to shame. "
the food goes cold. in his last moment, when he detached from the world, he was thinking about returning home to you. that's why he had asked you to make his favorite, after all. he thought it would be nice to enjoy such a simple thing after saving the world.
it's funny, even if he would have saved the world, he wouldn't have been able to come home to boast about it to you; because you never knew that side of him.
you never knew he was gojo satoru.
you just knew he was your gojo satoru, your doting husband.
when those eyes stared up at the blue sky for the last time, he thought;
at least i got to say i love you to you this morning, and give you that big kiss. treasure it baby, there will be no more now.
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rest well honoured one.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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fangirl-dot-com · 24 days
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🐍 Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
I'm sorry to the ones I couldn't tag. If you do want notifications for when I post, there's always that option as well!
Logan had a new phone. And for the first time in a while, it felt nice to just be disconnected from the world for a bit. The people who truly mattered had his phone number. His Instagram had been wiped, along with every other social media. The American had gone dark. 
And apparently you had done the same thing. 
His parents and brother knew where he would be, just in case for emergencies. However, he asked them to not text much. He needed time away, well, away from the current grid. It hurt him, seeing how supportive everyone was with Theo. No one had ever congratulated him when he first got signed. Hell, even Oscar hadn’t known right away, claiming he had forgotten. 
Of course, he had given you his new number because you’d be the only person he previously knew that he’d still be in contact with. You also gave Logan you’re new number, having similar ideas to your friend. 
Well, he had given George his new number. The Briton had texted his old number in a panic-like manner when Logan deactivated everything. Under a temporary contract, Logan wasn’t legally allowed to tell George anything except that he was safe and needed time away. 
The brunet was not happy with that, but he let Logan know that if he needed anything, he would come running. A bit of happiness let itself seep into Logan’s heart, thankful for the Mercedes driver’s friendship. 
When he had read the email after the social media posts went up, his mind blanked. 
What did Andretti want with him? A washed-out jobless nobody. He believes they should have been looking at someone like Carlos or even Ollie, who was making good times in F2 car. It had to be anyone but him. 
So why was it him? 
He had been about to call you when you had first facetimed him on his laptop. He couldn’t even get words about before you started screeching. Logan chuckled as you went on a rant, as this could be their big break. His silence had given you a look into how he was truly feeling. 
Your voice had quieted down on the device. 
“You’re going to take the offer right?” 
Logan winced at your tone, which gave you the information you needed. You rolled your eyes as you sat on your bed. 
“Logan, we were just dropped by two teams that didn’t even want us. They pushed us away like we were nothing. And now, there’s a team with top potential that truly wants us, and you don’t want to take the opportunity?” 
The American boy sighed. You had a point. 
“I’m just scared that I’m going to get there, and then make a fool out of myself. Then Michael is going to see how truly bad of a driver I am,” he hugged out. 
You could hear the fear in his voice, and it devastated you. Where did your confident and smiley boy go? Williams would pay for it, one way or another. 
You were hesitant to say something. 
“Logan, even if our times aren’t what we’re wanting at first, Michael said that we will get better. He’s sent my manager some data and it looks like we are scarily similar with our driving styles. Logan, the car is going to be made for us. Michael made sure that I knew that we’d have a chance, because I’m not driving if you’re not. Together or nothing, we come as a package.” 
Logan sat up quickly off his bed. He glared at you through his laptop.
“You did not just quote Charles Leclerc to me.” 
“And what if I did?”  
“No, you can’t give this offer up if I don’t drive.” 
You glared back at him, although you had a smile. 
“It’s either both of us, or none of us. I’m tired of never seeing you, and you need a friend you can count on. I’m sorry to say but Oscar has done a very shit job of being your friend. I’d say that George is a better friend than him.” 
Logan sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that.” 
Your smile dropped a bit. 
“Logan, he was supposed to be your friend and then he dropped you. Everyone had dropped you so many times and you’ve been the one to pick yourself back up. But now, you’ve been dropped a final time, yet someone wants to be the first to help you back up, to clean your wounds, and to heal you. And now you don’t even want that?” 
You had a point. 
Like always. 
“Your words never seem to fail me woman.” 
“That’s because men are the inferior being.” 
Logan snorted. 
“Will I see you in Milan next week?” you asked with hopeful eyes. Logan could see the glimmer that shined in them. He didn’t want to be the person to damped that. 
“I will see you in Milan.” 
The first thing that popped into Logan’s mind when he got to the base was “Holy Shit.” 
The building was massive as he walked through the giant doors. He really thought that this was a movie set with how grand it was. Surely this couldn’t it? Maybe he had the wrong address. 
“Mr. Sargeant?” 
Or maybe he did. His body turned to the lady standing near the front desk. He showed a smile that was definitely a tad too wide and showed too many teeth. Thankfully the lady didn’t show any malice as she sweetly grinned at the blond. 
“Yes ma’am. That’s me.” 
Always the good southern-hospitality manners with him. 
“I’m glad you could make it. If you’d follow me, Michael is waiting in his office for you.” 
Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he finally knew that he didn’t have to circumnavigate the entirety of the building. 
The air was fresh as he walked behind the lady, who he now knew as Marissa Andretti, Michael’s sister and Head of Directors. Her own American accent was like a comforting blanket to Logan. Gosh, did he miss hearing a familiar voice to his own during 2023. 
The one voice he couldn’t wait to hear was your own. He knew he’d be safe once he heard the lisps of a Southern draw when you talked. The slurred vowels and the biting consonants would be music to his ears. 
“How have you liked the simulator and the data so far?” Marissa asked as she led Logan down yet another hallway. How big was this building and were they leading him to his death? 
Yet, despite his concerns, Logan was very happy with the results. 
“The car is already so fast. It’s like it’s just an extension of me instead of working against me. It feels so right.” 
Technically, Logan had been on the first plane to Milan to start testing, as his own anxiety wouldn’t let him wait until the week was up. You had your own simulator back in the States, so you did your testing there. Logan had been back in London when the email came, and his set up was not going to function with the high tech that Andretti needed. 
Marissa smiled over her shoulder. “Good, that is exactly what we are wanting to hear.” 
Finally, she stopped in front of a door that had a giant-ass A on the front. Logan wanted to laugh at the cinematics. Surely, this was a movie and he was going to be the main character. Marissa pushed a button and the door slowly swung open. 
Logan’s smile grew once he saw you in one of the very plush seats in front of the desk. You immediately stood up and jumped into his arms. He breathed deeply and all weight slowly melted from his body. It had been so long since he had gotten to hug you, hold you, feel you. 
When you pulled away, you had a blinding smile on your face. 
“Glad to see you here Logs.” 
His nose scrunched at the old nickname. 
“I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were 12, Y/n.” 
You huffed. 
“Fine, no nickname for you.” 
“I take it back. I ban you from calling me Logan.” 
“Isn’t that your name?” 
“No?” 
“Logs!” 
“Ah there it is!” 
A cough signaled to Logan that they weren’t actually alone. He sheepishly turned around to face the man who, hopefully after this meeting, would be his boss for a couple of years. Logan turned his full body towards the desk and stepped with his hand outstretched. 
Michael had a knowing smile as he shook Logan’s hand. 
“I am so sorry sir, I didn’t even realize that you were already here, and I haven’t seen her in a while, and it’s so good to just here the accents because the grid is entirely too European and Asian, sometimes I couldn’t even understand them, and…” 
Michael put his hands on Logan’s shoulders. 
“It’s just fine kid. I totally get you.” 
Logan visibly relaxed under Michael’s hands. 
“Now, why don’t you sit down and we can start talking contracts.” 
Logan lit up at the word. 
“Contracts?”
You gave him a smirk. 
“Yes Logs, contracts.” 
Logan felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But this time, it was with excitement and not dread. His butt quickly found the seat next to yours. Marissa left the room with promises of coming back with celebratory drinks. 
Michael pulled out two small stacks of paper before he started speaking. 
“So, I’ve talked with both of your managers and we’ve come up with a contract. You two can look over it as I read the big details. The finer print is stuff that you both have already previously gone over, but you are still encouraged to look over it one final time.”
You and Logan had the same exact papers. 
In the initial emailing process, the two of you had voiced that you were a packaged deal. Logan was surprised to see that Michael had said that he wouldn’t want it any other way and was glad to possibly not have to deal with drivers hating each other. Logan thought anything would be better than Brocedes 2016. 
You looked down at the words as Michael read them out loud. 
“Ok, so in the contract, the two of you will be signed until 2027. There is an exit clause in section C, but we are not allowed to terminate prior to 2027. The two of you will be granted ambassadorship with whatever sponsors we’ve received. The sponsorships are in section E and it gives a rundown of each one and what they will be contributing to the team. 
“Per secrecy of wanting to keep the identities secret until we reach the grid for testing, the two of you will go under pseudonyms.” 
You raised an eyebrow. 
