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#hes more bill to me in this clip
astonmartinii · 1 month
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ice, ice baby (literally) | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x raikkonen!reader
the ice man may have never spoken, but his daughter never shuts the fuck up
based on the request from @blue-skyandstars
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 783,409 others
yourusername: taking names and kicking asses (and getting all assignments in on time with an appropriate amount of ass licking)
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user1: i love how she is so clearly kimi's daughter
user2: the only two blondes that don't freak me out
user3: insert that paris hilton clip "can i have two more of these little blonde bitches?"
maxverstappen1: what's an appropriate amount of ass licking and can i demonstrate on you?
maxverstappen1: wait! who said that?
yourusername: in your dreams car boy
maxverstappen1: trust me i see you in my dreams all the time
yourusername: so that's why you're always in the shower when i call you in the morning....
user4: i'm new here, are they together?
yourusername: wouldn't you like to know weather boy
maxverstappen1: she's actually my sleep paralysis demon, sorry to say
user5: they're so unserious
kimiraikkonen: keep those studies up i'm paying the bills
yourusername: i promise to use my status as a nepo baby for good papa 🫡
kimiraikkonen: proud of you.
user6: we love a self aware girly
user7: the raikkonen household really is the best balance, a guy who acts like talking causes him physical pain and a girl who couldn't shut the fuck up if she tried
yourusername: no way i'd rather it be
charles_leclerc: how many versions of that shirt do you have?
yourusername: enough...
charles_leclerc: and i'm the one who is a threat to national security when i go shopping
yourusername: that trouser collection should get you on some sort of list
user8: all these f1 drivers in her likes and comments and she's not cuffed... why is she fumbling so bad
yourusername: am I fumbling or are THEY?
user9: expose the dms please
yourusername: that would not be pg13 soz!
maxverstappen1
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liked by kimiraikkonen, landonorris and 1,094,556 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: oh look who decided to come back
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user10: max is so annoyed that she decided to go to school in the us that he makes all american fans lives hell by winning all the races
user11: so true of him
landonorris: matching books? you're such a simp
maxverstappen1: is a man forbidden to be in a book club? who backwards of you lando
yourusername: just because you can't read, don't take it out on us
landonorris: i can read!
yourusername: name the last book you read
yourusername: and that doesn't include searching your name on twitter
landonorris: can you go back already, you're so mean
yourusername: don't come for our two man book club if you can't handle the smoke
maxverstappen1: what she said
user12: i love how spring break starts and y/n doesn't even go to see her dad, straight to max
maxverstappen1: kimi is coming! i am NOT a bad friend who deprives y/n of her dad
user12: you're also scared of kimi
maxverstappen1: i'm also scared of kimi
danielricciardo: you're in my building and i don't get any baked goods... i see how it is
yourusername: as if max is allowed to eat them anyway they're for dad
danielricciardo: i promptly take back anything i've ever said
user13: max has got to be down bad to have that much baking equipment in his house when it's canon he can barely cook eggs
yourusername: if he wanted to he would
user14: is this confirmation?
yourusername: i hope those are paper straws you're grasping at
maxverstappen1: why wouldn't i make sure i have the equipment to get my worker bee to make me sweet treats (don't read that rupert)
user15: i'm on to you two ... there's something shady going on here
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sebastianvettel
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liked by kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,409 others
tagged: yourusername
sebastianvettel: she's too old, i miss when she was a nice and polite child
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user19: annual god father seb appearance
user20: y/n please work your magic to get him to a race this weekend
yourusername: i'm working on it! watch out for suzuka
user21: the people's princess truly
yourusername: rude! i am a very polite young woman 🙁
sebastianvettel: yes you are, but also when you were ten you didn't bother me with your love life
sebastianvettel: and you weren't so fussy with food
yourusername: I AM NOT FUSSY I JUST HAVE AN ACQUIRED TASTE
sebastianvettel: you asked me to uninvite lewis to our dinner plans because you "hate that quinoa shit, i'm hungry enough to kill a horse with my bare hands"
yourusername: and i'd say it again!
lewishamilton: first of all: rude. second of all: i knew there was a reason you and max get on so well - BLAND
maxverstappen1: just because my food doesn't turn my shit green or couldn't accidentally be sold in the rabbit section of the pet store doesn't make me BLAND
yourusername: i don't trust a man who makes non-alocholic tequila THE FACT IT GETS YOU DRUNK IS THE BEST PART OF THE TEQUILA ONLY WEIRDOS DRINK TEQUILA FOR THE TASTE
lewishamilton: gasp! you said you liked it!
yourusername: i try to be supportive okay :(
user22: well that was something
user23: max always coming to the rescue ... makes you think
charles_leclerc: i am sensing some blatant favouritism here
mickschumacher: i never get invited on baking weekends :(
yourusername: snooze you lose ladies
sebastianvettel: this is exactly what i mean y/n
yourusername: my bad! i'm sorry my god father loves me more than you :p get well soon
sebastianvettel: that's not-
charles_leclerc: consider yourself in beef
yourusername: it's on babe
user24: gosh i'm so confused WHO THE FUCK DO I WANT TO GET WITH HER
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 809,445 others
yourusername: boy, oh, boy am i ready to finish this semester
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user26: i see tulips i do deduce that they are from max verstappen 🤓👆
user27: i hate you invasive leeches (i believe this and it is now my personal headcanon)
maxverstappen1: SEAT BELT PLEASE
yourusername: i swear i did 😫
maxverstappen1: you need to protect the precious goods
landonorris: you never tell me that 🙁
maxverstappen1: you're not precious goods, hope this helps x
landonorris: i see how it is
yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game lando
user28: they've either got the single most flirtatious friendship ever to exist or they're together
user29: if they are just friends and those flowers are from her actual gf - i am not being dramatic but i would take a long walk off a short plank
user30: i feel like they'd be the ultimate cockblocks for each other 😭
kimiraikkonen: proud of you bub
yourusername: i am losing hair from academic stress i hope you're happy papa
kimiraikkonen: i am 👍🏻
yourusername: i am losing hair - LOSING HAIR THIS IS A BIG DEAL YOU PAY FOR MY APPOINTMENTS
kimiraikkonen: you need a college education so you're not wasting all of my money - i also pay your sorority dues so be nice to me
yourusername: i'm tired let me be the low effort nepo baby i am meant to be
user31: can kimi raikkonen pay for my hair appointments too?
jensonbutton: is that MY CAR?
yourusername: you put me on the insurance?
jensonbutton: yeah for when your car was in the shop - i thought shelby was still in my garage?
yourusername: not to victim blame but having so many cars you don't notice one is gone, that's on you
jensonbutton: @KIMIRAIKKONEN YOUR KID STOLE MY CAR
yourusername: britt gave me the keys !!!!!!
kimiraikkonen: you got duped by a 21 year old, that's not my fault
user32: kimi when y/n jokes about dropping out 🤨 kimi when y/n steals one of jenson's cars 🥹
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maxverstappen1
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liked by kimiraikkonen, landonorris and 2,305,689 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: ice, ice baby (except you're smoking hot)
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user35: WHOOP WHOOP LET'S FUCKING GO
user36: max already having the approval of kimi, that's my king
maxverstappen1: make no mistake i went to the raikkonen household with many offerings before i asked for his permission
user37: and if he had said no?
maxverstappen1: i would've asked y/n regardless 🫡
kimiraikkonen: 🤨
maxverstappen1: uh? i'm digging my own grave but i love your daughter so that's all the matters right? RIGHT?
kimiraikkonen: 🙄
maxverstappen1: WOULD IT KILL YOU TO USE THE KEYBOARD I'M HAVING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN HERE
user38: the way max got given approval on live tv with more words than we've heard from kimi at any point in his career and he's still a shaking mess
user39: anxious girl representation
yourusername: you melted this icicle
maxverstappen1: eh i think you've always been a softy
charles_leclerc: like softserve ice cream? shop @lec now!
maxverstappen1: do you fucking mind?
yourusername: really? on the post of my boyfriend professing his love?
charles_leclerc: god forbid a guy chases the bag (also he called you smoking hot, that's hardly a profession of love)
maxverstappen1: you little rat
yourusername: lifetime supply of lec and a flavour named after us and consider yourself forgiven
charles_leclerc: i don't need your approval that much
yourusername: @kimiraikkonen @sebastianvettel you seeing this shit?
charles_leclerc: fine... weaponising your dad and god father is a low blow
yourusername: also! i love you baby - thank you for putting up with my constant yapping xx
maxverstappen1: i love you even more, i can't wait for you to finish college so i never have to share you ever again
kimiraikkonen: 🤨
maxverstappen1: AND YOUR LOVELY FAMILY
yourusername: they love you really maxy don't worry
yourusername
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liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 1.945,440 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: i'm so talented, i brought three more championships to the family without even getting into the car
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user40: okay idk why yall were shipping anyone else, i've seen one picture of them being cute and am sold
user41: i'm so convinced this happened cause max saw people were convinced she was with other people on the grid and he had to mark his territory
maxverstappen1: yes i was jealous but can you blame me? prettiest girl in the world actually wanted me back. i will not fumble this
user42: i need my man to be this down bad for me
kimiraikkonen: cute.
yourusername: thank you papa xxx
maxverstappen1: THANK YOU KIMI, LOVE YOU KIMI
yourusername: i think he gets it babe...
maxverstappen1: first time i've got a non-emoji answer, i will savour it
user43: oh my i love them your honour
sebastianvettel: happy for you guys, see you guys soon
yourusername: love you seb!
maxverstappen1: thanks for the vote of confidence seb
sebastianvettel: you may be a literal nightmare child, but you're our nightmare child now
kimiraikkonen: what he said
maxverstappen1: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (i am ignoring that you called me a nightmare child, i was 17 give me a break)
yourusername: you guys he's crying hahahahahah
maxverstappen1: i just love you guys (y/n more)
yourusername: i love you too xx
user44: so liked now we've got the relationship reveal... when do we get both y/n and kimi in the red bull garage
user45: lets up the stakes and get max, kimi and seb in the 24 hours of le mans
yourusername: oh now you've started it - he's already on the phone to adrian
maxverstappen1: am i the first nepotism boyfriend?
kimiraikkonen: you might be the favourite of the in-laws if you get me a le mans win
maxverstappen1: y/n is an only child? i'm the only in law?
kimiraikkonen: yes?
maxverstappen1: I'M ON THE PHONE TO ADRIAN
yourusername: did i just lose my boyf to my dad?
fin.
note: babe the writer's block is back. but i'm fighting it. hope yall enjoyed this!
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weebsinstash · 4 months
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Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them
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I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure
He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino
I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"
But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED
One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"
And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')
Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--
When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.
But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"
And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"
And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"
At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--
The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.
IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails
"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"
"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"
"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"
"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"
"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"
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satoruxx · 3 months
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pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | 1.2k words summary: fluff, toji being his sarcastic asshole self, but secretly a softie, more grumpy x sunshine content to feed the soul, reader is a uni student, toji ACTUALLY having MONEY???? rheya's note: more grumpy toji bc i'm in love w him !! this is lowkey not great but i have nothing else to post so here <33
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you drum your fingers against your lips, eyes scouring the racks of pastries and sweets to satisfy the steady rumble brewing low in your stomach.
a quick snack before your final exam—that's the plan. so you let your eyes wander until they fall on a warm croissant, looking oh so delectable with its crusted flakes and buttery goodness. so you smile to yourself and head over to the register, eager to get your hands on the snack after a long morning of hard work and studying.
you wait patiently behind the customer in front of you, tapping your foot idly as you scroll on your phone to pass the time, until the cashier calls you up with a wave of his hand.
"what can i get for you?" he asks, and you immediately tap your finger against the glass.
"a croissant please."
he nods, reaching out to grab it with a napkin before dropping it into a paper bag. you fiddle with your wallet, pulling out your credit card and handing it to him, but his expression turns slightly awkward.
"oh sorry," he winces, turning around a sign next to the register. there in bold letters it reads: CARDS NOT ACCEPTED. CASH ONLY.
your shoulders drop, fingers frantically digging into the crevices of your wallet even though you know there isn't any cash in there.
dammit. should've gone to the bank to withdraw some after tipping the delivery guy last week.