“Like a call sign?” 
Marissa flashed a wicked grin. 
“Exactly like a call sign.” 
You continued, “Do we get to come up with them?” 
Michael clasped his hands. “So we thought that Y/n could go by Phoenix and then Logan would go Venus.” 
Your eyes widened as you took in the name. Wasn’t too bad, you thought. 
Logan let out a sigh of relief. “At least it’s not like Eagle or something. That would be super obvious.” 
The boss-man chuckled before he looked back down at the contract. 
“Since the two of you did not specify a salary, we took the liberty to come up with one ourselves. But please feel free to mention what you’d like and we can always raise it. We also liked to put in that for every point scored, the two of you get a bonus as a little incentive. The salary will not be dropped no matter if points are scored or not. Think of it as a baseline.” 
Michael chuckled as he watched yours and Logan’s eyes drastically widen at the sight of the eight digits before the decimal. Logan gulped at the sight. 
“Michael, I think you added too many zeros.” 
“I think I didn’t add enough.” 
Logan couldn’t respond. 
You looked up from the paper to Michael. “I think it’s high enough.” 
The goateed-man smiled back at you and continued. 
“I’ve seen the skills parts on your resumes and thankfully the two of you do not need to learn Italian from scratch. I don’t even know when the two of you had time to learn it, but thankfully it is not required in meetings or in the garage.” 
Logan smirked as he looked at the words. 
“What’s the fun in that? We can have secret conversations with ourselves.” 
You tapped his shoulder. 
“Except Ferrari will know and maybe Lewis.” 
“I’ll have my Duolingo account at the ready.” 
Michael watched as the two of you pored over the papers and bickered like an old married couple. He and Marissa already had a bet going to see when the two of you would get together. But, you didn’t need to know that.
“I digress. You can speak in Italian if you want to. The next couple of sections are just PR related. The two of you wanted to bring you own teams in, which is fine. I’ve sent emails and meeting times to each of them and have been replied to. All is in motion. Logan, you mentioned something to me once about your personal trainer leaving?” 
A sigh left his lips at the mention of Benny. He really didn’t want anyone else. He slowly nodded. 
“He had to leave to be with his family. Williams wasn’t the most accommodating and he was told that he had to be at every race. Normally I didn’t even need him until race day. He’d miss so much time with his family because of traveling and things like that.” 
“Well, I think we have you covered.” 
Logan looked back down at the paper. A small gasp left his lips. 
Ben Jacobs was written in black ink under “Personal Trainer.” 
“How?” 
Michael smiled. 
“It took some convincing, but he said he’d come back for you. Of course, Ben will be highly compensated to return after he said he wouldn’t. His family will also be accommodated for any race that they’d like to attend and Ben can show up however late he needs. His leave will also be paid time as well.” 
Logan could kiss the man if he could. Tears pooled in his eyes and he could only manage a small thank you. Your hand rested on his shoulder in comfort. He just couldn’t wait to see him again. 
“Looks like that is everything. Are you two ready to sign?” 
Yours and Logan’s heads nodded eagerly as pens were uncapped. There was light scratching for a few moments as you filled out the needed information on the multiple sheets of paper. Once everything was completed, you let out a sigh of relief. You and Logan could finally do this. 
Marissa showed up at the right moments with a few different beverages. You took one of the iced americanos, claiming that Italian espresso was, in fact, the best kind. Logan surprised you as he took a mimosa. 
He side-eyed you. 
“It’s freshly squeezed orange juice and you cannot go wrong with it. It’s a classic.”
You held you drink up and your other hand in mock surrender. 
Michael took a black coffee and sipped it. 
“Now, onto the fun stuff.” 
Your eyebrows pinched. “Fun stuff?” 
Michael smirked before pulling up a projector that was attached to his laptop. He started to click through the slides. 
“First, the car.” 
On the slide was a sleek yellow and black livery. The black really highlighted the tamer yellow. 
Michael pointed at it. 
“This is our 2024 livery. We designed it awhile back, but it’s finally going to be used.” 
You let out a whistle as a video played the engine noise. To you, it sounded fast. You had been able to do a few laps with an actual car to get the feel of it since IndyCar were so much different. Michael claimed though that you were a natural in the car, being able to command it to what you needed it to do. Logan was quite the same. 
The next slide showed multiple models of Lamborghinis. With it came a smirk from the sister and brother pair. 
Logan looked at them. 
“I don’t know whether to be excited about the smirks or nervous.” 
Marissa was the one to pull up something on her personal iPad. She showed the official Lamborghini website. 
“Because the two of you will now technically ambassadors for Lambo as well, you two need to pick out what models the two of you would like to own. For now, we can start with one, but Tonino wanted his drivers to start a small collection.” 
You made her pause. 
“Tonino, as in, Tonino Lamborghini?” 
Marissa sent a gentle smile to calm you down. 
“Yes. Mr. Tonino will be at quite a few races to watch. He has mentioned wanting to see Ferrari fail, but our data is saying that although we look promising, there’s not guarantee.” 
Logan exhaled sharply. 
“No pressure right?” 
Michael leaned forward over the desk. 
“Listen to me Logan. You have been with a team that has now destroyed every bit of self-confidence. Mr. Tonino is actually the one who put your name on my radar. If you’re good enough for him, you need to believe that you’re good enough for everyone else.” 
Logan was taken back. Mr. Tonino was the one to bring him up? He felt honored in a good way. A nod of his head let Michael and Marissa know that they could continue. Logan turned your way, only to find you already smiling at him. He hoped that he could always be on the receiving end of that smile. 
Marissa continued where she left off. 
“Just look over the models and customize it however you’d like. We’ll get it sent to the factory to be made in time for the first race in Bahrain. These cars will be shipped along with our supplies so you can always have them.” 
You smirked. “I’ve always wanted a black Lamborghini Aventador.” 
Logan turned to Marissa. “I’d love a black Lamborghini Huracan.” 
A smile grew on your face. “Aw, Logan. We’ll get matching Lambos.” 
Logan thought that if you had been an emoji, you’d be the one with the big teary eyes and a pout. Marissa looked pleased at the requests for the different models. 
You raised your hand. “Do we need to start looking for places to stay here in Milan?” 
Michael lifted his eyebrows. 
“You don’t actually. Between races, the two of you are more than welcome to either go home or adventure somewhere. We will let you know when it is crucial to come back here to do some testing. Housing is provided when you need to be here. There are multiple estates that can be used on bought property.” 
You and Logan definitely liked the sound of that. Maybe you could stay in close villas or something. Or maybe in the same place as you tended to get lonely. That’s what being pushed out of everything does to someone in a year. You can’t remember the last time that you were invited to do something with the team, always retreating to your small hotel room after a race. You feel as though Logan might feel the same. 
Michael moved to the next slide, showing the race suits. 
“These are the suits for the season. Black or white fireproofs will go well with them. Helmets are up to the two of you. You will need on standard for some races and then you can choose what races you want fun ones to be. Miami, Austin, Las Vegas, and Imola are going to be considered our home races.” 
“What about Monza?” Logan questioned. 
Michael had a glint in his eyes. 
“That will forever belong to the Tifosi I’m afraid.” 
You decided to pipe up. 
“Or Charles Leclerc. I feel like wherever he goes, the Tifosi goes with him. You make him trade teams, the Italians will follow him.” 
Logan shot you a teasing look. 
“You always have to bring him up in one way or another.” 
You shrugged. 
“He’s a good driver. Let’s not bring up that you’re such a fanboy for Max Verstappen of all people.” 
Logan’s torso shifted. 
“It’s not every day that one beats Sir Lewis Hamilton and take away his 8th championship!” 
Laughs erupted from Michael and Marissa, making you and Logan pause. You cleared your throat. 
“Sorry, please continue.” 
Michael went a bit further with the slides, going over compatible data to the car. He went over sponsors and things like that before he finally leaned back into his chair. 
“Are we able to drive the cars today?” 
Much like you were, Logan was itching to be back behind the wheel. And hopefully, the wheel belonged to a reliable car. 
Michael stood from where he sat, making you and Logan also rise to your feet. 
“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he said, making his way to the door. When the two of you didn’t follow, he turned back around. 
“Are you ready for it?” 
lamborghini_racing has posted
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Lamborghini_racing Are you ready for it?
liked by y/n.nation, logang2, box_box_express, and 4,205,095 others
l4mbo.child a hello or how are you doing WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE
f1_fan I fear they have gagged the entire grid with this
ferrariforza damn, I thought we had the best livery - sorry kings 👑
lambo_drivers all I'm asking is who is going to be driving this beast?
lo-girlies do I even utter his name in fear that it might not happen?
y/nfan or even utter her name?
thepaddock_person who 🤨
childofF1 I'll say it - LOGAN AND Y/N FOR LAMBO 2024
box_box_express the paint, the yellow, the black, the lighting, THE EVERYTHING
taylorswiftxf1 I see the admin is a Taylor fan??
phoenix95 has posted
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phoenix95 baby let the games begin
liked by venus2, Lamborghini_racing, y/n.nation, dior, and 2,195,086 others
4theF1_girlies EXCUSE MEEEEEEE
driver95 ayo - we got the Lightning McQueen number with a queen
lambo_duo oh gosh I hope I live to see the day that they reveal their drivers
venus2 looking snazzy 😎
phoenix95 no one ever says that anymore
venus2 🥺
phoenix95 fine...thank you
venus2 🥰
venusxphoenix WHOEVER THEY ARE - THEY HAVE MY HEART
rising_phoenix95 immediate fan
lambo_child the Aventador is such a slay 💅
lambof1 I wonder if they have like matching cars with their contracts
venus2 has posted
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venus2 let the games begin now
liked by phoenix95, marissa_andretti, Lamborghini_racing, and 4,205,850 others
lambof1 I THINK I CALLED IT?? THE MATCHING BLACK CARS
pitstop_nightmare I'M SORRY FERRARI BUT THIS IS TOO SEXY
lamborghinivsferrari THE HURACAN 🥵😱
c16_leclerc I'm guessing they went to Charles's school of serving cunt
hamilton44lewis and graduated with a degree in slay
phoenix95 that's sexy baby
venus2 thanks 😚
phoenix95 ...I was talking about the car?
venus2 sure...sure you were 😈
box_box_express I feel like I have some sleuthing to do - hold please
logansarg2 I miss Logan so much - it's heartbreaking to see all of his accounts go dark, I guess I'll have to stan this dude instead
y/n.nation I miss our girl so much
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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literaila · 17 days
Note
megumi's demon dogs cuddling with reader and satoru gets jealous 🤭
“you’re just doing this on purpose.”
“leave us alone, satoru. or better yet, go get us a snack. i think there’s some jerky in the pantry.”
satoru sighs and walks to the kitchen counter, where megumi is attempting to write a report. “megumi,” satoru says, his voice trying to be rough. “release them.”
megumi doesn’t even look at him. “why? they’re playing.”
“they’re stealing my wife.”
“we’re not married!” you call, and resume cooing at the dog on your lap.
“megumi, im lost without her. i might die. don’t you want to help me?”
“not really.”
satoru scoffs, leaning against the counter, on top of megumi’s papers. “i’m the reason you have them, you know.”
“i don’t use your shadows for summoning,” megumi retorts, trying to push him off.
“why not? they’re probably better than everyone else’s.”
“i don’t trust you.”
satoru remains where he is, pouting.
“satoru,” you call, from the couch, “let megumi do his homework.”
“yeah, satoru,” megumi says, pulling his hair.
“it’s papa to you.”
megumi mimes throwing up. then he pinches satoru’s ear, which is evil and who knows who taught him that? (you did).
“go away, gojo.”
“they’re probably tired,” satoru whispers. “you should give them a break.”
“don’t!” you say, laughing when one of them licks your face.
satoru watches, a devastating frown on his face.
“you’re so sweet,” you’re telling them, in a voice satoru doesn’t think he’s ever heard you use. “how’d you get so sweet?”
if satoru was a dog, his tail would probably wag at just the sound of your voice too.
he’s never wanted to hurt an animal more.
“hey,” megumi pokes satoru’s cheek. “can you move?”
“not until you give me my wife back.”
“she’s just petting them.”
“she’s neglecting me.”
“if you grow some fur, i’ll pet you too,” you tell satoru, still not paying any attention to him.
“what about my beautiful skin?”
“meh. overrated.”
“just say you hate me.”
you roll your eyes but you still haven’t looked at satoru, or smiled at him, or told him that you love him today.
how is he supposed to go on like this? the kids were trouble enough. now he has to fight two dogs?
“megumi, what if i give you—“
“i told you to stop bribing the children,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “i already told him, yes i did,” you say to the dogs, voice full of fake sympathy.
“i don’t want your money anyway.”
“how about my love and affection?”
megumi raises an eyebrow, his face far too amused for satoru’s liking.
“tsumiki would never treat me like this.”
“you can go pick her up,” you tell him. “just say that you missed her. she’ll probably be fine with you dragging her away from her friends because you’re jealous and lonely. most teenagers wouldn’t mind that.”
megumi laughs.
“i don’t deserve this.” satoru stands up, huffing at both of you, and walking down the hall towards his room. “i’m gonna find a home where im appreciated.”
you coo again. “good luck! ask them to send us some snacks.”
satoru groans, leaning against the wall.
“can we really send him away?” megumi asks you as soon as he thinks satoru is gone.
“mmm,” you pretend to think about it. “it’d be a hard sell.”
“i can make the posters.”
at that, satoru turns right around, bursting back into the room with a scoff. but before anyone can say anything, he walks over to where you are on the couch and falls on your lap.
“ugh, satoru,” you say, groaning as you adjust to his body weight on yours.
“you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
you roll your eyes, but resume your petting—this time it’s satoru at your will, though. he basically purrs into your touch. “i knew it was too good to be true.”
“should i still make that ad or…”
satoru throws a pillow at him in retaliation and you just shake your head. but it doesn’t seem to matter who you’re petting, as long as there’s someone there.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 29 days
Note
bakugo and reader meeting again after a long time like maybe katsu has been away on a mission and he just misses us so much 🥹
anon this is literally such an adorable request!! This has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time cus i could never rlly figure out what i wanted to do with this, but as soon as i got the inspo i got to it !! im so so sososuuupperr sorry for making you wait so long and if you’re still sticking around, I LUB YOU !! anyways, i tried honoring this lovely sweet request as best i could, if you’re reading, i truly hope you enjoy (and all of you ofc!!) <33
fem reader, jus pure fluffy fluff ! katsuki n reader watch selling sunsets bc my mom does lmfaoo this ones for you momma, kissing, biting (lol will i ever stop), lemme know if i missed sum else !
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katsuki regrets planning this surprise.
it’s been one month. exactly 31 days since he’s last seen you. one month he had to survive off of late night phone calls and good morning messages.
katsuki had slowly but surely started climbing up the ranks as a hero ever since he’d gone independent and this mission was a huge steppingstone to victory.
except it involved him going abroad for a month.
you’d congratulated him when he’d told you. you hugged him hard and offered him your brightest sunshine smile, you’d made him dance around your little living room with you, celebrating his ‘rise to stardom’ as you’d called it and he remembers chuckling about it. you’d even gone out of your way and made his favorite to celebrate. but now katsuki understand you were probably doing that so as not to worry him.
he's known you for a long while and he knows you know he can tell when you’re lying, so he was sure you were happy for him. (you can’t fake anything from him and especially not the way you smile, he’s committed that to memory). and you truly looked happy for him, but he knows youwell enough to know that you were also devastated to find out he was leaving for so long. he’d seen the way your eyes widened and your shoulders dropped. but knowing you, you probably powered through it so as not to make him worry.
so stupid. you’re stupid. and he misses you so much.
despite you being in different time zones you make it work. he made sure to be updated daily and called you every time it was time for you to go to bed to make sure you got some well needed sleep and not staying up late mindlessly scrolling through your feed.
you send him pictures of everything happening throughout your day and you’d hound him about his, asking him if he’d eaten well and if he’d beat up any bad guys. and no matter how minuscule his actions were you’d always praise him. as somewhat childish as he knew it was katsuki still walked with his head up high for the rest of the day. if it was to impress you and make you proud, he’d be on the clock 24/7. but, knowing you, you’d get mad at him for overworking himself.
he misses you so much.
he’s on the plane. making his way back home to you a day before he’d told you he would be, his surprise. you’d been so excited, your squeals ringing through the phone, katsuki just couldn’t wipe the smile of his face and goddamnit he tried.
“ou, i can’t wait ! i missed you sooo much, katsu !” you chirped, he couldn’t wait to hear your voice in real life again instead of through his phone.
“yeah, missed you too sweets” he hums, packing up the last of his stuff.
“you better be ready cus when you get back, m’not gonna let you go for a whole month.” you tease, giggling. katsuki huffs out a laugh, looking down at his luggage ready to go as he’d fully finished packing up while you were on the phone.
“uhuh~?” he muses “better be ready for me when i get back. yer not goin’ anywhere either. no bathroom breaks when we're cuddling.”
“ew,” you snort “what am i supposed to do if i have to pee ?”