"i don't think i have cash on me…" you trail off, face heating up because you're sure that the customers waiting behind you are now slightly ticked off.
the cashier scratches at his wrist awkwardly, giving you a half apologetic shrug. "sorry…"
your face twists, embarrassment thrumming low in your stomach as you shut your wallet with a resigned sigh. "it's fine, you can just leave it—"
"i got it." a deep voice utters from behind you, tone careless. you turn to look over your shoulder only to find your throat going dry, because whoever you were expecting to see was nothing like what this man looked like.
a towering, imposing build, heavy with muscle. sharp, angular features framed by jet black hair that just barely tickled his neck. and deep green eyes that are staring down at you, emotionless. the only change in his features is the tug of his scarred lips when they take in your wide eyed expression.
"oh—uh—" you stumble, caught off guard, the words coming up all jumbled like you've forgotten how to speak. the man moves closer, now hovering right behind you as he reaches a bulky arm out to drop a few bills onto the counter. you inhale sharply, not expecting the proximity.
"that about cover it?" he tilts his head at the cashier, who has gone quiet. he nods, too quickly, a nervous dip in his brows that you don't quite comprehend. but then you glance at the man again—at his hulking frame and narrowed eyes and his unkind expression, and you guess you understand.
and yet, nothing about him is inherently scary. he's intimidating, but in an oddly comforting way.
"a-and anything for you sir?" the cashier asks, giving the man a nervous smile.
"coffee. black." his tone is clipped, unbothered, and the cashier nods. he reaches over and hands you your bagged croissant.
"then if you could just wait to the side and we'll have your coffee ready in a minute, sir."
the man nods once, glancing at you briefly before taking a few steps to wait to the side.
"thank you," you say quietly, feeling oddly parched as you look at him. he peers down at you with those striking eyes, and you offer him a smile—half sheepish and half grateful.
"don't worry about it," he replies with a shrug, casually shoving his hands into his pockets. "couldn't have you holdin' up the line."
he nods behind you, motioning to the line, and you huff indignantly, ignoring the flare up of embarrassment once again.
"well if they put the sign on the door then i wouldn't have walked in here like an idiot," you mutter, crossing your arms. he chuckles, low and deep, shaking his head with amusement.
"'s true," he grins. "pretty fuckin' stupid of them."
you don't expect him to agree, so you just nod, mildly surprised.
"you look like you haven't eaten all day," he comments offhandedly, glancing around the cafe like he's bored. you fiddle with your hair somewhat self-consciously, and he glances down at you from the corner of his eyes. "i just mean you look exhausted."
"oh," you reply lamely, a helpless shrug of your shoulders following. "well i have a final exam in an hour and i didn't get much sleep last night."
"at least you studied hard," he hums, reaching out over the counter to take the cup of black coffee the barista hands him. he turns to look down at you with a haphazard shrug. "you did what you could. no point stressin' about it now."
"i guess…" you trail off. "still nervous though."
his lips curl upward, eyes glinting. "you should be more confident in yourself, kid." he takes a sip, tilting his head down at you, before turning and heading out into the cold.
you stare after him, not sure what to do with yourself. somehow you didn't expect it to be so easy to talk to a man who looked like he wanted to burn the world to the ground, but surprises can come in all shapes and forms.
and for some reason, his intimidating aura and indifferent stare has you oddly curious.
it's only when you peer into your paper bag, seeing the croissant that you've heroically been gifted, do you come up with a plan, pushing the door open and hurrying out into the cold. your eyes immediately catch his retreating figure, still large and imposing even with how he's hunched over to escape the bite of the cold.
"wait!" you call out after him, catching yourself before you trip on your own two feet. he pauses, turning to look down at you while arching a brow as you try to compose yourself. "uh—"
"toji." he fills in, huffing quietly as his hands remain shoved deep into his pockets.
"toji," you repeat, not admitting to enjoying the way it rolls off of your tongue so easily. "i need to pay you back."
he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "ah, don't worry about it, doll." the scar on his lips tilt upward into a half smirk. "just ace that test of yours, yeah?"
something leaps in your ribcage, and you blame the flush crawling up your neck on the stinging cold. you're not sure what to say for a second, but then an unfamiliar confidence crawls through your veins, culminating in a burst of determination.
"i'll buy you something here next time!" you don't know how or why you say it, lips clamping shut because you're sure that you're coming on too strong or coming off weird or something.
a low chuckle. you look up in surprise.
"sure." toji's grin widens, eyes shining with mirth. "i'll hold you to that one, kid."
and later, when you bite into the croissant, it's warmer than you expected it to be.
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taetaespeaks · 1 month
Text
Ferrari Friends [CL16]
f1uptades
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Liked by yourusername and 625 others
f1uptades Today, to pass time during their two weeks long break, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris and friend, Y/n Y/l/n went on a 2hours long stream on Twitch to talk and play some games.
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user1 Saw some clips on Twitter, they seem so fun to be around 🥲
user2 Are they all friends irl ?
user3 does y/n really need to go after all the drivers ?
user4 she.never.dated.any.of.them
user5 i could never be that strong
user6 fr
user7 y/n liked !!!
Liked by f1uptades
user8 She’s pretty and really down to earth ! I didn’t know she was like that, love her !
user9 her and Lando’s friendship >>>
user10 🤢🤢🤢
user11 i know she probably has a thing with Charles but i’m rotting for her and Max
user12 hello ?! he’s with kelly. meanwhile, lando is single 👀
user13 can you guys enjoy the sport and stop gossiping about people seriously ? you are the problem
user12 my bad gandhi won’t happen again
user14 Y/n being so bad at games gave me the confidence to stream again, thanks girl
yourusername don’t do me like that
y/ngirliesonly
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Liked by yourusername and 342 others
y/ngirliesonly since we haven’t been blessed with y/n content in the paddock in a month, here are some three month old pictures of her in the paddock !
Tagged : yourusername
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yourusername 🩷🩷🩷
Liked by y/ngirliesonly
user1 finally a fan page for my girl !
Liked by y/ngirliesonly
user2 i can’t believe it’s been five months since we’ve been blessed for the first time with y/n and charles content and still nothing has been announced
user3 why doesn’t she come to more races ?
user4 she’s not a wag and watching races doesn’t pay the bills
user5 hoping for more pictures of chary/n since it’s summer break 🥲🥲🥲
user6 Y/n and Lando >>>
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yourusername
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Liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and 254,217 others
yourusername summer with the girls (+ alex)
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landonorris we know damn well you’re not eating that salad girl
yourusername what the hell does that mean
user1 alex is one of the girls
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user2 wait did you guys see that ? 👀
user3 not charles liking and unliking the picture ?!👀
user4 are mom and dad getting divorced ?
user5 “mom and dad“ never were married
user4 neither were your parents, leave me alone
yourusername posted on their story
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f1gossip
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983 likes
f1gossip Seems like Charles tagged along with Lando and Y/n tonight ! 👀 Pictures just sent to me by DMs.
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user1 so they are still together ??
user2 they never dated omg 🙄
user3 it’s giving Joe Goldberg 🤩
f1wags
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2459 likes
f1wags Charles Leclerc and Y/n Y/l/n last night in Monaco ❤️
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user1 Heart’s been broke so many times…💔
user2 OMG OMG ITS HAPPENING STAY CALM
user3 can’t be charles cause my man would never cheat on me
user4 FINALLY
user5 *throwing up* I’m so happy for y’all ❤️
user6 mama y papa
user7 heartbroken would be an understatement
user8 I’m at the same hotel Y/n stays at and I just saw Charles leave at like 7am…
user9 what
user10 did y/n leave with him ?
user8 No…
user11 He ditched her ????
user8 🤷‍♀️
masterlist - part 4(you’re here) - next
taglist : @a-beaverhausen @sltwins @imsiriuslyreal @taygrls @mahii7 @nebarious @ididntseeurbag @d3kstar @tinyhrry @ririyulife @bingussthirdtoe
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luvkaulitz · 1 year
Text
🐍 BITE ME
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pairing : tom x fem! reader
summary : tom finds himself head over heels after seeing you with your new piercings, except the only way he found out was through an interview.
author's note : this isn't proofread cause I'm just too lazy also I WANT SNAKE BITE PIERCINGS SOOOOO BAD.
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"Everyone give it up for Tokio Hotel!" The interviewer clapped as the crowd cheered and clapped as the band smiled and waved. Tokio Hotel was currently at New York, Usa for a tour and got invited to do an interview for a really popular tv show. Unfortunately you got stuck back in LA for your own tour, as you were also in a band.
The cheering died down and the interviewer let the band mates introduce themselves before going to ask the questions that were submitted by their fans.
"Bill do you have a girlfriend?"
Bill laughed with a slight blush on his cheeks and shook his head as a way of saying ‘no’
"Oh no I want to find the right girl to spend the rest of my life with" Bill's answer made the other bandmates nod in agreement, but of course Tom loved teasing his little twin brother.
"Yes Bill is single so ladies hit him up" Tom pointed to the crowd and made a phone sign with his free hand. This made the crowd cheer and laugh out loud while Bill was there with a hand covering his mouth, holding in his own laugh.
The interviewer laughed and flipped his flash cards for the next question. "This question is for Tom." The interviewer announced and the crowed ooed in intussusception. Tom prepared himself for whatever question would be shot at him.
"You're in an official relationship with Y/N L/N, aka the lead singer from [band-name] correct?"
Tom's band members looked at him with smug looks on their faces, they knew you were Tom's weak spot. Maybe this was karma for teasing Bill.
Tom held his hands together and smiled. "Yes, she's been my girl for 2 years now. Our anniversary is soon actually."
The crowd clapped as a congratulations for Tokio Hotel's guitarist. Tom was known to be a playboy and they were happy that he'd found a girl to stay with instead of in Tom's own words before he met you. ”Love for one night”
The interviewer also clapped. "Congratulations you both deserve eachother."
Tom thanked the interviewer thinking his turn was over but to his surprised the interviewer announced some news he had not known about.
"So I think the audience knows this by now but Y/N and her new piercings have been trending all over social media. How do you feel about her new appearance?"
Tom raised an eyebrow. He hadn't talked to you for atleast a couple hours at most, how'd he not know about this?
"Oh? I didn't know about that." Tom and the others nodded, they had no idea about this.
"This happened just a few hours ago. Infact here's a clip from Y/N's live revealing the piercings."
The interviewer pointed towards the big tv that pointed straight towards the crowd as a video started playing.
You were on the screen with only the upper half of your face showing. Tom watched with a smile, waiting for you to talk.
"Guys I did something." You backed up from the camera showing your whole face, revealing the two silver rings on your glossy lips. You smiled showing your pearly white teeth.
Tom's eyes widened. You looked even more stunning with the new snake bite.
Your eyes scanned the comments before replying to one.
"When did you get this? Oh I got this just this morning, Tom doesn't even know about it I wanted to surprise him." You laughed at the camera before the video clip ended leaving Tom's lovestruck face stuck in the tv.
The audience awed at the sight before Tom turned his head. Like always Tom's mouth got the best of him as he spoke out loud before thinking about it.
"Damn she's hot."
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Note
hear me out….tom lowkey falling inlove w a band member and doesn’t know how to say it.. but every one can see it like how he looks at her or how he protects her. basically down bad softy and over protective tom
ps.LOVE YOUR WORKS!!
(Hello! Thank you so much and of course! Enjoy!)
Don't Speak But Act
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I feel like this is Tom to a T
Like, he had such a crush on you
Even if you're in the band or not, you were with him for so, so long
You were with him through so much shit in his life, and I think that's why he sorta developed that crush and clung to the idea of being with you
He appreciated the small things you did for him growing up
Helping with his style, making him laugh, messing with him, just plain being around him, comforting him, holding his hand, and helping fend off bullies from him and Bill
Those things are the shit that made his heart go out to you
You guys hugged, kissed, cuddled in the denial of calling it platonic affection
So hate to platonic affection, I indulge in that shit, but you guys were hiding your feelings 1000%
And it was still so painfully obvious
As you guys grew up and got famous, the crush still stayed but grew even more
But he got more confused, and more in denial he had a crush on you
More like 'I can't like them, what if they don't like me? I don't wanna lose 'em if they don't."