“that sounds like a you problem, sweetheart.”
you laugh and laugh and katsuki smiles, he couldn’t wait to be able to hear and see it again. expect not one phone call away, like he’d told you he always would be when you’d accompanied him to the airport all teary eyed, but in real life.
except now he’s starting to regret not just coming home on time.
don’t get him wrong, the sooner he gets to you the better. he’d meant it when he told you he wouldn’t let you go and as somewhat embarrassing as it is to him that he had gotten so clingy, being away from you for so long really did a number on him. distance makes the heart grow fonder his ass, he was more than fond of you when he was laying next to you every night instead of all alone in his hotel bed.
but right now he’s way too antsy. he wants to tell you about how he’ll be home soon to hear you squeal and giggle, but he sucks it up in favor of surprising you.
it’ll be worth it. at least that’s what he tried to convince himself when he finished packing up. and on his way to the airport. and on the plane..
who even thought of this stupid surprise idea anyway ?!
he can’t sit still. he has to stop himself from tapping his foot against the floor and shuffling around in his seat. the guy in front of him keeps reclining his seat back but it doesn’t bother him that much, because all he needs is to remember your smile and remember he’s coming home to you, and he feels his nerves settle. recliner-seat-guy be damned.
it’s pitch black by the time he’s off the plane and finally back home. when he checks his phone he sees it’s 2:09 am and you’re no doubt dead asleep by now, he smiles at his phone screen when he sees you smiling back at him.
his limbs suddenly feel heavier the higher the numbers show on the screen inside the elevator to his floor. his body buzzes with excitement but for some reason he can’t help feeling nervous. katsuki knows it’s stupid because you tell him every day how much you miss him and how excited you are to see him. all he wants right now is to see you.
he fumbles around a bit when he fits his keys into the door to walk into your tiny shared apartment and when he finally walks back inside, katsuki is reminded why he does this. why he’s been gone for exactly 31 days.
he kicks his shoes off quietly and sees yours left right by the door like they always are. like he always wants them to be. he wants to come home to your shoes by the door and to you smiling at him brightly and greeting him, or beckoning him over to the couch because you’ve been waiting all day to watch your favorite show with him. (he’s forbidden you from watching any episode of selling sunsets without him, the last time you did he got cranky at you for a good 2 hours.)
katsuki sneaks over to your room, socked feet padding over to the door quietly cracking it open. he’d managed to convince you to move in with him a few months ago, claiming it’d lower costs and yapping about how you practically lived here anyway. it was barely anything to get used to, it felt natural, like this was everything his life was leading up to. but he wants to give you everything you deserve and this cramped little apartment is definitely not it.
he wants to give you a cosy little house, or a penthouse or even a fucking mansion if that was what you wanted, as long as he could be there with you he didn’t care. he’d do whatever he could to get you everything you dreamed of at the flick of a wrist. and that’s why, as annoying and lonely as it was to be without you for so long, he’d pushed through.
katsuki needs to save people, and he wants to. but everything he does, he does with you in a little corner of his mind.
you’re fast asleep like he’d expected, katsuki huffs out a laugh, brushing at your cheek with his finger. his heart almost explodes when you try to lean into the faint touch and he can’t help it anymore. he sits down by your side and kisses your cheek. once, two times, three times and a little one on your nose. if he wasn’t feeling all mushy he’d be an asshole and bite you, but you look so cute he’ll put that off for now.
your nose scrunches up and your eyebrows furrow at the wet kiss onto your skin, you instinctively go to rub at your face with a whine, katsuki chuckles to himself when you open your eyes and the lack of distance between you both meaning your quite literally face to face with him.
“katsu..?” you mumble sleepily “ ‘m i dreamin’ ?”
katsuki chuckles, eyes soft “glad to know ya dream about me, but nah, this isn't a dream.”
you blink sleepily, and katsuki recognize those bright eyes he so loves gleaming the more you wake up “katsuki !” you squeal, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him straight against your collarbone, since he was practically nose to nose with you before he knocks against your chin but you both don’t care.
katsuki crawls into bed and wraps his arms around you tightly, snickering into your neck and you into his hair. you squeeze and squeeze him so hard he thinks you’ll suffocate him but he couldn’t care less, squeezing you like he’s trying to mold you to him.
you breathe him in and he flips you both over with you giggling uncontrollably. you topple over and land straight into his chest. you lift your head up with stars in your eyes like he’d hung up the moon for you and katsuki smirks back softly. because he would. he’d hang up the moon and the stars and more.
all for you.
“you’re back !” you chirp, kissing all over his face. katsuki feels his cheeks hurt, this is the hardest and longest he’d smiled in a month.
“how’d you figure that one out ?” you roll your eyes at his sarcastic remark, blowing lip bubbles against his cheeks as punishment. he playfully pushes your face away from him and you laugh.
“i thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow..” you quickly reach over to your nightstand to check your phone then throw it back down.
“it is tomorrow.” katsuki quips, already getting back to being a smart ass, you roll your eyes but you can’t wipe off the happy look on your face.
“you know what i mean, asshole” you jokingly narrow your eyes at his smug face and press a finger against his cheek “later tomorrow i mean. was gonna surprise you and you….out-surprised, me” you pout at your ruined plans.
he turns his face so he can sink his teeth into your pointer finger and you quietly squeal in disapproval, he smirks “was gonna, but couldn’t wait anymore. needed to see you.” he pulls you closer to run his nose against your pulse point “felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy if i stayed with those other bastards for a second longer.”
you giggle, placing your hands against his shoulders as he kisses up and down your shoulder and neck haphazardly “ don’t be mean.” you scold.
he lifts his head up to raise a brow at you, hands running up and down your sides “you mean to tell me you wanted me to stay away? didn’t miss me ?” he jokes, squeezing your hips harshly.
“of course i did. missed you so much i felt my heart would tear up sometimes..” you smiles sadly, running your fingers through his blond strands, he frowns "but i'm glad you're back now."
"yeah, and m'not leaving again for a damn long while." he squeezes you so hard he lifts you up in his lap a little bit and a surprised noise leak out of you. he lifts his head up from your chest to smirk at you in challenge "you're gonna have to get used to me and my big mouth all over again."
your heart squeezes, you feel like it'll bursts from happiness and katsuki wonders if he' supposed to feel this happy, if it's okay to be this content with one person. but only for a moment, because he's greedy, so so greedy for you. and he doesn't care if it's wrong because he gets to make you happy, to make you smile and laugh, to have you.
and katsuki does everything for you, so he gives himself to you without a second thought.
you hum, placing your hands against his soft cheeks to press your lips to his "got a month worth of your big mouth i need to catch up on." you whisper before finally closing the distance. you both immediately sigh in relief at the contact, being able to feel each other like this again. you smile into the kiss and katsuki thinks he's never felt more at peace.
after a month, exactly 31 days, katsuki's finally back.
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bonus :
"hey." katsuki ask, you snuggle into his side and hum.
"did you watch any episodes of selling sunsets without me ?"
you stiffen.
"n-noooo..." the sheets shuffle and crinkle when katsuki looks down at you. you shrink into yourself.
"maybe one or two.." you squeak out meekly. immediately he's flipping you over and pouncing on you.
"fuckin' traitor." he growls.
"i'm sorry i couldn't help myself !" you wheeze when he starts tickling your sides, kicking at the sheets "it's been a month !" you screech trying to catch your breath.
"yeah i know that !" he exclaims, ignoring the way you're thrashing around as he mercilessly tickles you.
"i'm soooorryy !!"
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lydiimae · 26 days
Text
Home.
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
18+ MDI
Based on a request you can find here <3
Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother,
A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦
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He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.
Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.
The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.
The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.
A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.
You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.
"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.
You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.
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You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.
It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.
And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.
In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.
Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.
"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.
Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.
You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.
You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.
You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.
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Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.
She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.
"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.
She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.
Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.
You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.
A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.
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He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.
When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.
The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?
Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.
The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.
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The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.
You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.
"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.
He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.
You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.
You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.
You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.
You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.
It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.
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After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.
You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.
He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.
"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.
"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.
"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.
"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.
"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.
He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.
"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.
Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.
He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.
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After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.
You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?
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You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.
Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.
You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.
You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.
"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.
"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.
He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.
He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.
He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.
"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.
He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.
He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.
"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.
He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.
He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.
Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.
Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.
"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.
He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.
You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.
"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.
"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.
You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.
He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.
He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.
You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.
You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.
You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.
The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.
He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.
That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.
After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.
"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.
Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.
You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.
He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.
Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.
461 notes · View notes
sarahscribbles · 2 months
Note
saz i am the FIRMEST of believers that loki’s into cock warming, especially when he comes home from a long mission or gruesome battle literally all he wants is to be nestled inside you for hours 😌
𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟔𝐤
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The endless sky stretching beyond the Allmother’s library is a vibrant swirl of scarlet and amber when you hear the clatter of a dozen hooves in the courtyard below. Over the excited braying of horses you hear the calls of Einherjar for stable hands and body servants, and the book in your lap quickly tumbles to the floor with a thump as you rush towards the window in a flurry of skirts. 
The sudden disturbance in the quiet of the evening can only mean that the campaign is over and the princes are home.
Loki is home.
You reach the window just as he swings a long leg over his horse and drops elegantly to the ground, looking every inch the warrior in leather and metal. The last dying rays of sun catch the small golden band around his finger and the breeze tousles his perfectly styled hair, but he barely appears to notice because his attention is already fully focused on something else. 
You, standing at the library window. 
He found you within five minutes of arriving back home. Always, your husband will find you, as though some invisible string connects his heart to yours. 
The smile that curls across his lips when he catches your eye is both devilish and devastating, as is the wink he offers you as his horse is taken away.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies takes flight in your stomach and your fingers curl tighter around the pillar they rest on. Six weeks he’s been gone - one of the longest campaigns of your marriage - and it’s taking everything in you not to run through the palace and have him right there in the courtyard.
Perhaps more than once. 
His bright eyes linger longingly on you until he disappears beneath the window ledge and into the Palace. From the floor below, you hear the gentle buzz of conversation and revelry as the warriors recount their journey to victory for anyone who will listen. You hear the distinct sound of Thor’s war cry; the hearty cheers of The Warriors Three; the joyous clanging of swords in celebration…
You hear the familiar deep roll of laughter that you would recognise anywhere.
The sound of your husband’s mirth, his uncontained joy, makes you giddy with excitement, the likes of which you haven’t experienced since you first started courting him or the first time you got to taste his kiss. You’ve missed him - missed the warmth of his embraces, the softness of his lips, the easy way he can make you laugh without even trying.
You’ve missed your best friend.
Forgetting all about the book you’ve left lying, pages akimbo, on the floor, you rush from the library on quick, quiet feet to race your husband to your chambers. You know it will be his first port of call, as it always is after any length of time you spend apart, and the thought alone is enough to make you fizzle wildly with anticipation. 
Will he take his time worshiping your body? Will those large, gentle hands spend hours refamiliarising themselves with every dip and curve? Will his lips lavish attention on you until not an inch of you has been left unkissed? 
Or, will he back you against the chamber wall and hoist your skirts around your hips? Will he rip your bodice from your body and roughly have his way with you? Will he make you orgasm again and again until you go limp in his arms? 
Perhaps both if you’re lucky. 
Perhaps this reunion will be similar to the last when neither of you were seen outside your chambers for three days; one day of pleasure for each battle the Asgardians had won, so your husband had promised. 
And delivered on. 
The late evening air tingles with his magic as you pass along the Palace hallways. He’s closer than you had initially believed, but when you finally approach the ornate double doors of your chambers, only the two Einhenjar stand outside. 
You breeze quickly past them with a brief nod, stepping straight into the empty living area of your chambers. There’s nothing to suggest that Loki is anywhere within or lurking in the rooms beyond, so you haltingly let your guard down. 
Beyond the walls of your chamber, you hear the merry sounds of the warriors making their way to Odin in the heart of the Palace to boast of their victory. They pass by in a raucous cacophony of cheers and shouts - still loudly retelling the events of each battle to their eager audience of courtiers - and you prepare for your husband to come striding through the doors energised by victory.
But they remain firmly closed.
Your brow furrows at the same time a knot of disappointment twists in your stomach. Loki’s letters from the battlefield had been dripping with innuendo and filthy promises of how he planned to ravish you upon his return - some so salacious that you’d had to lock the doors to your bedchamber early in the afternoon. 
Surely, after so many promises of debauchery, he wouldn’t choose an audience with Odin over you. 
The sounds of Thor and his fellow warriors become increasingly more faint and still there’s no sign of Loki. You wait another minute and then start towards the doors, but you’ve barely taken three steps when a familiar pair of arms wrap around your middle so suddenly that you yelp in surprise. 
“I caught you, my little mouse.” Loki’s soft voice purrs in your ear, and you feel his warm lips press a lingering kiss to your cheek. 
You pretend to huff, but it’s impossible to stop the smile that spreads across your face at being back in your husband’s embrace. “How do you always manage to do that?”
His answering laughter makes your heart swell. How had you survived six whole weeks without him? 
Loki places one last kiss to your temple and twirls you around in his arms. You’re flush against his chest and the familiar feeling of safety washes warmly over you. “Do you forget to whom you are married, dove?” he teases, eyes twinkling as he gazes at you. 
“As if such a thing is even possible!” you reply, teasing him just as easily.
“Little vixen,” he murmurs, and pulls you tighter against his chest. “Did you miss me?” 
Briefly, you consider teasing him a little more, but something in his eyes makes you reconsider. Reflected in them clear as day is how deeply he missed you and how desperately he needs to hear you say that you noticed his absence. 
“Like one would miss a limb,” you say softly and twist your arms around his shoulders.
Loki smiles and dips his head to kiss you gently. It’s sweet and innocent yet it still awakens six weeks of need within you. Your fingers curl greedily into his hair as you pull him to you, silently begging him for more, but you only feel him bite your lower lip and pull back. 
“Don’t you wish to go and congratulate Thor and the others? I’m sure they would relish the praise of their Princess,” he says, his pretty green eyes dancing with mischief at your pout. 
“The only thing I wish to do is spend the next few hours welcoming my husband home,” you reply.
The very thought has a throbbing ache begin between your thighs. You picture tousled bed sheets and your husband's firm body writhing and flexing beneath your hungry fingers. You want to spend hours losing yourself to the feel of him and clutch him to you like a life raft as he makes Valhalla dance behind your eyes.
You want to enjoy your husband. 
Loki squeezes your hips. “You know there’s nothing in the Nine that I can deny you, darling.”
Before you can draw breath to reply, he’s easily tossing you over one shoulder and carrying you towards your bedroom. Your shrieks of laughter ring through the chamber. After six weeks, your heart is full again, swelling with love for the man who’s rushed straight home to you and is kicking the doors to your room closed with a satisfying bang. You wait for the inevitable feeling of soaring through air as he tosses you onto the bed, but seconds pass and you’re still draped over his shoulder. 
“Are we feeling sentimental this evening?” you question, only half teasing. 
By now, you had expected to be stripped and possibly restrained to the bed, but your husband appears to be in no rush to have his way with you. 
“Possibly,” Loki answers, lightly tapping your ass. 
He sets you down gently on your feet, then takes both your hands in his to raise them to his lips. They’re warm as they kiss the backs of your knuckles and his sparkling green eyes never once leave yours. 
“Undress me, darling,” he whispers softly and releases your hands.
He’s already stepped out of his heavy outer armour, likely as soon as he stepped inside the palace, leaving him in the casual, soft leather that you know all too well. Your practiced hands reach out easily to push the long overcoat off his broad shoulders, and it falls to the stone floor with a quiet thump.
The rest of his clothing is quick to follow. It’s beautifully intimate, undressing him - revealing him piece by piece so you can marvel at this beautiful man who wears your ring on his finger. You reach out to lightly trace the scars on his abdomen that weren’t there last time, scars that you’ll kiss over and over while he falls asleep in your arms later. 
“I’m fine,” Loki whispers, reading your thoughts while your fingers continue to dance over his skin. 
Your eyes dart to his, searching for any tiny flick of untruth. The god of lies he may be, but he can hide nothing from you. 
“I promise, dove.” He continues, letting his hands fall to rest on your hips. “I’ll recount the story of every new scar for you if I must.” 
Your own hands find his on your hips to pull them to the fastenings of your gown. “I insist on it, my prince,” you say with a smirk. 
Loki rolls his eyes, but the smile he gives you is nothing short of adoring. “As you wish,” he says, and begins to trail a single finger along the bodice of your gown. 
In a pale shimmer of green the fabric disappears before you, melting to nothing until you’re finally bare before him. His eyes drink you in - heavy with six weeks of pent up desire - and you can’t fight the shiver when he reaches in to suck a bruise to the juncture of your neck and shoulder. 
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, placing a kiss over your bruising skin. “Ethereal.” He adds, sliding his hands around your waist and letting them run along your lower back to squeeze your ass. 
“Mine,” he says more forcefully, placing a firm kiss to your lips at the same time his hands lock around your knees. 
You squeal against his lips as he hoists you into his arms, but easily lock your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck. You feel the shift of his body as he climbs onto the bed, but instead of being laid back amongst the generous piles of pillows as you expected, Loki positions himself back against the intricate headboard with you still straddling his lap. 
“How I missed you, my darling wife,” he says quietly when his lips leave yours, and then he’s coaxing you onto your knees before him. 
Loki takes your hand in his and guides it towards his cock, wrapping your fingers around it with a contented sigh. You know what he’s asking without him having to say a word. 
Slowly, you begin to stroke him, watching his eyes flicker closed when you increase the pressure. “Did you miss me? Or did you miss this?” you tease him. 
“How unfair of you to make me choose,” he replies instantly. 
You squeeze his cock with a smirk, not missing the quiet groan that floats from him or the slight curl of his upper lip. 
“Oh, that might cost you later, dove,” he says. It’s meant to be a warning, you know, but it only makes your core burn for him. 