Even if he had that thought process, he still was always around you and still was there for you
It was also very hard when he got with fans or models
He did it tho trying to get rid of hide the feelings for you btw
He got more confident as you guys don't older obviously
He flirted a lot more, there were more touches and he stared from afar
A lot
So many interviews he's looking at you with a smile, a longing look or anything as you could be doing anything possible
He was also very more protective but not over or overbearing
He let you do as you wanted, but a guy or girl touching you or making you uncomfortable was deemed too much and Tom to the rescue we go
He was down bad for you istg
Tell him to jump off a clip and he'll do it but he'll ask for a kiss before or to hold your hand
He always like gravitated towards you in anything, on stage, on interviews or even sitting next to you on fan signings
He was always there with you, watching out of the corner of his eye to make sure you were okay
He thought you looked good in anything, and could literally fold as you wore anything
He's a down bad little bitch
He may seem like the one in control but we all know you are
Walk him like a dog, man
He'll follow proudly
Always walking behind you with his big ass pant waddle
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atinylittlepain · 4 months
Text
Warm
college!steve harrington x f!oc
series masterlist
Steve gets flustered in an art museum. She kind of likes it.
18+ smut, normal hairy female bodies, steve is kind of a perv in the best way, smut duh, and verrryyyyyy sweet, also robin and eddie being good roommates
note: the painting that Andy and Steve look at is called l'origine du monde by Gustave Corbet and you can check it out here. This fic is for bush (not the president) and bush only, thanks.
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Steve is a good guy, right? Right. Respectful, respectable, two percent in his cheerios in the morning, light wash denim and clean sneakers, and he flosses two times a day, clean bill at every dentist appointment and he shows it, curls half a smile when he holds the door open for girls on campus, all ease, all-American and alright. Studying business, and of course he is, though his parents don’t know about the women’s studies minor he picked up all because of a flushed little crush on a professor that never amounted to anything, coupled with Robin strong-arming him into taking a few more classes with her. But that’s okay, he likes the classes, and he likes the classmates.
“Do you need a partner?” 
“Hmm? Oh, I was just going to work alone actually.” Big scarf tucked up around her neck and a big coat wrapped up around her and she barely even glances at him down the slope of her nose, already refocusing on the painting in front of her. But he’s a good guy, right? Right. A real team player, tilting his head, and letting his hair fall into his face, a little shy, a little smile. She glances at him, unimpressed hook of her brow and her eyelashes lifting up over the rims of her glasses. Her name is Andy, he knows, though they haven’t spoken, at least not directly. She’s been known to correct him in class however, her hand raising after his, quick and cutting. He maybe, kinda, sorta likes that. 
“I think we’re supposed to, you know, discuss what we’re looking at with each other for the VHS thing.”
“VTS.”
“What?”
“It’s called VTS. Visual thinking strategies. Are you sure you want to discuss this painting with me?” 
“I’m game if you are.” She smiles, and he’s already thinking about which of her palms he’d like to write his number on. But when he finally looks at the painting, he finds himself to be a lot less concerned with his phone number. 
“So, Steve, what’s the first thing you notice about this painting?” 
“Um, well, I–” 
“Is it too much for you?” Heat is prickling in a bloom up his neck, her smile sharp as her eyes flit between him and the painting, the painting that he really should have looked at before approaching her.
“No, no, it’s not too much. It’s– appreciation of the female form, right?” He’s not sure where to look any more, a strange kaleidoscope with how quickly his eyes are darting between scraps of the painting and her face. A freckle under her eye, and then swaths of cream and pink brush strokes and then the hitch in her cheek where her smile curves and then, and then. 
“Hair.” His voice pitches and cracks somewhere in the word, turning one syllable into two like a hiccup. She laughs a clipped sound. 
“Hair?” 
“Around her– around her–”
“Around her cunt?” Something hot tightens in his chest, maybe shame, though shame doesn’t feel good like this does. He feels foolish, the quick whip of his head around like he’s worried they’re going to get caught, though for what he isn’t sure. Likewise, he has no clue what’s causing this devastating fluster, this feathering of heat. Whatever it is, it’s making it very hard to look at her, though the way his gaze has fixed on the painting doesn’t feel much better either. He’s never heard a woman use that word before. Actually, scratch that, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone use that word before, not in Hawkins, at least, not corn fed and halfway bible bred, at least. It sets something slick shimmering inside of him, something warm that’s making it hard to think.
“Are you blushing?” 
“I’m not, I’m just appreciating the work.”
“L’origine du monde.”
“What was that?”
“That’s the name of the painting. Origin of the world.”
“Well, that, uh, I guess that tracks.” 
“It’s a shame, don’t you think?” When he does finally look at her again, she’s smiling, all ease, all cool, and him anything but, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm into his hip. 
“What’s a shame?” She sighs, a long sound, letting her neck roll to the side so her cheek scrunches into the plush of her scarf, a wistful look.
“The current trends. Looking like prepubescent girls. No hips, bald vaginas, everything so… sterile.” She speaks with a bluntness that winds him, if he’s being honest, her expression schooled, and maybe a little disillusioned, brow pinched and mouth pulling down in a grimace. 
“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.” 
“Yeah, well, you have a cock. Makes things a little simpler, doesn’t it?” 
“Jesus Christ, do you always talk like this?” He says it just a little too loud, a little too breathless, heads turning in the gallery around them, and he thinks he might regret even trying with this girl. Should’ve stuck with the tried and true, that blonde girl that wears sticky sweet lip gloss and smiles at him from across the room during lectures. But this girl, with her arched brow and her twitching smile and the dark flicker of nail polish when she smooths the throat of her scarf. This girl has his number, and not in the way he’d like her to.
“What do you prefer, Steve? Do you like a girl with a smooth shave?” 
“Well I think that, um, a woman’s body is her own choice.” And it has to be the dumbest string of words he’s ever said, breathed out on two static exhales, a garbled parroting of what he’s learned in these classes, right? Well, sort of. 
“How progressive of you.” 
“But the painting is really, you know, it’s, um, it feels warm?” Not sure where that came from, another fresh flood of heat rising and buoying up into his cheeks. Though her expression seems to soften, her smirk falling into something lighter. Maybe, maybe, he got one right. 
“Yeah, I think I get what you mean. There’s a softness to it that’s beautiful, don’t you think?” 
“Mmhmm.”
“But also a strength, a frankness to it.”
“Yes, yeah.” That sick swirl of shame but not shame is receding, and only leaving a nice sort of haze in its place, his head lolling a little, eyes raking over the painting, the catch of light, the soft rounding of a body at rest, slumped and plush and kind of perfect, he thinks. Although he’s pretty sure Andy would correct him for perfect, perfect not being the point, because perfect is oppressive, right? Right. Fuck perfect, he thinks, this is something better than perfect. And maybe she is too. 
“Steve?” Her hand on his arm, purple nail polish and a close-lipped smile snapping him back into his body, hmm? And her smile spreads, and the warmth does too, and she’s saying something about the prof calling them back together and he’s mmhmm-ing on the heels of her brown leather boots. And she sits next to him when they get back on the bus, Robin giving him a stink eye that breezes right over the top of his head as she passes down the aisle because he’s a little busy trying to take discreet inhales through his nose of whatever perfume Andy wears, spice and strong and warm, that same warm. 
And it isn’t his number that gets jotted onto her palm, but her address that she scrawls onto the soft inside of his wrist, right over the catch and jump of his pulse, because she has invited him over for a drink tonight to continue our conversation from earlier. 
Robin doesn’t even have a chance to snit at him for leaving her stranded to the back of the bus because he’s already shuffling her along by the crooked wing of his elbow, hands tucked down deep in his jacket pockets, snow starting to flit and fall from the gray hang of sky. 
“I need your help.”
“You have a date.”
“I’m not sure.”
“It’s a date. She was like, rubbing your wrist. That’s a date.”
“I need your help.”
“Yeah, you do.” 
Because Andy is not light washed denim and polo shirts and two percent milk. He’s seen her in the campus coffee shop, she takes soy, sometimes almond, for the record. So when they get back to their apartment, the smell of electric heat washing over them and curling in their lungs, they don’t go to Steve’s closet, they go to Robin’s. 
Robin’s first pull is a turtleneck. He scoffs.
“What? Turtleneck dudes are definitely that chick’s type. Are you kidding me right now?” And when he assures her that he is, in fact, not kidding her right now, Robin starts to rummage again, eventually coming back out with a t-shirt for a band that Steve only knows because he has asked Robin to turn their music down on several occasions. And before he can say anything Robin is please hold-ing him and shouting down the hall for Eddie.
“What?”
“Steve has a date with a cool girl.”
“Cool girl, what cool girl?”
“Soc major, with the boots.”A little flurry of activity, socked feet slipping down the hall and Eddie hanging off the doorframe of his room, Steve not able to get a word in edgewise between their rapid fire volley.
“No, really? Little different for you, man, isn’t it?” 
“I–”
“We need your closet, excuse us.” Robin on the warpath and Eddie grinning big, and Steve somewhere in the middle.
“How’d this happen?”
“She–”
“They were talking about art.” Robin reappearing with a long-sleeved thermal gripped in her other hand, eyebrows waggling. 
“Steven? Our Steven? Talking about art? Well, well, well.”  If he just had time he’d say something back to Eddie about how he got kicked out of the art museum last weekend for making quacking noises every time the security guard took a step, but Robin is already ushering him back down the hall, into his room this time, shoving the bundle of clothes into his chest and slamming the door shut on her way out. 
Eddie is anemic and tends to eat breakfast when the sun is going down, and Robin is Robin, so it’s a tight fit getting the thermal on, followed by the t-shirt. But looking in the mirror, he thinks he likes it, gives an experimental and not at all vain flex of his arms that makes the sleeves of the tshirt roll back up toward the round of his shoulders and yeah, he likes that. And when he steps out of his room, Robin and Eddie already hovering and humming their approval, that warmth starts to build and bloom all over again. 
And the rest is a little hazy from there. Robin offers him two refrigerator-chilled potstickers from last night’s dinner, something about fuel for your evening, Stevening, while Eddie pours himself a bowl of corn pops and prattles about something he learned in his music theory class, dissonance and skipped beats, and Steve can understand the feeling. And then they’re both kicking him out with an all too solemn godspeed, soldier. Eddie even salutes him. 
Andy lives on the opposite side of campus in a cropping of apartments in a building that looks kind of like a castle, old brownstone and wrought iron. She buzzes him up, opens the door in a thin turtleneck and jeans, her head tilting and her lip pouting, just a little.
“Where’d the polo shirt go?” 
“I changed.” Excellent, he thinks, how astute of him. She smiles.
“I can see. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Bikini Kill fan though.” He’s trying to focus on her as she leads him deeper into her apartment, though his eyes still wander. Old wood flooring that’s barely visible underneath the thick swaths of patterned rugs. A crushed velvet, lime green sofa sitting in front of a fireplace that’s packed full with books. The kitchen is tucked into a corner, a little patch of black and white linoleum, old appliances. She’s pouring wine at the counter with her foot pressed into her other calf in a sort of shortened tree pose, and she’s asking him if he likes red, and he nods, all the while thinking to himself that he hasn’t consumed enough wine that doesn’t come in boxes to really care what color it is. 
They sit down on the lime green sofa, her arm draped over the back of it, fingers tipped toward him. And he’s trying not to be such a dweeb about it, really, he’s not, but it only takes a few bashful glances to know that she very much is not wearing a bra. And he likes that, likes that a lot. Likes the soft curve and fold of her stomach with the way she’s turned toward him, the stretch of her jeans at her hips, her thighs, and his mouth goes dry around a gulp of wine when he starts to think about that painting again, and he starts to think about her, and he starts to think about her and the painting together. He starts to wonder, to wonder, to wonder what similarities he might find between the two. 