“Perhaps that’s what I’m counting on,” you quip back quickly, which makes the god in your bed chuckle softly. 
His cock grows beneath your touch, which only makes a surge of power shoot straight to your head. You begin to stroke him faster and apply just the barest hint of pressure, but a large hand quickly reaches out to still yours. 
“Am I…,” you begin, but trail off when you glance towards him. 
Loki’s eyes are alight and dancing with the promise of mischief. Without a word, he edges you forward on the bed until your aching cunt is directly above his cock. You clench desperately at what you know is coming and it feels like an eternity until Loki is coaxing you down and the head of his cock is brushing teasingly against you. 
He maddingly drags himself through your soaked cunt again and again, pulling groan after groan from deep in your chest. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his shoulder, leaving a pattern of tiny half moons in their wake as you fix him with pleading eyes. 
“Fuck, Loki. Please, put it in,” you beg, needing to feel your husband fill you after six long weeks apart. 
Loki grins back mischievously. “As my love commands.” 
Slowly, he eases his cock inside you, making you take him inch by inch until you can take no more of him. He hisses at the feel of your cunt clenching wildly around him, and you’re rewarded with a stream of moans and curses until you’re fully seated on him. 
A hand closes quickly around the base of your skull to pull you in for another blistering kiss that’s lazy and wondrously sloppy. “I missed this tight little cunt,” he rasps into your ear with a roll of his hips. 
“Fuck,” you curse softly and let your head fall to his shoulder. 
He feels so blindingly good inside you that all you want to do is ride him until he can’t remember his own name, but when your hips begin to rock against his, Loki plants two strong hands on them to hold you still. 
“Ah, ah, darling. This is more than enough for now,” he says lightly. 
Not fully believing what you heard, you pull back to peer at him. “What? Loki, it’s been six -.” 
“Shhh, dove. I thought you insisted on hearing all about our time away?” he replies. 
“Yes, but not now! There will be plenty of time for you to tell me after!” You try not to whine. There had been three battles in all, and Loki had promised to tell you about all of them in detail. 
Your husband shifts beneath you, making you whimper when his cock does the same. “Perhaps, but, for now, I wish to have my darling wife warm my cock as I tell her about our victories. Would you deny me that?”
He knows that he has you. You can’t deny this man anything, even if it means spending a tortuous evening with his cock inside you. 
“No,” you reply, fighting to keep from pouting. 
Loki pulls you in for another quick kiss. “Good girl,” he says and gives another teasing roll of his hips. “If you can continue being good and not try to pleasure yourself all evening, then I will personally see to it that you don’t walk properly for the next week.”
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izvmimi · 9 months
Text
katsuki wakes you up from your midday nap with his yelling.
it isn't exactly a rude awakening - you just turn with the sudden ruckus coming from outside your bedroom - but it's enough to cause you the tiniest bit of alarm, even if being together at home is the safest place you can imagine on this earth.
it's saturday evening and he thankfully will not be gone for patrol, so you could afford the extra time to sleep off a worsening migraine. you shift out of your bed, satisfied that a combination of ibuprofen and extra z's have done their work, and make your way out towards the source of the fuss. as you get closer, you're happy to know that it's nothing serious - rather katsuki is simply speaking at loud volume into his phone, presumably irritated, but not devastated by something.
he doesn't hear you coming as light as your footsteps are, and you stand at the doorway to observe him.
"what the FUCK do you mean 'there's nothing you can do'?! i spent hours making these arrangements and you expect me to just accept a gift card like my anniversary is replaceable?!"
you blink, suppressing a yawn still, and watch him. he's agitated and you're pretty sure he's justified, although it probably isn't great for him to yell so much, even if your ears are somewhat attuned to it given your many years together. it's not like when you met him he was exactly the stoic and silent type at all times, although he could be if he wanted to.
but why would you want him to be any different than himself?
you step forward after a few more moments of him hunching over, gritting his teeth as he hears whatever palliating excuses the customer service has on the other end, then press a hand to his shoulder. he stiffens - in fact, he almost pales at your touch and his voice drops nearly to half the number of decibels, a barely audible whisper. reassessing his anger, he nods to you, then to the agent he cannot see, and clears his throat.
"i'll be a little more uh..." he glances at you, and you're smiling at him, but you're giving him the look that pleads him to be nice, and he sighs, "judicious about my willingness to do business with you in the future, but i'll accept a gift card. for now."
with that, the conversation ends. katsuki looks red for a different reason, the gentle sting of embarrassment in his cheeks. you decide not to rub it in, and find a way to settle into his lap.
"what's going on, baby?" you ask. he makes a sound of displeasure, then adjusts your position balanced atop his knee, running a hand through his hair. he then looks at you again, appraising your own emotional state before deciding to change the topic. after all, it's probably best you don't know why he lost his temper.
"did you nap well?" he asks first, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.
"not with you hollering," you tease as he lets his teeth graze gently on the skin of your collarbone. he looks up and frowns.
"was it that bad?" his voice is quieter now, lower. you tilt your head.
"you yell all the time. it's fine, i'm used to it. partially deaf at this point."
he frowns again, then mutters a "sorry."
your hand cups his chin. that one word is spoken too softly.
"hey, i'm not made of glass. speak up." you say, squeezing. he smiles, circling his own hand on your wrist before pulling it towards him to kiss the underside.
"sorry, princess!" he says louder, and you giggle, turning your head.
"what? can't hear you?"
he pulls you in and yells directly in your ear, and you scream, and he holds, both of you laughing together. once the two of you calm down, he sighs and leans back into the couch, making sure to take you with him so that you're resting on his chest.
he exhales deep and you wait, knowing he has more to say.
"you know," he starts, tracing circles into your palm, "i had an ex-" you bristle for a moment, and he grins at you, then kisses your forehead, "that thought i was too loud."
"loud, yes. too loud? i'm not sure," you reply.
he shrugs. "she would bristle any time she heard me talking. i would never yell at her, but i guess i scared her in some way just by the tone of my voice."
"mm." part of you wonder what they expected; he's always lived boisterously, with no pretense otherwise, but you keep mum.
"so i felt like i couldn't really be myself around them. obviously not the way i can be with you."
katsuki looks away from you for a moment and in space as though he is thinking, and then soon time is up, and his focus shifts back to you, giving you a cheeky grin.
"thanks for putting up with me," he says. again his voice is soft and quiet, because he addresses you with care, not because you've demanded him to adjust for you, but because he wants to.
you peck his nose. "well, when i go deaf in both ears, i'll reconsider."
he rolls his eyes playfully, and you pull his ear and yell, "i love you!"
he threatens to throw you off of him again, and you playfight until you're both rested on the couch, content in each other's arms.
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destourtereaux · 9 months
Text
just a little bit of hope - peeta mellark x fem!reader
⤷ summary: with katniss and gale both gone, peeta steps in as an unlikely hunting partner for y/n. ⤷ wc: 2.6k ⤷ requested? yes. see request here. ⤷ follow @lovebirdupdates and turn on notifs to be on my 'taglist'!
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⤷ a/n: two things - one, peeta has dimples here, it's just how i imagine him, so please bear with me; two, pretend gale's father is alive please, i didn't think our girl would be able to support two families, no matter how strong she is.
___
The day is horridly warm, exacerbated by a heavy humidity. As you wake, hot air suffocates your surroundings, and the sun glares through the window, hung on a span of blue sky. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, your bare feet find the ground, then immediately retract. The floor is burning hot, baked by the sun. You grit your teeth and force your feet back onto the wood, ignoring the searing heat. You have things to do.
You make a bowl of porridge, watery, but edible. You drink half, and leave the rest for your mother. Your father is off to the mines already, his boots absent. You get dressed, pulling on the prettiest dress you own. You're ready. Or, as ready as one can be. 
Today, there will be no hunting with Katniss and Gale, no trading at the Hob. Today, there is only the reaping.
___
You spot Katniss at the edge of the square, gripping her sister's hand. Your friend looks nothing like she normally does. Gone are the boots and hunting jacket, replaced by a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt. You nod grimly at her; neither of you feels like smiling.
Gale is over on the other side of the square, across from the stage they've set up. Your eyes meet, and he mouths "good luck".
After a few minutes of the routine announcements, Haymitch is introduced, then Effie. By now, the crowd has settled into an air of grimness, despite the clear blue sky overhead.
You don't hear Effie's jokes, and nobody laughs. She finally stops smiling, looking extremely awkward – you almost feel bad for her. Almost.
Then, she sticks her hand in the ball of names, each carrying a life, and pulls one out. Her smile is back on her face when she announces, "Without further ado, our female tribute is: Katniss Everdeen!"
You freeze, repeating her words in your head as if hoping they'd sound different. Your oldest friend – determined, brave Katniss, given a death sentence.
But Effie doesn't wait. Her next words are just as devastating. "And for our male tribute: Gale Hawthorne! Come on up now, dear, don't be shy."