There’s conversation, quiet and meandering and murmuring, their mouths staining dark and rosy from the wine, bodies turning warm and pliant and inching closer, closer, closer. And it all starts to melt, empty glasses set aside and her hand slipping into the back of his hair and she’s going to be the one in control, isn’t she? Fine by him, lax and languid in her hands, letting her tilt his face toward her. The first kiss is surprisingly sweet, just a peck to the corner of his mouth that makes him breathe hard through his nose in a petty huff of anticipation. She grins, lets the next one take its time, a little deeper, a little more heat, open mouth against open mouth, and he groans when her tongue slips behind his teeth. 
This would be enough, he thinks. This time, at least. Her settling into his lap, little pants of breath between the wet snap of lips and spit and tongues. His hands squeeze at her thighs, coaxing a skittering sound from her throat when he reaches back and cups her ass, fingers splayed and pressing petulant. He’s going to feel her fingers in his scalp for a few days, the little hurts, little pulls. The next time she pulls away she presses her hand into his chest to keep him at bay, even as he tilts his chin up, feeling young in his eagerness as she smiles wide-eyed at him.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” Both of them whispering, and when they both realize they don’t know why they’re whispering, both of them giggling, getting away with something when she pulls him up off the couch and into her bedroom. 
“Why is this shirt so tight?” She huffs it out with the tshirt halfway rucked up his torso, his hair falling in his face as he curls over trying to help her get it off, both of them breathing out a laugh when the fabric finally is up and over and off of him.
“Oh baby, your hair.” He likes baby, baby feels good, feels like another warm bloom in his chest, his smile turning sheepish when she reaches both hands into his hair, shaking it out at the roots before smoothing it back for him. He chases after her hand, manages to press a kiss to her palm before she’s reaching for the hem of his, Eddie’s, thermal. It comes off easier, quieter, her eyes softening as she takes in his bare chest, catching him off guard when she ducks her head down to press a kiss to the dip that connects the lines of his collar bone, there and gone, little sweetness, little warmth as she steps back and grins. 
“Do you wanna lay down for me?” Not even a thought, just ligament and muscle moving, some sort of game dancing between their eyes as he settles back on his elbows against the dark fabric of her duvet. He watches the fine flicker of her fingers make deft work of the buttons of her jeans. An absent-minded thing, the heel of his palm pressed to the ache, to the heat. He’s already hard, already smearing warm against the front of his boxers watching her step out of her jeans.
“Oh fuck, honey.” A little pained, the sweet prickle of agony, of being right. A vision somewhere between obscenity and divinity, he thinks, though that would be playing into the madonna-whore complex their professor was lecturing about last week. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care about much of anything except continuing to look at Andy, the soft divot at her waist where her white cotton thong settles against the soft curve of skin, and the dark bloom of curls along the sides of the material where her thighs touch. He was right, and now he’s doomed. 
She smiles, finger hooking in the hem of her shirt and pulling it up just a little, exposing the sweet dip and swell of her stomach, and suddenly he’s not so interested in just laying back any more. Greedy, he feels the slick, desperate curl of it in his gut. Greedy when he shuffles up onto his knees and crawls to the end of the bed. Greedy when his hands curl at the fat of her hips and he pulls her in closer so he can press the open heat of his mouth just above her navel, soft and warm and he wants more of it, of her. She sighs, a long, languid sound that he wants to hear more of, dipping his head down to mouth at the jut of her hip, dampening the fabric slung taut there. 
Limbs tangled with limbs, some of it graceless, awkward, some of it perfect motion. She lays out like a painting, like the painting, for him, her turtleneck curled up around her sternum so he can palm a handful of her breast, settling down between her thighs and wasting no time in dragging his tongue through her cunt. 
She wasn’t wrong about the trends. Hairless bodies, smooth bodies, flinchingly pristine bodies. And that’s fine, he thinks, been with plenty of bodies like that, made his body like that for a while too. But he likes this, likes her, the sense and sate of it, the scent of it, even if it makes him a pervert, lapping at her while he curls two fingers inside her. And somewhere in the simpering sear of it, his hips have started to jerk and stutter into the mattress beneath him, picking up a stilted speed when she starts to moan, clipped sounds and his name and he wants it and he wants it and he wants it so bad. She comes with a long sigh that cracks high into a whine, her thighs tensing and slackening around his face. And he feels a warmth of his own, relief of his own, though the reality of what he did turns him sheepish, pressing a bashful smile into the swell of her inner thigh. 
“Did you?” Her words crackle breathless with her grin, peering down at him from behind her forearm and he can barely look at her, turning his face back into her skin, letting his teeth graze there a little mean.
“Maybe, shut up.” Her laugh bursts and bubbles up, her head tossed back, eyes crinkled shut as he crawls up and up and up, not evening minding the uncomfortable cooling in his jeans when he presses a sloppy kiss to her mouth, turning her laugh into a satisfied hum. 
“Hmm, kinda feminist of you coming in your jeans just from eating me out.” Speechless, and he kind of likes it, huffing out a breathless laugh as he watches the cartoonish jump of her eyebrows. He presses a kiss between them, sweet and simple, warm all over when he pulls back to find her smiling at him.
“I like you, a lot.” That whispering thing again, a little shy, a little young, and a little uncertain. But there’s no need for it, not when she tilts her chin up and presses a kiss to his cheek, the round of it, the warmth of it.
“I like you too, Steve.”
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reds-writings · 3 months
Text
sunday kind of love
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(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)
a/n: finally a bit of pure fun and fluff! this kinda applies to the jealousy, jealousy universe but it can totally be read as a standalone! requests are open so hit my inbox if you so choose! enjoy!
word count: 1.3k ish (a lil treat)
warnings: light cursing but not much else! the ending felt kinda weak so i apologize for that lol (minors begone!)
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“Y’know…today is supposed to be one of rest…given that it’s a Sunday n’ all. Just in case you might’ve forgotten.” You remarked in your half-drowsy state, your porch swing swaying idly as you lay draped across it like some lazy house cat. 
The day had you hotter than a sinner in church. The sun sat high and bright in the sky, certainly having no mercy on all the melting folk of Louisiana. Even the breeze that had the old wind chimes you’d hung up ages ago tinkling idly in its gusts was relentless in temperature, offering no aid to your sickeningly sticky skin. With the way you’d been running the AC and numerous plugged-in fans in your house over the past few days, you were sure to rack up one nasty-looking electric bill in due time. Even with all that operating nearly 24/7 it hadn’t made much of a difference in the old rickety house. You’d give just about anything right now if it meant not being so grossly miserable and sweaty in all the worst places. 
The only reason you weren’t inside the slightly cooler haven that was your home was because of a certain pigheaded man who decided today would be the day he busied himself with fixing up your lawn. How ridiculous. One offhand mention of the front yard being a little unruly and your flowers looking a bit lackluster had Rust up and working as if you were Pavlov and he the infamous dog. There was no fighting him when he set his mind on something so you assigned yourself the role of making sure he didn’t drop dead from heat exhaustion like a fool. 
“I’m serious, Rustin. We should head on inside. Ain’t no need to get all of this done today.” You called out again, tipping your head to the side and looking over your sunglasses to see that he had now moved on from getting all the lawn clippings into a trash bag to planting some new flowers he claimed would thrive during the season. The way the muscles under the tan skin of his arms moved and the look of utter focus painted on his handsome features had you smiling something horrendously lovesick. Despite his bullish nature, you knew this was just one of his many underlying ways of showing that he cared for you. Loved you even. You could say that now after certain admissions had been made some nights ago and you found yourself no less giddy after the fact as you thought on it what had to be a million times over at this point. 
Some Linda Rondstat tune played from the old radio that sat propped up on the porch’s railing, causing your bare feet to tap in tandem with the country star’s divine voice. Rust continued to work in silence as you started humming, sitting up to then swing your legs off the bench’s edge. 
You flipped your sunglasses to lay stationary at the top of your head, “I’m feelin’ awfully neglected right now, darlin’.”
That had him finally snorting, “I’m sure you’ll live.” 
“You don’t know that. If I were to keel over right this minute cause a certain cowboy won’t give me the time of day, I bet you there’d be some sorta scientific explanation behind it and it’d have you feelin’ just awful. Gutted even, I’m tellin’ you.” You wagged a finger at him as you went on your theatrical tangent. You saw him shaking his head, continuing to work as if that could hide his growing smile from you. 
“You find this funny but I’m bein’ dead serious. I’ve got one of the most handsomest men in Louisiana on my lawn and he’s too busy diggin’ holes in my garden. Those flowers are gettin’ more felt up than your poor girl over here and that don’t sit quite right with me-”
“Quit it, woman.” He cut in with feigned exasperation though you knew such outward declarations of flirting made by you had him more than a bit flustered. You could live out this whole scene forever if you could. It might’ve been hotter than hell but the landscape was lush and beautiful. The weeping willow taking up a good amount of space on the front of your property danced in the light afternoon wind. The sunlight was hitting everything just right and it had you grateful to call this all yours. The man opposing you only added to the fuzzy feeling dancing in your veins. Snapping out of your sappy thoughts of admiration you saw Rust finally get up from his position and make way towards the garden hose.
You huffed out a dramatic sigh as you forced yourself up and made your way down the weathered porch steps. He stood over the new thatch of colorful flora, thumb half over the hose’s nozzle to spray down his hard work of the day. 
“If I quit it then just how else am I supposed to bug you with my affections?”
“I couldn’t tell ya. Shame that is.” He drawled, seemingly amused with feeding into your impatient antics.
Eyes squinting at him, you tried to fight the quirking of your lips as you ambled on over closer to him. 
“You must got some hidden thing for the works of sadism, mister. Leavin’ me hangin’ for hours on end with no-” You nearly shrieked at the sudden cold of the hose’s stream being flicked at you. The offendant stood opposite of you, too smug for your liking as he took in your half-soaked form. The old tank top and denim cutoffs you had on already left little to the imagination prior to his attack, you could only imagine the form of indecency you found yourself in now. 
“Oh, that’s it. C’mere you little- HEY!” You screeched as the cold spray hit you again. The momentum with which you charged at him had water flying between you both when he got you again. You wrestled each other for the hose, causing more than enough of a mess in the process. The joy in your laughter had Rust’s chest squeezing almost painfully. The stretch of his grin felt foreign to him but he couldn’t manage to control himself. 
As you made numerous attempts to jump up and snatch the tubing from his grip you overestimated your step and slipped on the newly muddied grass, causing you both to topple over. Your belly ached from how hard you found yourself laughing. You almost felt like a child again, drenched beyond belief with streaks of mud and grass finding a new home on your body. A few deep rumbles sounded from the depths of Rust’s broad chest as he pushed some of the sopping-wet hair from your face, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world that made sense to him. As if you were all the answers to his universe wrapped up into one person. The intensity had you knocking his chin with your knuckles softly and wiping some water from his face. 
“You’re an ass, y’know that?”
“And you’re one sore loser.” 
“Loser?! I’ll have you know I managed to take your lanky ass down in one fell swoop-” 
You were silenced by the sudden press of his kiss. It was hard to reciprocate as you felt yourself smiling harder but he persisted despite the clumsiness of it all. Moments like these were something you’d never take for granted. Any chance to see the man in front of you free of all of his persistent burdens, even if just for a moment, were times you could hold on to forever. You felt nothing short of lucky that he let you in. That you were able to cross paths and choose each other in this life. 
You had a feeling there were probably other lifetimes in which you danced this similar dance as different people or different beings. Destined to always find your way back to each other come hell or high water.  Damn. Rust's daily cosmic ramblings and otherworldy mumbo jumbo were starting to really get to you.
Though you couldn't help but wonder if he happened to feel it too.
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a/n: late night post but we love silliness and laughter! as always feedback is greatly appreciated! hopefully, this wasn't too ooc!
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monstrousmuse · 3 months
Text
I am not sure if anyone here has already made this connection or pointed this out (apologies if so), but while doing some research into Flatland/the 11 dimensions the other day, I discovered something pretty interesting…
In the ‘Book of Bill’ announcement video, as well as distorted, synthesised background music and the Morse Code (which has already been deciphered), we can also hear several lines of spoken dialogue, the first of which being the line: “some other mystic dimension”.
Timestamp: 0:04
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Now, this line already raises several questions - which ‘dimension’ is being referring to here? And why is it considered to be ‘mystic(al)’? Well, we don’t have a definite answer to either of those questions just yet, but if you will humour me for a moment, I have a few suggestions. Either this ‘other mystic dimension’ could be referring to Bill’s own homeland, the Second Dimension (which would naturally be considered ‘other’, ‘mystic’ and generally unfamiliar to us, the readers), or perhaps, it is referring to the Third Dimension itself, or what is known as Spaceland (Height/Up) in Abbott’s novella. I think the latter to be far more likely, especially with what I am about to show you. This is where my excessive YouTube deep-diving habits came in useful.
During my research quest, I stumbled upon this video of the famous astronomer and science communicator Carl Sagan (take note of this name) explaining the concept of the Fourth Dimension, as well as other Flatland-adjacent things. And lo and behold, at 4:37, what do we hear?
youtube
“And the poor Square has to say: ‘Well, I was in some other mystic dimension called Up…”
Yes, that’s right. The exact words that were used in the promo video.
To provide you some context, here Sagan is recounting the experience of A Square who, with the guidance and revelations of A Sphere, has just returned from a recent foray into the Third Dimension, and is trying to explain his sudden disappearance and newfound knowledge of Height to his friends. So saying, it is likely that the ‘other mystic dimension’ being referred to in the BoB video is in fact, the Third Dimension, since this is a book that has been written from Bill’s perspective, and it seems that he will be filling in the role of A Square in this narrative, discovering the Secrets Of The Universe and all. Although, I must emphasise that this is still just speculation on my part, based on the assumption that Bill’s backstory will be pretty similar to, if not a direct retelling of Flatland:
“Flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams.”
Who knows, Alex Hirsch may just subvert our expectations entirely.
“I liberated my dimension (…)” / “Saw his own dimension burn. Misses home and can’t return.”
Anyway, I have another little piece of the puzzle to share. The line spoken in the announcement video isn’t merely a word-for-word recreation of what Carl Sagan said, It is Carl Sagan. They used a direct clip from an episode of Cosmos. This has me giddy with excitement, because Carl Sagan, a man with much notoriety within the scientific community, and many achievements and accolades to his name, is known to be one of Ford’s scientific idols.
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The level of detail in this show, and I guess now in its extended literary canon’s advertisement material, is insane. Do with this information what you will. Perhaps there’s a connection here that will be expounded upon in the book. Perhaps it’s just a cool reference. Even so, it is a very intriguing one nonetheless, especially with the tie-ins to Flatland, theoretical physics and Ford’s hero-worshipping. It’s clearly intentional.
(If anyone is interested, here is an excellent meta which provides a very detailed exploration and analysis of Ford’s respective connections to Sagan and Tesla.)
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theapangea · 11 months
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could you do some angst ending in fluff with lip gallagher? like a fight or something maybe?? up to you!
thank you for the request lovely!! this is just a short, slice of life type story but I do have another story in my head that will have to be a series because it's a whole cans of worms - lots of angst and fluff!
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Late Payment
Lip Gallagher x reader
Summary: You and Lip get in a fight about money.
Warnings: Fighting, being poor
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If you were being completely honest with yourself right now, being poor sucked. 
Having to constantly be counting dollars and coins, clipping coupons, filling up almost-empty soap bottles, skipping out of so many other luxuries that your friends have sends a burning sensation under your skin. You are tired and worn and, above all, over the stupid system itself that got you into this mess. 
Mouthing the amount of bills you are counting in your hands as Lip walks into the kitchen, tossing a couple of twenties onto the counter in front of you. Snatching them to count them towards the final amount.
“243,” You whisper, “Fuck.” You slam the money onto the counter, the bills scattering across the late notice forms, hands wiping across your face as the stress builds. “We’re still short.” You look towards Lip who has opened a bottle of beer and taken a seat at the head of the table.
Taking a quick sip of the cold liquid before responses, “We’ll get more.”
Lip’s voice is low, his demeanor is slumped into the seat as his gaze is fixed towards something in the living room. It annoyed you to no end how much it felt like he didn’t care that you didn’t have enough money for the bills. 
“Not in time.” You smack the lid back on the jar to grab his attention, your voice increasing an octave as it reverberates through the room.
“Then what do you want me to do!” He scoffs, the glass beer bottle hitting against the wood hard. 
Your hands speaking with you, “Do you really think I’m exclusively asking you, like you are the only person in this fucking house that somehow makes all the money?” Ranting as the hot, white fumes leak from your body.
“I make most of it.” He continues to argue.
But all you can do is laugh at Lip’s comment. Barely able to fathom the audacity of the man that is sitting in front of you. Acting as if he is the sole provider of the flock.
“And I thank you for that every single day.” You explain, enunciating every word, “But don’t for a second act like I’m not doing my fair share. Cleaning the house, helping with your family, keeping track of the bills.” Listing on your fingers.
“Fuck Y/N,” Lip curses, “No one asked you too!” 
The anger in his eyes is growing, the red hues surfacing under his skin. 
Hand wiping over your face as you take a moment to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to fight with Lip, how would that help your current situation? Walking around the counter to take a seat next to him at the table. Lip’s eyes adverting yours, you can quickly see the anger dissipate as the sadness washes over him.
“I know it’s tough.” Your voice is softer this time, placing a hand over his. “But we have each other and that’s all I care about.”
A smirk tickles the corners of his mouth as your kind words send a calmness over his body. “Yeah?” He questions, eyebrows rise as he finally makes eye contact with you.
A bright smile beams from you, “I couldn’t imagine being broke ass poor anywhere else.”
Your combined laugh fills the small space until Lip just stares at you, “I fall more in love with you every day.”
“Good.” You say as Lip leans forward, his rough hands on your cheeks as his lips graze against yours. His plump lips are sweet and gentle as they crashing into you. Feeling light headed as all you troubles seem to disappear.
~~~
Did you like it?? Let me know what you think ! <3
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justjams2003 · 5 months
Text
Fast Pace- 8
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis
Word count: 3,2k
Masterlist
Part 7~Part 9 (coming soon)
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He likely doesn’t even realise you’re awake. Not that you mind, after all, he’d just gotten out from the shower. His finely cut muscles, like the David statue, has water running down from the top of his broad shoulders all the way down to his v-line. That towel hangs incredibly low and every time he moves it threatens to fall.  
He stands in front of the closet, trying to decide what to wear. “Are you enjoying the show?” His voice is rough, you can see his eyes slide over to you, and a huge blush coats your cheeks. On instinct you pull the covers up to hide your face. He tsks and walks over to you, and lightly pulls down the sheets. “Didn’t I tell you not to hide your face from me?”  
You giggle, “You look quite handsome for an old man.” He groans and rolls his eyes. “¿Qué voy a hacer contigo?” You hum as a reply, “I like it when you talk Spanish to me.” You use his own words against him. He shakes his and grabs some clothes from the closet. “Go get ready, dormilona.”  
You sigh and push the sheets to the side. “Why, anything particular planned for today?” You ask watching each reaction. “Oh yeah, you have big plans for today. Me? I have nothing but boring meetings and practising.” He shrugs, pulling the shirt over his head. “Poor thing, are you sure I can’t company you?” You ask, holding out your hand for him to take, still sitting like a princess on the bed.  
He does just that, gently caressing your knuckles. “No, mi niña bonita. You’re in Italy, I want you to enjoy it. Plus, I have a surprise for you.” He winks, shooing you out the bed only for you to return soon after wearing a matching set. Light white linen, short button up top and short skirt with a comfortable pair of flats. Of course, with your new Prada bag close by.  
“Wow, wow, wow, don’t you look beautiful?” He says, taking your hand and allowing you to spin, before he slowly places kisses all the way up your arm to your shoulder. Your hair is pulled up with the claw clip he got you, leaving clear space for his lips to find a home there. “Deberías ser adorado. Debería haber santuarios y estatuas en tu nombre. Me aseguraré de que seas un Sainz, para que los que me aman, te amen aún más.” 
You furrow your brows, “You speak words that I cannot understand but your eyes say so much more than your mouth ever will.” It’s true, he looks to be madly in love, obsessed even. His eyes fall on your frame as if he is seeing a god for the first time. His eyes go from chocolate brown to that of a pitch-black night. Stars in his eyes.  
“You will understand, soon enough,” he winks and then asks, “Do you have everything?” You smile and nod, opening your back only to see your phone and some lip-gloss. Your wallet is their too, but inside is only your ID, your driver's licence and a credit card you haven’t used in two weeks now.  
“Good.” Then he takes your hand in his and to you, you’re only thinking you’re going for a walk, for breakfast. Yet, when you exit the hotel, you can see just what Carlos meant when he said the Ferrari fans go big. They’re surrounding the hotel, there were fans yesterday too, but you can only assume the closer it gets to the weekend the more there will be.  
“Keep your head down.” He says, pulling out his sunglasses and in one smooth move puts them on. He seems like someone else entirely. His demeanour is different. His hand is wrapped around your waist, his grip firm and even tight. His jaw is locked tight, and his whole personality is so much suaver.  
It does something to you, the way he takes control. Guides you through the crowd, still waving and giving attention to the fans but at the same time he is untouchable. And now, you are too. Cameras are flashing and people are screaming his name...and yours too. It sends a thrill down your spine and instead of keeping your head low like he said, you keep your head high.  
Carlos guides you into the car, and still careful of the people, he drives off. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. A bright smile is smeared on your face. “What are you smiling about, chica guapa?” He asks, his hands smooth on the gear box. The way he sits back on the chair is something you could watch forever and ever.  
“That was so cool, you were so cool, I felt so cool. Appelez cela un rêve appelé vrai.” You sigh, stabilizing your beating heart by fixing your hair. “You enjoy that?” His dark brows knot and you nod with a bright smile. “Don’t you?” This is part of his job; doesn't he love his job?  
He shakes his head, “I really do appreciate the fans but sometimes eh…” You can't help but let your mouth hang open in shock. He raises his brow at you. “Carlos. Those people out there make your career. You're the only way that they might ever get a taste of the life. They live through you. I find it thrilling,” you explain, and it does seem to have made an impact on him.  
“Like, back home, idols are an escape from reality. Seeing these people on, living the life you can only dream of, makes you hopeful that maybe someday you could be them. It might never happen for some, but even then, it helps you get out of the bed in the morning.” Like always he’s hanging onto your every word.  
He pulls up to a really fancy looking car shop. Luxury vehicles you can only ever dream of displayed in all sorts of ways. The people who work here greet you both with utmost respect, they too look for anything they can do for you. You can't help but look around, taking in the beauty of some of these cars. Hand crafted leather seats expertly painted and worked on for years.  
“You like?” Carlos asks, his hand falling on the curve of your waist. You noticed it instantly, after last night his touches have become more frequent. Not that you mind, in fact each time he places a kiss on your shoulder, or grabs your hand, you can feel the lightning course through you. The power of a thousand horses making their way through your stomach.  
“My dad would go crazy.” You mutter, thinking of all the times your father would call out the exact name and model of a car as you passed. “But do you like it?” Carlos' brows furrow, you can see he worries and can tell he was excited to show you. “Of course, it just feels so crazy. I never thought in a million years I could ever even be this close to the cars I see on my feed all the time.” You mutter, your hand on his chest as you take it all in.  
He smirks, “Pick one.” His words are so simple and easy. You'd think he's asking you to say if you wanted chicken or beef. “Pick one?” The words fall from your mouth and feel like a thousand butterflies on your tongue. He nods, “Any one, I'll rent it for the day or even the whole week if you wanted.” He shrugs, also gazing at all the magnificent cars.  
He lets go, allowing to roam and decide which one. Then you spot it, in the very back of the show room. You don't know the name, the model or anything important. You just know, this is the one. “Ahh, yes, the Ferrari R8 Spider.” The front man begins speaking, listing off all the special features but you're not listening. All you see are hearts and stars.  
“This one?” You can call out his deep voice and accent out of a million voices. “Yes, I don't need to see any other one.” You beam up at him and you can see he too is excited about it. “Should've known you'd always find the Ferrari,” you nod, appreciating each and every grove of the car.  