Peacekeepers erupt through the crowd, grabbing your two best friends in the entire world by the shoulders, and forcing them up to the stage. Katniss whips her head around, looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what she's asking for.
"I'll take care of her, Katniss. I won't let her die. And you can't let yourself die, okay? Promise me. Katniss! Promise me!"
Your last words are hysterical, but ironically, Katniss is not. Having heard your commitment to Prim, she is satisfied. She yanks her arms free of the Peacekeepers and walks by herself, her head held high and her face serene.
You grab Prim's hand. Her whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs. You don't hear Effie's last words, but you know what they are.
"May the odds be ever in your favor."
___
It's been two weeks since the reaping which stole your best friends. It's shocking how quickly you fell back into routine, as if nothing has even changed. The only indicator of their absence is an added part of your day: splitting your earnings between your family and Prim's.
There are now double the mouths to feed, so you spend double the hours in the forest hunting. Villagers are sympathetic – that may be the only reason you're all still alive. They love Prim, and they trust you. Everything you hunt manages to be traded.
But still, you're cracking. It's just too much, and you don't know if it'll ever get better. You have no idea what Katniss and Gale are going through right now, and you don't let yourself think of them. It would break your heart.
___
Peeta Mellark has always been observant. His teachers told his parents this, back when he was a child. It's this trait that makes him notice you. The girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, killing herself day after day to provide for not one, but two whole families.
He doesn't understand how no one else sees it. But maybe they do – it's just that no one in District 12 is really in a position to do anything about it. Still, the fact remains that you're close to breaking. You can't keep doing this alone.
Peeta Mellark has never been brave. His mother yells at him, beats him, and he takes it. He has never talked back to teachers, or dared disobey the Peacekeepers. So when he offers to hunt with you, he surprises even himself.
"What?"
"I'm Peeta Mellark. We were in the same class, and my parents run the bakery. I was wondering if I'd be able to hunt with you?"
So you weren't hallucinating. The baker's son – a boy you didn't think could kill a fly – had just asked to hunt with you. Your shock translates into a small laugh, not that anything about the situation is funny, really. Hurt flashes in Peeta's eyes, and you quickly backtrack.
"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Y/N L/N, I know who you are. I just didn't think you'd be the hunting type," you explain. Because you're gentle, and kind, and I've never seen you hurt anyone, with your words or physically. But you don't add that last part. 
"I've only ever hunted with Katniss and Gale, you must know them, they were reaped this year." Your voice cracks a bit with those last words, and Peeta acknowledges the fact with a nod. His hand twitches; he wants to pat you on the back, or grip your shoulder, anything to stop the melancholy leaking into your eyes, but he doesn't.
"But you're welcome to join me," you end with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.
___
The new partnership starts early the following day. You meet a groggy Peeta near his home, and the two of you begin the walk to the Meadow.
You hear no electrical hum from the fencing, which means it's safe to touch, and you guide Peeta across the boundary which separates the Seam from the forest. This is all illegal, you know, but you're too used to it to even notice. Peeta, on the other hand, feels an exhilarating sense of rebellion as he crosses the barbed wire, following your figure into the woods.
"You've never hunted before, have you?" you probe, although it's more of a confirmation than an actual question.
Peeta nods. "But I'm a quick learner. And I won't get in your way, I promise."
You smile, a genuine one this time. "We'll see about that, Mellark."
Over the next hour, you go over all the traps you had set from the day before, collecting from Katniss and Gale's traps as well. True to his word, Peeta picks it up quickly, and even has a great eye for camouflaging the traps. This becomes his task, using grass and twigs and flowers as his medium, painting a deceptive scene which looks safe and welcoming to the many squirrels and rabbits in these parts.
You also start him on foraging. Only one type of berry is poisonous in the Meadow, and it's easy to identify. You make sure he's clear on which to avoid, and leave him to it, while you head to the hollowed out tree where you've hidden your knives. The familiar sight of Katniss' bow and arrows within the trunk brings a pang in your heart. You leave them nestled within and retrieve only your daggers. You were never a good archer.
Another hour passes, and you return to Peeta with a deer. You're happier than you have been in weeks – this will be enough for almost a week's worth of food. Peeta is not empty-handed either, he has two buckets of progress, one filled with strawberries, the other with raspberries. He gives you a soft smile – he has dimples, you think. He then immediately turns a faint shade of green, having noticed the dead deer. 
You're seized with the desire to laugh, "Why'd you offer to hunt with me if you get queasy from the sight of game?"
He looks at you with an indignant pout, and you can't stop the giggle that tumbles out, then the full on laughter. 
"I'm not like this with all game, just, you know, the larger animals. I can look at dead squirrels just fine – stop laughing!"
Making your way back, within the District, you stop just outside of the fence to split your gatherings.
"Take the squirrels and rabbits, and the bucket of raspberries. I'll keep the deer and trade the strawberries with the mayor," you offer.
"No, you take it all," he crosses the barrier carrying the buckets, and you follow after him, shaking your head.
"I can't, Peeta. That wouldn't be right. This is a fair split."
"I never said I wanted to keep what we hunt. Only that I wanted to hunt with you, Y/N. Take it. I know you need it more than I do. I'll see you next weekend?"
And with that, he pops a strawberry in his mouth, smiling at the sweetness, and walks away.
You're left with your mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.
___
The next morning, you show up at the bakery. His bakery. You earned a few dollars from selling your strawberries to the mayor, and you figure that if Peeta won't take anything, you should buy from him instead.
A few dollars is enough for two loaves of good bread, and so you head to the bread aisle. But your gaze catches on the beautiful cakes on display, decorated with multi-colored icing and swirling script written in melted chocolate.
"I did those," comes a voice from behind you.
Whipping your head around, you see Peeta himself, looking at the cakes with fondness and a bit of pride.
"You did what?"
"The cakes. I decorated them. My mom bakes, but I decorate. I like doing it – it's like painting, just on a different canvas."
"They're really lovely. You have a talent for it," you confirm, "I bet that's why you were so good at hiding traps yesterday. You can see nature's patterns."
He gives you a soft smile in return, and you can see the dimples again. They're adorable, you think. I want to see them every day.
He gives a small cough, looking at you questioningly.
You startle, and blush a deep crimson. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I'm here to buy bread. Two loaves," you say as you lower your head to stare down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.
It's only when you hear a chuckle that you lift your head back up. Peeta's eyes are sparkling, and his dimples are clear as ever.
"I'll give you three."
___
Two months after the reaping, your partnership with Peeta is still going strong. Every Saturday, the two of you head to the woods, and spend half the day fishing, gathering, and hunting. Originally silent company has evolved into true friendship, with witty banter, fleeting touches, and shared smiles.
You have come to know Peeta Mellark. He isn't just the baker's son, the one who decorates cakes and hates seeing dead animals. He's the boy who saved you, when no one even knew that you needed saving. 
Day after day, he has shown up, offering kindness, companionship, and warmth, without expecting anything in return. You care about him more than you thought you could ever care about someone who wasn't family. You care about his messy blond hair, and you care about his broad shoulders. You care about his blue eyes which sparkle when he tells a joke, and his beautiful heart which leads him to give the occasional customer an extra free loaf. Most of all, you care about his dimples, which come out when he smiles at you. You care so much about him, that it scares you.
And Peeta cares about you. He cares about your hands, calloused but nimble, lethal when holding onto your twin daggers. He cares about your face, how it glows when you laugh at his jokes in the woods, but dims a bit when you're back in the district. He cares about your hair, always tied in a ponytail when in the Meadow, but left to flow freely down your shoulders when hunting's over. Most of all, he cares about your smile, which comes out when Prim thanks you week after week for your help, and forces you to take bottles of goat milk and pet Buttercup. He cares so much about you, that it scares him.
___
This hunting day, Peeta comes with news from the Capitol. A few weeks back, he started giving you updates on the Games, after you told him that you couldn't stomach the thought of watching your friends fight to the death.
"Y/N! Good news!" he greets, exiting the bakery. As the two of you begin your walk, he adds, "I'll tell you when we get to the Meadow."
"You're insufferable, Mellark. You can't just hook me like that, and not tell me what it is."
Peeta doesn't answer, so you start walking twice as fast, ushering him toward the edge of the Seam so you could figure out what exactly he wanted to tell you.
Once in the grassy plains of the Meadow, between the forest and the fence, you turn back to the boy, the impatience evident in your face.
"Tell me, Peeta, or I swear I'll –"
"Alright, alright," he laughs, "but it's not really good news, per se. It's just a little bit of hope."
You nod, urging him to continue.
"It's about the Games. About Katniss and Gale."
The last traces of your smile fade. Concern is etched onto your face, and your eyebrows scrunch up, your jaw tightens.
Noticing this, Peeta pulls you in by the waist, so that your head lands on his shoulder. "It's good news, Y/N. Don't look so defeated. They're both still alive, and they're fighting."
"But at least one of them won't be coming back," you whisper into his neck, so quietly you wonder if he even heard. But Peeta always hears you.
"Y/N. That's the news. They could both come back. Caesar Flickerman has just announced that they will be changing the rules this year – allowing two victors of the Games, provided they're tributes from the same district!"
You look up at him in awe. A change to the Games. Katniss and Gale, not one or the other. Both could win. Both could come back.
You choke down a sob, staring at Peeta's brilliant smile and those mesmerizing dimples. And before you can process what you're doing, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a bout of bravery.
Peeta's frozen for a second, before he begins to reciprocate the kiss in earnest. He pulls you in, one hand holding your neck and the other wrapped around your torso, pressing himself impossibly closer. He tastes like icing and strawberries, and you can smell the comforting scent of warm bread.
The kiss ends far too quickly for your liking, and you're suddenly impossibly shy, all bravado gone. You lower your eyes so you won't have to meet his eyes, but realize that you're practically sitting on his lap, having moved there at some point during the kiss. This observation brings a flaming blush onto your cheeks, and you scramble to move away, but you're held in place by Peeta's arms, forming an iron-tight cage around your figure.
He brings a hand to your chin, lifting it up, and kisses you again, more gently this time.
"Don't go all shy on me now, Y/L/N," he teases, and holds the back of his hand against your forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "You're burning up, darling."
"You know damn well that's not a fever–", you start, but you're cut off by his laughter, and once again distracted by those dimples of his. 
Maybe Peeta was right. Maybe there is just a little bit of hope left for you.
___
interested in other works of mine? see my masterlist!
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thewailingbells · 3 months
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Hello~~
I discovered your profile not long ago (literally yesterday) and I loved your writing. You made me more in love with Thomas Hewitt than I already am!!!
Could we have a fic where Thomas and S/O are already lovers but for some reason S/O has to leave or travel to another city for a few months and this leaves Thomas completely devastated and stressed. Even Luda Mae and Hoyt notice the change in his behavior while s/o is away and when s/o finally returns home,she has to find some way to de-stress Thomas who is dying of missing her. 😞 (No need to write NSFW if you feel uncomfortable!!!!)
(English isn't my first language so I literally translated this whole thing on google... lmao.)
Always Forever
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AN: AFAB Reader. This is my first time writing smut! I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Sex, nudity, fingering, rough sex, piv, creampie, general nsfw things.
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“Thomas, you know I have to go.”
Your boyfriend was standing behind you, arms wrapped tightly around your torso, and his head buried into your shoulder. Your words only made him squeeze you tighter.
“Tommy, I need to go see my family. They miss me, and I promised I would visit them for the week! I wanted you to come with me; you know that, but Hoyt said no.
He sighed, knowing you were right. His uncle needed him to stay home and take care of the house. God knows what would happen if Tommy wasn’t around.
Since you started dating him, there hasn’t been a day when you two were apart. Thomas didn’t want to let you go, but he knew he had to. He spent the rest of your time together, following you around as you packed your bags. Noon came quicker than you expected, signaling it was time for you to go.
You said your goodbyes to Luda, Hoyt, and Charlie as you walked out the door. Tommy was already outside, having carried your bags to the car. Once all of your luggage was neatly packed up, you smiled at him. You pulled him into a tight hug before kissing him. “I love you. I promise I’ll be back.”
You got inside your car and smiled at him. With that, you drove off. Tommy waited until your car was nowhere in sight to go back into the house.
“Tommy,” Hoyt said, “How’s it feel now that your bitch is gone?”
Thomas ignored his words and stomped down into the basement. He could hear the sound of bickering between Hoyt and Luda Mae, most likely due to Hoyt’s crass language.
Tommy wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had been in the basement. He just kept chopping and chopping and chopping the animal meat laid in front of him. He had been cutting meat for years now, to the point where he didn’t even have to think about it.
“Tommy! Tommy! Get up here now,” Luda Mae shouted. His mother’s voice awoke him from his thoughts. He walked up the stairs. Luda Mae looked at her boy with sad eyes. “Tommy. You’ve been in the basement for six hours. It’s time to stop now, sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you some food and water.”
The next few days, Thomas would go to work at the crack of dawn and come home hours after the sun had set. When he came home, he would wait by the door for a few moments. He thought that maybe you would have come back early, but you didn’t.
The week had gone by. You had promised him you would be back home on Monday by one o’clock in the afternoon. Thomas believed you. Why wouldn’t he? However, it became harder and harder to believe you as the hours on the clock ticked by. Tommy sat by the front door. Watching. Waiting.
Hoyt sighed and came up behind Tommy. He placed his hand on his shoulder. “Boy, I don’t know how to tell ya this, but I don’t think she’s coming back.”
Thomas’s eyes grew wide. He shook his head. You were coming back. He knew it.
“Thomas, it’s six o’clock. She said she'd be home by one. I don’t see her anywhere. Do you?”
Tommy placed his head in his hands. He wished Hoyt wouldn’t say things like that. Things that were not true. But then again, Tommy had never been the brightest. Maybe you never loved him. Maybe this was the perfect opportunity for you to escape from him. When Thomas was about to spiral into distress, he heard a car door slamming.
Thomas jumped out of his chair and rushed to the door. He opened it with such force that it nearly flew off the hinges. That’s when he saw it—your car in the driveway. He ran towards it.
You quickly stepped out of your car, beautiful as ever. You smiled when you saw him. “Tommy! I’m so sorry I’m late. I was-” Your sentence was cut off when Thomas picked you up off the ground and pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. You tried to wiggle out, worrying his grip was too tight, but you gave into the hug and snuggled against him. You knew he needed this.
Eventually, he put you down on the ground. “Tommy, I told you I would be back. I’d never leave you. I love you so much. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”
He didn’t say anything. He leaned down and kissed you. It was rough and passionate. Before it escalated, he threw you over his shoulder and brought you inside.
Hoyt smiled at the sight of you. “Well, would you look at that? She came back! Luda was right,” he muttered to himself.
Thomas brought you upstairs to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed and quickly pinned you down. Your faces were inches away from each other. The room was silent except for the sounds of both of you panting.
Tommy gently cupped your breast. He looked at you with pleading eyes.
You nodded. “Go ahead. Do whatever you want to me, Tommy.”
He immediately got to work, his movements faster than usual. Normally, he would take his time with you. Not today, though.
He roughly grabbed the waist of your pants and yanked them down. You let out a squeak in surprise. He grabbed both of your wrists in one of his large hands, keeping them suspended above your head. He balled your t-shirt up in one of his fists before forcefully tugging it up. He released his grip, allowing you to slide it off.
Tommy let out a desperate whine at the sight of your body. You were dressed in white lace lingerie. It was nothing much; it was very simplistic, looking like it could pass for a normal pair of undergarments. Despite that, Tommy nearly came in his pants at the sight of you.
He leaned down and nestled his face in the crook of your neck. He aligned his clothed cock with your clothed pussy. He began to desperately hump you. Tommy felt shameful; you could tell by the way he hid his face. Never in his life had he been this desperate for anything. He wanted, no, he needed to be close to you in any way. He had to show you how much he loved you.
A breathy moan fell from your lips. “Tommy, Tommy, calm down. I can take care of you.” You began to sit up. He pushed the middle of your chest, causing you to fall back onto the bed. You sighed, knowing he wanted to do everything himself today.
He pulled your panties to the side, exposing your pussy. He ran his thick fingers up against your lips to feel your wetness. He roughly put one of his fingers inside of you, causing you to throw your head back and moan in pleasure. He would usually give you time to adjust to it, but not today. Today, he immediately shoved his second finger inside your hole as well. Your back arched as he roughly finger-fucked you harder than ever before. Tommy then put his thumb on your clit, gently circling it.
Once he felt your walls begin to stretch for him, he removed his fingers. You whined in annoyance. Thomas unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out. It was rock hard and dripping with precum. He aligned himself with your hole and then fully bottomed out in one swift movement.
You mewled in pleasure. “Tommy! Fuck, Tommy~”
He immediately began to roughly pound into you. The feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock drove him crazy. Your moans got louder and louder, not caring who heard them.
He reached down to toy with your clit, bringing you so close to the edge. You grabbed the blankets on the bed.
Tommy was so close. He needed to come so badly. You looked at him with lustful eyes. “I love you~ cum for me. Cum for me, Tommy.”
With one particular rough thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came. He let out a deep moan as his seed began to fill you up. Thomas nearly collapsed on top of you. He grabbed your waist and flipped you onto him, his cock still deep inside you. Your entire body was pressed tightly against him. He wrapped his hands around your smaller frame to keep you in place.
Once you had calmed down, you sighed contently. You reached up and pushed some of his hair out of his face. “I told you I would come back, didn’t I?”
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