While the people set up all the paperwork, Carlos pulls you to the side. He pulls out his wallet and then hands you his Black Amex card. “What's this?” You ask him, holding the card gently as if you're cradling a baby. “You've never seen one before?” He asks, his brows pulled together but still teasing. “I want you to go to Milan and shop your heart out. No limit.” He sends you a wink and you feel your knees grow weak.  
“You can't be serious.” The words are like lead on your tongue. What on earth is he doing? “Of course, why would I joke?” He's dead serious. Carlos is dead serious about this. “No limit?” You ask one more time just to make sure you didn't hear wrong. “There are two conditions.” You nod, not even caring if he says you have to go down on your knees.  
“Otis and Brutis stay with you at all times.” He then points his thumb to the two massive bodyguards waiting just outside the shop. A whine escapes your mouth, and you push out your bottom lip more than ever before. “No, they're such a drag.” You whine, grabbing onto his polo shirt. “They will follow you, wherever you go.” His voice is stern but still you fight.  
You know that it's for your safety, but you can't help but feel like a criminal. Someone who should be watched at all times, like you're being babysat. A thought plays in your mind, the perfect way to get him to change his mind. “Daddy, please don't make me take those oafs with.” You give him your best puppy eyes, the word now feeling much more comfortable on your tongue.  
His reaction is priceless. You can see the internal struggle in his mind. His hand reaches up, gently caressing your lips, you can see he so wants you. “Fuck…” a glimmer of hope, his resolve seems to have cracked. That sure was easy. “No, absolutely none-negotiable. They stay with you at all times.” Perhaps you are a child, because right now you feel like throwing a tantrum.  
“But you said-” he laughs, and interrupts you. “As much as that word coming from you, makes me want to fuck you right here on the display floor, it doesn't mean you automatically get what you want. Manners are good from a cosita dulce like you, but your safety always come first.” No wonder his eyes are stormy like that. You're certain that your panties are as wet as can be and that you're red like a tomato.  
He can tell you're left speechless and continued with his conditions. “Be back before dinner, and I want a fashion show when I get home.” With that, he pulls you close, placing a kiss on your forehead and then proceeds to pay the deposit for the car rental. Leaving you a soaked mess, absolutely hungry for his bones. You will get him back for that. 
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Us Weekly: 
“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend and his girlfriend spotted outside the Hotel de la Villa.”  
Glamour: 
“Carlos Sainz’ girlfriend spotted driving a Ferrari in Milan.”  
Mirror:  
“Y/N Y/S/N spotted spending big in Milan.”  
30 000 Dollars. The excitement to see her in that 30 000 made me rock hard all day. Some of them she posted on her story, which I keep track of religiously. But I know for a fact that that couldn’t be all of it. I saw the news articles; it gave me a great sense of pride seeing them finally call her by her name and not just as my girl.  
I made sure to make is home as quick as possibly, though, I don’t find her in her room or even mine. That is until, I ask the guards.  
The sight is truly delicious. It makes me disgusted by the pure amount of clothes I’m wearing, or the fact that these two idiots even dare look or be around her. Her arms are hanging lazily onto the side of the hot tub, her eyes staring out at the view of Italy. But the bikini she’s wearing should be illegal.  
It’s bright red, with delicate knots holding the thing together. One small tug and it will fall right off. Her body is so soft, her curves fill the bikini perfectly. Her hair in one of the claw clips that I bought her, messy and lazily done. Some of her locks falling out of place, making her neck look so ready to be kissed. Her waist curves and I just want to rip the damn thing off. 
“Leave,” my voice is stern and deeper than I thought it would be. She turns by the sound of my voice, and lightly treads her way to me. A huge looking cocktail in one hand, more than half empty. “Bonjour mon Carlito,” she winks at me, and I groan at her words. Where did she hear that, or is it the alcohol speaking?  
I bend down next to the hot tub. “Hola, mi niña bonita.” Her cheeks go red, “How many of these have you had?” I ask, referring to the mixed cocktail. She shrugs, “This is the first, but the night is still young.” I tsk and shake my head. “You know the deal, niña pequeña,” she whines and pushes out her bottom lip.  
I tsk and shake my head. “In any case, you have to show me what you got.” My finger gently caresses her cheek. After the night that she joined me in the bed, everything changes. Clearly, she is ready for more. Ready for the next step, even just a small one. More touches, more kisses on her cheek or her neck. Perhaps even a week or two from now, a kiss on the lips.  
Again, she pouts. My fingers find that bottom lip of her, if I kiss her now, there will be no wait. “Daddy, please come join me.” How on earth could I ever say no to eyes like that. That beg and plead and want. Those eyes that I could never in a million years say no to. I gently place a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll go change.” A wide smile covers her lips and her eyes sparkle.  
I’m quick, not even 5 minutes. The bubbles are a nice temperature, no hotter than the weather but no colder than 26 degrees Celsius. My hands instantly find her waist, she’s gazing at the view again. You can see the towns and people and far away mountains and farmlands. I don’t care about any of that.  
All I can think about is the feeling of her waist under my hand. Her back against my chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath. The sweet, sweet smell of her. Sickly sweet ripe berries, hot honey on the tongue and home. She’d be such a good mother, if she and I... then she’d never be able to leave me.  
“What are you thinking about?” Her voice is like angels in my ears. I tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, mostly just to feel her down-like skin. “You, I’m always thinking about you.” Her cheeks are pink but still a smirk is on her face. “You get this faraway look, somewhere special where I can’t possibly be.”  
I can only shake my head at her conclusion. “No, mi amor, you are my special place.” She giggles, the sound of fairies being born. “I’ve seen the interviews, years before we met you still have the same other dimension look.” She looks to chuff with herself. “That’s because I’ve been dreaming of someone like you since forever.”  
She laughs out loud, her head falling back and her drink almost tipping over. “You’re smooth, Mr Sainz.” Her words are music to my ears. The urge to kiss her is so strong. Instead, I make do with the sweet spot on her collarbone. “They do call me the smooth operator.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”  
“How can’t I be, with such a beautiful lady sharing a hot tub with me. In the tiniest bikini might I add.” She hums and then does a slight turn, the water gracefully spinning around her. “You like?” Do I like? “Fucking hell, chica bebé, I’m struggling to keep my hands off of you.” Then her eyes turn to that of a siren.  
“Why do you keep your hands to yourself?” Her tone is begging, a slight whimper in her voice. She might have had only one drink, but her tolerance must be low. Then her hands begin to roam my body. Her touch is like fire, lighting on my body and my loins ablaze. A groan leaves my mouth, the self-control is unbearable when her big doe eyes go sultry like that.  
Her hands make delicate contact with my stomach, pushing her chest against mine. She looks up at me through her lashes, a temptress that should be locked up. “Why won’t you touch me?” She takes my hand, so small in comparison and places it on her ass. “Why won’t you kiss me?” She lifts her chin, her lips mere millimetres from mine.  
“Fucking hell, chica bebé, you are my weakness. Do not think for a moment that I don’t want to bury my cock deep into that warm cunt of yours. If I had it my way, I’d have you right here, right now. You’d never even leave the bed and be covered in marks of my making.” My words cause a whimper to leave her mouth, needy and wanting more than ever.  
“Then why deny yourself?” Now it’s my turn, I use both my hands and shove her up against the wall. My knees press up against the little amount of fabric that hides that sweet pussy of hers. My head right down against her ear. Kissing and nipping. Leaving purple marks against her neck. Fuck, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that until much later.  
I just can’t control myself when her legs wrap around my waist, the water splashes over the edge. Her arms pull me closer. “Because I like seeing you beg. I like hearing your pitiful whines as you beg me to fuck you, like the whore we both know you are. I’ve already given you so much and yet you still want more.”  
Her tender finger pull on my hair, now her lips are by my ear. “Please, daddy, please just use me already.” A deep chuckle escapes me. “See? So needy. But you see, mi pequeño, I can’t give you everything you want all at once. It’ll leave you ungrateful. And I don’t tolerate brats. I’m going to leave you wanting and needy. I’ll make the tension so much you’ll want me just as much as I need you.”  
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My taglist is open, just ask!
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Could we have octoville reaction to octo merchild misbehaving like attempting to beat them up , trying to escape, thrashing in their arms , and even biting , and even cussing them out and giving the middle finger
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Yandere Octorio x Octo Mer Child reader
Children get fussy that’s just a known fact. Even the cruelest and most coldhearted know that children are slaves to their unhinged emotions which can be kicked off by the absence of a nap, not being given their dinosaur nuggies, or not getting to play longer. But only the best guardians know how to handle these kinds of behavior at the very least eliminate the ones that cause it:
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Azul Ashengrotto 
More than anyone Azul has the greatest authority over you so he claims
You are the mini to his mega octopus status
So when he says your going back to your tank 
Your going back to your tank
“Nooooo!”
“Let him go, (Y/n). It’s time to go!”
“Noooooo!”
He didn’t mind that you were getting cozy in Scarabia 
It meant getting to keep an eye on Jamil
Kalim was perfect for keeping up with your energy 
But Azul notices how your skin gets dry or how sluggish you are returning 
You’re not just tired…you’re drying out 
On a deeper level, Jade’s discovered that your hybrid status has you needing things a mini octopus needs
You have an extremely thin phlegm that keeps you from drying out
And drinking water is part of it 
But with heat like Scarabia’s its best if you spend at least two hours in some actual water 
Letting the water give you oxygen through your skin
But for whatever reason, you don’t want to do that
Annoyed with how much time is taken away with putting on and taking off the bathing suit 
And the way Jamil demands you sit on the scratchy towels so you don’t make everywhere wet
“Nooooooo! Rgh! Noooo!”
With Kalim’s push, you’ll leave Scarabia 
But when you return to Octavinelle Azul gives you some guidelines about going 
And when you refuse he thinks aloud about not letting you go at all
he's mostly joking maybe not
And that sets you off
In the middle of the Monstro lounge your flailing, crying causing a huge scene
And like a struggling single mom that’s just trying to wrangle her kid, He’s straining as he pulls you into his office
Away from the invasive stares and curious looks of patrons
When he’s in there he pushes you in your mini tank clipping on the hole-filled top 
Which doesn’t move at all despite your little tentacles pulling and banging on the glass
He’ll start working on contracts, counting bills, studying all while ignoring your little tantrum
He waits until it stops, sleeping in your little hidey-hole
Then He cries 
Reduced to his baby octopus days he tries to remind himself that his baby just doesn’t want to listen
Not that you really hate him for stopping you from hanging out with someone more fun than him
All the parenting books couldn’t prepare him for this 
But when you awake still willing to wrap your little tentacles around his fingers he gains confidence again
“(Y/n)...how about we make a little contract, okay? Just something promising me you’ll always come back, okay?”
“Mmmm okay.”
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Jade Leech
“(Y/n) did you hear me? I said you can’t eat these. (Y/n)? Look at me, do you understand?”
You were being a little toad
Pouting and turning away after Jade didn’t let you eat one of the mushrooms he was dissecting
Some may say that previously working on edible mushrooms and giving one to you every other time may have conditioned you to expect it but whatever
You’ve squatted down low and plopped on the cold floor of his club room
Refusing to look at him with your little noises of refusal
He doesn’t mind being ignored…he knows you’ll forget anyway
But what he does have a problem with is when he turns away you’re reaching your tubby hand into his work station
He snatches your little hand using this closeness to grill it into you to listen
“(Y/n). Look at me.”
“Mmmm!”
“(Y/n).”
“Mmm!” 
“Fine, then you're going to your tank.”
“Noooooo!”
“Yes.”
He’s dragging you or rather carrying you to your tank 
And as he shut whoever’s door to put you away he hears something mumbled under your breath that sets him off
“-old fish. S-upid klunt!” 
“...What did you just say?”
He turns his head like those dolls in horror movies
He gets that you were trying to say something else and he will hunt down who you got that from later but for now he’s bringing the hammer down
No one knows what happens when you're being particularly naughty
The best equivalent for what happens is that he commits to emotionally spanking you
a single look portrays that you're in for it
Talking you down until your begging for forgiveness while you nuzzle against his pant leg
He becomes that parent that you know to behave around
And its Azul who uses the most
“I’m going to tell Jade when he gets home!”
“No no! I sorry! No, please don’t tell!”
But in the end Jade is always willing to forgive you
Always willing to genuinely smile as you tearfully apologize before even being reprimanded
“Aww that’s my good octopus, I’m not angry no no no…I was just disappointed…but you did so well to apologize, good job.”
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Floyd Leech
“Eh?! Octobaby hasn’t had their nap yet? Ohhh so that’s why you're so snippy!”
He’s down to play with you but he knows it’s a nightmare when your hungry or tired
He knows right now you need a nap
Even if he has to force you to take one
Now Jade says he can’t strangle you to sleep because you're just too fragile
So he just has to lock you in your tank, play your music, and make sure no one interrupts
That’s who he’s allowed to strangle
Even when you’re biting and thrashing in his hold 
To be honest he hardly notices 
Until your little pincers actually prick him some
“Did you just…bite me…?”
“...n-no..”
“Yes, you did.”
“I-i sorry. I sorry!” 
His silence speaks loudest
He’s angry
It just won’t be at you
He’s oddly nurturing putting you to sleep 
Then he’s raging at everyone who gets in his way 
“Who. The. Heck. Made them miss their nap?!”
He’s not letting anyone hurt you let alone ruin your schedule
There is a schedule for how they take care of you
He actually is really vigilant about it
So he is livid when others come and mess with that
“Octobaby bit me today…”
“Oh did you reprimand them?”
“Nope did it themselves! Besides it was the cutest little prick, if they weren’t acting out I’d want them to do it again!”
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divorcedfiddleford · 20 days
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You made a post saying “it has been zero days since our last alex hirsch hates ford so much bullshit” and i know it was mostly hyperbole, but you have some really good takes that I would love to be elaborated on in terms of how ford is written
it really wasn't hyperbolic. over the years he's just really shown a lot of hatred towards this one character.
content warning: discussion of abuse
i want to start with this clip from the commentary which i think of as a microcosm for how the writers and especially alex think about ford.
transcript:
rob renzetti: i mean he [mcgucket] should've basically knocked ford out, and... and destroyed the... you know, tied him up, and, destroyed... and... alex hirsch, speaking over him: yeah he should've beat ford with a wrench and taken this thing apart piece by piece! he's the one who understood how to built [sic] it, but...
... so that seems like a pretty violent course of action. shall we unpack that?
ford is a character who's pretty explicitly written as a victim of abuse, and who now has c-ptsd as a direct result of the abuse he experienced. alex hirsch believes that ford deserved everything bad that happened to him, that it's ford's own fault, and that he also deserved worse things to happen to him. this is why, given every narrative chance, alex hirsch has piled more suffering onto ford's plate. the biggest example of this i can think of is in the journal, when he wrote that fiddleford was actively erasing ford's memory (despite this being a massive timeline contradiction which i still refuse to accept). because god forbid ford even have one remotely healthy relationship with somebody. that would be too good for him. ford was manipulated and lied to by bill, but alex repeatedly compares him to icarus, a teenager whose demise was the result of his own ignorance. this comparison is still so fucking offensive to me. the sun did not lie to icarus, did not guarantee icarus all of the happiness and success and sense of belonging which he had been denied all his life, did not actively shut out the voices of those around him who would try to help him.
alex in general has a very strange relationship with abuse. he seems to get really upset when people read his characters as victims of abuse. the strongest instance of this is actually not with ford, it's with pacifica - especially in the nwmm episode commentary. the episode says "pacifica's parents have conditioned her to respond to a bell" and alex says people got "the wrong idea" about it. like. dude. what the fuck. you wrote abuse. even if you didn't mean to, that's what you wrote. you can't say people got "the wrong idea" just because you didn't think about the subtext of what you were writing. anyway, back to ford: i believe this extends to him as well. alex wanted to write a character who's a foil to stan and who was a selfish unlikable victim of his own arrogance. however that's not what he wrote. he somehow seemingly accidentally wrote a really compelling and relatable awesome autistic guy who had to fight for every good thing he he ever had in his life only for it to be taken from him every single time. but alex can't let go of seeing ford as just "the opposite of stan". when he talks about "how someone as smart as ford could fall for bill's tricks", he refuses to realize he wrote a situation in which a man was being psychologically manipulated and tortured.
it goes back further, too. people repeatedly theorized that filbrick was... not a very good father, to say the least. on top of the very explicit and canon fact that he threw one of his children out on the street (seriously, there is no defense for this), people pointed out that stan would flinch at filbrick, that ford seemed upset by things filbrick said but dared not talk back, that filbrick was mad at stan not for hurting his brother, but for "costing the family potential millions". but alex can't have people seeing ford as sympathetic. ford can't have it bad like stan did. ford had to have everything and he lost it all because he sucks so much. so he wrote the graphic novel story where ford is filbrick's favorite child and filbrick also is not even a bad parent you guys he's just stoic. ignore the whole thing in dreamscaperers where stan perpetuates the abuse that filbrick did to him. ignore the fact that ford was shouting at stan and then completely shut up as soon as filbrick entered the room and did not say another word for the rest of the night. ignore all that because i just made up this story where he cries at a present from stan. filbrick loved his boys for sure you guys!!!
i'm not even touching on how alex repeatedly villainizes traits commonly associated with mental illness and neurodivergence. ford's hypervigilance becomes arrogance. his passion for knowledge means he's a know-it-all. his difficulty socializing and making friends means he's a misanthrope. his lingering resentment for the way he was raised means he hates his brother and is the worst human being to ever have lived. i could go on, go even further into how the finale reaffirms this, but i feel weird talking about this too much.
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britany1997 · 1 year
Note
bestie it's the one who swept you off your feet. I'm holding you at gun point with a question.
I read your rules, buuut I dunno if this counts as too specific. can you write the boys (or paul since he's delicious, your pick) with a s/o who likes to take stuff that doesn't belong to them for shits and giggles?
I just thought it'd be hilarious and I love you, mwah 💪🏻❤
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Sticky Fingers
Of course I can write this for you!! I love you too bestie🫶🫶🫶 (you so right he is delicious🥵)
Paul x GN Reader
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
You slithered through the crowd of unwitting tourist lining the boardwalk. Plucking a 20 from an unsuspecting lady’s handbag, slipping a watch off of a disgruntled businessman, too busy yelling into his phone to notice you, unclasping an expensive looking necklace from someone’s neck and clipping it onto your own.
Every night the boardwalk was like your own personal pawn shop, except you never had to pay a dime. You chuckled to yourself as you slipped the 20 into your pocket and skipped off to Max’s video.
You were about to stroll in to lift some lollipops from the jar at the front, when the sight of a blond boy standing next to a motor bike caught your eye. What was the harm in snagging one more wallet?
You sauntered over inconspicuously and reached into the pocket of his pants, but came back empty handed.
He whirled around to face you, “woahhh sugar, that’s usually my move,” he joked.
Your face flushed bright red and your mouth open and shut wordlessly as you tried to think up any kind of excuse.
“I squeeze back you know,” he told you as he slid a hand around your waist, pulling you close to him.
You were flabbergasted. You should have just stolen the candy.
You grabbed his hand as it began to slide lower, “woah, wow, um…this is such a big misunderstanding,” you laughed awkwardly.
He raised an eyebrow at you, “so you weren’t just tryna cop a feel?” he seemed disappointed.
“No! No. Absolutely not,” you assured him.
“Can I still-”
“No.”
He pouted.
“So what were you doing anyway,” he crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly.
In all the confusion, you hadn’t gotten a chance to really look at him, but now with his blue eyes boring into yours, his blond hair framing his face, and his full lips pressed together, you were struck by how handsome he was.
“I was…trying to steal your wallet?” you blurted out.
Damn. This guy was really catching you off guard.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, “I keep all my cash right here,” he slipped his shoe off and held it up to you. You peered in to see a bunch of crumpled, and slightly damp, dollar bills at the bottom.
“That’s disgusting,” you told him.
“Maybe,” he shrugged, “but you’re not gonna take ‘em are you?”
“Definitely not,” you said as your nose wrinkled in disgust.
He tapped his head with his finger, “not as dumb as I look huh?” he wiggled his eyebrows as he slipped his shoe back on.
“C’mon,” he said offering you his hand, “I’ll steal you an ice cream.”
You scoffed, taken aback, “after I just tried to rob you?”
He rolled his eyes, “the only thing you did was graze my ass,” he winked, “I’d still like to return the favor if you change your mind.”
You shook your head.
He chuckled, “I figured, I do still wanna get you ice cream though.”
“Why?” you asked dumbfounded.
“You’re fun and I like you,” he shrugged, “that seems like reason enough for me.”
“Name’s Paul by the way,” he said as he grasped your hand and pulled you along down the boardwalk.
The two of you stopped in front of an ice cream stand. Paul rested his head on your shoulder. “Can I have my rings back please?”
You blushed, fishing the rings out of your pockets and placing them in his hand.
He cleared his throat.
You gave him his bracelet too.
He slipped them back on like nothing had happened before fishing in his shoe for a fiver and handing it to the lady scooping icecream.
She grimaced before drying it off on her shirt and sticking it in the register.
“Thought you were gonna steal me some ice cream,” you raised an eyebrow.
He winked, “you’re worth the money,” he said handing you a cone.
You blushed, “thank you.”
He took your hand and led you to a bench.
As you sat down, he sat directly beside you, throwing an arm over the back of the bench as you were practically crushed into his side.
“Not enough bench for you,” you teased as you gestured to all the empty space.
He smiled, “I’m comfortable where I am,”
You laughed and licked your ice cream as Paul rambled on about his adventures on the boardwalk.
As he spoke you found yourself enjoying his company. He made you smile and laugh in a way no one else could, his carefree joy was contagious.
As the night continued, the crowd on the boardwalk dwindled till only the two of you were left.
Paul reached out to touch your cheek, “you have some ice cream on your lips,” he leaned in closer, “want me to get it for you?”
Your breath caught as you realized what he was asking, but you leaned in anyway, “yeah, go ahead”
He smiled and gently pressed his lips to yours. You felt your heart leap at how sweet he was as his mouth molded against yours.
Your hands tangled themselves in his blond locks as his tongue slid past your lips.
When you head began to feel fuzzy you pulled back for air.
“I may not let you take my jewelry,” Paul began, “but you can steal all the kisses you want sugar,” he winked.
“Was there ever really any ice cream on my lips,” you laughed.
He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m sure there was at one point…”
You smiled as you pressed your lips against his once more.
🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇
Taglist❤️:
@vampirefilmlover @misslavenderlady @pixielostboy @flower-crowned-lady @6lostgirl6 @ghoulgeousimmaculate @its-freaking-bats @cherryfrostbites @dwaynesluscioushair @gothamslostboy @dwayxluvs @feardot-com @warrior-616 @riz-coolgirl @anna1306 @consuming-karma @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @bloodywickedvamp @solobagginses @lostboys1987girl
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t0mkaulitz-luver · 1 month
Note
alcoholic bill fucking u rough after getting drunk w tom💞💞💞
ofc i can bae 😝 ALSO for anyone wondering i know this person IRL and we clarified they meant DRUNK bill not alcoholic 😭
a/n: first post ever pls be kind 🙏😭
WARNINGS: smut, filthy smut. drunk!bill dom!bill sub!reader, rough-ish sex, one slap, overstimulation yeah that’s about it
TOM
BILL
Y/N
Y/N POV:
I’m up late waiting for Bill to get home, he went out with Tom a few hours ago so i’m not very worried, he’s in good hands. The movie is playing in the background but im not really focused, i’ve been waiting for Bill to get home for a few hours now and i’m getting bored. As i’m thinking about all things i would do with Bill if he was here (🤨) my thoughts were interrupted by a phone call, it was Tom.
I answered to hear him yelling into the phone over the sounds of a party, half of it was jumbled and i couldn’t hear it, i could hear Bill shouting my name in the background then Tom telling me he was on his way with Bill. I paused the TV nervously waiting for Tom and Bill to arrive, every time i could hear a car outside i hoped it was them, until it was. Before Tom could even knock on the door i was there opening it, Bill was thrown into my arms, his head falling into the crook of my neck, he reeked of alcohol. “He’s been asking for you all night” Tom sighed. “I could only have a few drinks i was too busy babysitting this one” He rolls his eyes upset over his lack of being shitfaced. “Thank you for taking care of him, he can be such a baby when he’s drunk”. Bill whines in my neck not liking my “insult”. Tom scoffs, “Well i should head home, good luck with him.” I lean in to kiss Tom on the cheek goodbye, “Get home safe and text me when you do”, “Will do, auf wiedersehen schatzi”. I wave him off lifting Bill from my grasp, his eyes are low. He’s definitely drunk.
“Hey baby” he leans in for a kiss, i almost gag at the taste of alcohol on his lips, “Hey my love, why don’t i get you upstairs and showered so you can go to bed, hmm?”, i start walking up the stairs with my arm around his waist trying to keep him steady, “I missed you so much tonight liebe, i couldn’t wait to come home and see you”, he stumbles up one of the stairs “i missed you too baby”. I get him upstairs and lead him to our bedroom, i take him into the connecting bathroom and sit him on the toilet. “Sit right here for me while i get the shower ready. okay?”. “Okay -hiccup- liebe”.
I turn around and turn on the shower waiting for it to get warm, i walk back over to Bill to help him get undressed, i remove all his jewelry putting it to the side, i slide his shirt over his head setting it atop of the laundry basket, then i stand him up and undo his belt, removing his pants and finally boxers, i put them with his shirt. Then i start to undress myself, my top first, un-clipping my bra, then i slide my pants down my legs followed by my panties. I kiss Bill on the cheek leading him to the shower, he grabs my hand to guide himself, be seems more steady on his feet though, i get us all showered and cleaned before wrapping a towel around myself and stepping out.
I walk into our bedroom close the curtains and drop my towel turning on only the bedside lamp, then i feel Bill slide his hands around my waist i can feel his boner pressing against my back. “Not now Bill you’re too drunk and you need to get to sleep” i’m firm with him, although i do wish he could just fuck me right now but i have to be responsible. I turn around to face him, his puppy eyes looking at me begging me to bed him, “No Bill, you’re too intoxicated”, “I promise you i’m not schatzi, the shower helped and seeing your body made me so horny” I debate it in my head for a minute, yes i’m horny, yes he’s horny, but isn’t it wrong when he’s drunk? “Please baby, it hurts” He looks down to his throbbing erection, the pain and begging in his eyes makes me give in.
“Fine, but only because i believe you’re sober enough” “Thank you baby, come to me” I walk over to him, his hands snake around my waist pulling me closer so i feel his hard on pressing against my stomach, he pulls me in for a passionate kiss, his tongue leaping into my mouth as my hands fist his hair, i can taste the alcohol in his mouth. His hand pulls me even close before he breaks our kiss, a string of saliva connecting us before breaking as he moves his head towards my neck. He begins nipping and sucking at my sensitive spot, making me let out a quiet breathy moan. He pulls away with a pop satisfied with the purple mark he’s left on my neck.
His hands travel down to my lower stomach before one of his fingers runs through my folds, slowly rubbing my clit in circular motions, my mouths lets out whimpers as i lay my head forward on his shoulder, leaving open mouthed kisses all over, his hand speeds up and my moans get louder, i start to feel my climax building, he senses this and pulls away, i let out a whine at the loss of contact but it’s cut off as he kisses me once again this time rougher, his teeth clashing with mine, his hands slide under my thighs picking me up and throwing me onto the bed, breaking our kiss.
He starts leaving a trail of kisses all the way down to my area, before licking a stripe up “So sweet schatzi, so wet for me” i let out a whimper of frustration and embarrassment, he comes back up to my face and strokes my cheek, his other hand slowly pumping his dick before slapping the tip against my entrance, “Please Billy, i need you, stop teasing me”. “I thought you were against this? me fucking you like this, i guess not”. He slowly inserts his tip into my sopping hole, before thrusting his length all the way in, i let out a cry of pleasure and pain as he fills me all the way up, “Such a tight, perfect pussy liebe, you were made for me” He begins thrusting into me slowly as we both let out heavy breaths, he begins picking up the pace, making my moans get louder, i can feel his tip perfectly hitting the spongey spot inside of me definetly leaving bruising against my cervix, it makes me want to scream. I bite my lip to muffle my noises receiving a light smack against my face “Don’t hide your screams pretty girl i want to hear you”. Somehow he picks up the pace, drilling into me relentlessly, still hitting that perfect spot inside of me, my moans get louder and louder practically screaming at this point, i can feel my climax building up, “BILL- i’m gonna cummmmmm” My moans disrupting my words. “That’s right schatzi, cum all over my cock”. I came with a loud cry of his name, but he doesn’t slow his pace.
Still pounding into me letting out moans and groans as i tighten around him “T- Too much~ mmmmm~ i can’t take it” tears filling my waterline from the pain and pleasure of overstimulation. “You can take it baby i know you can, just a little longer i’m almost there”. Tears completely clouding my vision beginning to fall down my cheeks as his tip repeatedly ruts into my cervix even after cumming. I can feel another one building up as he gets closer, he can feel me tightening around him sensing my second climax. “Cum with me liebe come on” With only a few more thrusts he cums inside me his sticky ropes coating my insides, i came just after him, he pumps a few more times riding out both our highs.
We stay in silence for a few moments as our breathing returns to normal. He slowly pulls out of me, i hiss at the feeling of being empty, our mixed cum beginning to drip out of my hole. Bill leans over grabbing a few tissues wiping us both up, being careful not to overstimulate me even further, he throws the tissues away and comes to lay next to me, he pulls me onto his chest pushing strands of my hair out of my face before kissing my forehead, “You did so well baby, you want to sleep?”. I can only let out a soft hum as he turns off the bedside light and i drift to sleep on his chest.
a/n: not very proofread so there will probably be mistakes
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msbarrybeeson · 2 years
Text
Don’t | Donnie X Reader
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A/N: This was so lovely to write. In my opinion, Donnie would be the most challenging of the four brothers. I think there are specifics to his behavior and personality, so trying to accurately replicate it does take some time. Apologies for any out-of-characterness from Donnie. Remember that constructive criticism is always appreciated, especially for characters, and enjoy! 
Requested: @sunnyselks 
Summary: You were wounded from protecting Donnie. When you were waving off his demands to treat you, he had to take it into his own hands to tend to you.
Genre: Hurt-Comfort
Reader: Second POV. Gender-neutral pronouns if any.
Pairing: Rise!Donnie X Reader
Warnings: Mentions of blood, needles, cuts. Argument over each other’s safety.
Word Count: ~1060
~
“Don, I’m fine.”
“Oh, sure, tell me that while your clothes are soaked in blood!” Donnie yelled. “Take off your shirt, (Name), or I’m not letting you leave the grounds of this room.”
“Donnie,” you stressed, clutching the wound on your arm. 
“(Name), don’t.”
You turned away from him, about to leave his room despite his warning. “It’s a minor injury, I’m perfectly fi—.”
Suddenly, small chips leeched onto your arm, catching you off-guard. They unfolded into wrist binds, where you realized this was his way of forcing you to stay put.
“Don!” you grunted, as the binds pulled you toward facing a wall. “Are you serious!?”
“As Galileo is about his heliocentric model.” Donnie took a binder clip from one of his desk drawers. “You leave me no choice, (Name).” As soon as the turtle lifted your shirt up from behind, chills ran over your skin from the cold air hitting the other cut on your back. He wrapped the hem over your collar, then proceeded to clip it.
“I could’ve done this myself or gone to a hospital,” you muttered.
Donnie scoffed. “And let them force you to pay expensive bills as your last resort when you have me? I thought you knew better than that.” He cleaned the blood around your wound with a wet paper towel before applying an alcohol wipe to disinfect.
“You know full well you can’t stitch your own back either. You wouldn’t want to risk inquiring your parental guardians for help in the end and being forced to give a whole explanation.”
“...”
From the corner of your eyes, you could see Donnie picking up a needle. The thought of it puncturing you made you shudder. There were vaccinations and blood tests, but they never changed your tension with needles.
You wanted to get this over with— the suspense was only making you more vulnerable.
“Are you going to inject the needle, Donnie—?” Your nails immediately dug into your palm as pain struck. "Argh..!" You winced badly.
“Don’t move,” he paused, “if that wasn’t obvious enough.”
“Easier said than done when I'm not used to having my skin pricked—!” You seethed, “Urgh.. couldn’t you have numbed it?”
“What, with lidocaine?” Donnie replied monotonously. “No, because you wouldn’t learn and would try to save me again—,” he pricked the needle the fourth time, “even though you are a human who could’ve gotten killed— God—why in the name of logic did you do that, (Name)!?”
“I did it to protect you!” you argued.
“Don’t you dare ignore the fact that you could’ve gotten killed!”
“I am capable of my own safety.”
“Scoffs. Think common sense, (Name). You’re a human,” he reminded, the anger in his voice showing. “I’m a mutant turtle; I have the biological features to defend myself!”
“You’re a soft-shelled turtle.”
Donnie stopped moving the needle. "Really, assuming that my soft-shell automatically makes me vulnerable? Are you trying to tell me I’m unable to protect myself because of that, (Name)?”
He frowned. “I have my technology— my intelligence to accommodate, so don’t put yourself in danger whenever the hell possible and let me handle myself. End of discussion.”
You wanted to slam your fists. As he was about to add another stitch, your body shook.
“They destroyed your battle shell!” Anguish scratching your voice. “Just because you're a mutant or because you have your military-grade tech, doesn't mean you won't get murdered, crushed!
God, don’t take it the wrong way. I’m not trying to assume or belittle neither you nor your tech. All I'm concerned about is keeping you alive!”
“...”
“You weakened your voice. “If me getting injured means you’d be okay, then that’s enough for me.”
Donnie’s breath hitched.
..You knew your turtle wasn’t great at apologizing, but his silence told you everything. He didn’t make a snarky or sarcastic remark.. instead, he listened.
“..I’m sorry.”
“I know. But don’t put yourself down.. I never once thought you're supposed to be perfectly strong or invulnerable. That applies to everyone all the same. Flaws happen, whether we're fine with it or not.”
You turned your head to look at Donnie. Something was still bothering him.
“But I’ll try not to scare you again if that makes you feel better.” The tension left his face, and he proceeded to finish the last few stitches.
It was all calm and quiet until he dragged his cold finger lightly over the stitched-up wound. You shuddered.
“You keep flinching so much.”
“You’re one to talk, you’re sensitive to touch as much as I am, if not so much more.”
“No, no, not that. I find it interesting, because.. I don’t see you reacting so violently when April stitched up the other cut on your back. You know, from falling off the table.” As Donnie applied a cotton pad and tape to cover your wound, he looked up to meet your eyes.  
But you quickly faced away to the other direction.
Donnie leaned the same way, one of his brows raised.
And you avoided eye-contact yet again.
.
.
.
Ah.
“You’re flustered.”
“What?” The red rushing to your ears.
“Flustered,” he repeated. “Its definition being ‘agitated, confused, ruffled—.’”
“No, I meant: how am I flustered?”
Donnie dragged his finger along your skin again. You felt your face heat up.
“You’re flustered from having your back exposed to me.”
“I’m not.” You sensed his ego returning.
“Tell that to my lie-detector and we’ll see how that goes.”
“You have a polygraph?”
“Of course not,” Donnie actually scoffed. “We all know polygraphs are never accurate enough to be trusted.” He unclipped your shirt and released the binds on your wrists.
You groaned, rubbing your aching hands. “You had me binded to a wall, and lifted my shirt to stitch my cut— so of course— I would feel exposed.. and flustered.” You sat in your turtle's desk chair.
“Yes, exactly, I did that to treat you." He crossed his arms. "And I find that hypocritical, considering you exposed yourself and your whereabouts on the Internet."
You gave him a look, before holding your knees to your chest. There was a change in expression as you whispered, "..Thanks."
Donnie stood awkwardly, rubbing his arm once he heard you and finding sincerity on your face. The soft-shelled turtle stepped closer to you and slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders.
"Hey, I thought you don't like this intimate stuff," you joked.
Now Donnie himself became flustered. “Don’t, (Name).”
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