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charmercharm3r · 9 months

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Dream You

Masterlist

wc: 4k

Synopsis: He cheated on you— in your dreams, then took kiss it better too literally.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, softdom!chan, light bondage, oral (m receiving), dacryphilia, pretty intensely fluffy they just rly love each other

☆ﾟ

4,000 followers! enjoy this lil idea as a thank you. i appreciate you!

You. Needed. Affection.

Just affection, and loads of it from one person in specific. Mostly because you were pretending to be mad at him and it made you miss him even more. Chan rarely makes you mad, he’s always good about communicating and listening, so the fact that you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why threw him off a little.

So there you were, sat on the couch wrapped in one of his hoodies eating straight out of the ice cream tub because you were too upset to do anything but count the seconds until he got home. You weren’t answering his texts, you picked up his call because you accidentally pressed the wrong button out of muscle memory and Chan could tell through the phone that today was just not a good day.

When he came home and found you sitting in the same spot that you were in when he called you– he knew this because you described it exactly as it looked, Chan almost collapsed at how cute you were. You had this ruffle in your brow and his hoodie looked like it was threatening to drown you in the black material. Gnawing on the spoon, your chest rumbled a little as Chan smiled his dimply smile and reached for the tub of ice cream to take away. “You doing okay, baby?” He chuckled trying to pop the spoon out of your mouth, wriggling it back and forth and swaying your head until you decided to let go.

“No, I’m mad at you,” there wasn’t much bite to the statement.

Chan pecked your forehead and ventured off to put the ice cream away, “oh yeah? Wanna tell me why so I can fix it?” He returned to stand behind you and lean over the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around your neck and nuzzling his cheek into the top of your head.

Upset but still wanting the physical touch, you pulled his arms tighter, “dream you cheated on me.”

He popped his head around the side of yours to come face to face with a look of genuine shock. “Did he?!” Chan hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to you.

“Yeah. I caught you in our bed and everything. Then you broke up with me and posted the bitch on your instagram the next day.” You huffed and pushed him away with no force, turning to lean on the armrest and lay your legs over his lap. Chan rested his head on your knees, looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes that never failed to make you melt.

“I thought I taught him better than that,” he gently scolded. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Is that why you didn’t kiss me back when I left this morning?

You nodded. “And why you weren’t answering my texts?” Another nod. “And why you can’t look at me because you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

You were half way through nodding for a third time when you caught his words, “hey! It’s not ridiculous! It could be a premonition, I could be psychic and get into fortune telling with how accurate I am.”

Chan closed his eyes and let his hands wander up and down your calves, lightly dragging his lips across the bare skin of your knees as he spoke, “mhm, mhm. Or it means that it’s never gonna come true. I like to think that, instead.”

It was getting harder to be mad when the feeling of his breath fanning over your skin made goosebumps rise, he loved watching the way your body reacted to him. It was never hard for him to work you up, physically and emotionally. Chan thrived on the effect he has over you, but it’s a two way street and you live for the way he’d do anything to please you. Even if it means apologizing for something he didn’t really do. In this reality, at least.

You wanted to be mad so bad that you debated on throwing him off you entirely, however his lips were just too plush looking and you craved to feel them on your own. Chan took his time to work them higher up your legs, eventually laying them and sticking his head under the hem of his hoodie you wore. He tugged you to lay flat so he could have more area to trace his pretty lips cross, the thoughts of being upset almost totally dissipating under his touch. Your leg instantly wrapped around his torso, to which he grinded lightly into the cushion. His hair tickled your bare chest as he peppers kisses across your belly, hands roaming your back to keep you near. He didn’t move as sexually as one might’ve thought from an outside perspective, it wasn’t to get into your nonexistent pants, you just got him so horny.

So horny to the point where he would’ve kept grinding against the couch if you didn’t feel like relieving him, he would’ve taken it like a champ if you denied him. You never do, though, as if you had the impulse control to ever tell him no.

Chan kept his movements slow, intentional, with the purpose of getting you to relax and see how much he loves you and how much an asshole dream-him was for cheating on dream-you. Big hands moved down to cup your ass under the fabric of your underwear, teething lightly above your belly button then soothing over the bite with his fat tongue. The wet muscle laved over the sore spots with the tip of his tongue, then flattening it, the tip, then flat again, alternating like he would if it were your pussy and were trying to get you to cum.

You wanted that, you always wanted his tongue on you. But now, you needed this more. The closeness and being able to keep him where only you can love and appreciate.

It felt so stupid to even be thinking that way, stupid that you had pulled such childish acts instead of just telling him in the first place. If you had just asked to be coddled, he would’ve given it to you without a second thought.

Chan needed this as much as you did, little to your knowledge. He could feel how off you were in the morning but really just didn’t have the time to fix it at that moment. It stung his heart hearing what dream-him did to dream-you, he couldn’t possibly imagine putting you through that, let alone move on so quickly if you ever were to actually break up.

No, he couldn’t even bear the thought of leaving you, it hurt too much.

His heart hurt for you, he could see the pain all over your face when he got home and it wasn’t even real life. Chan would rather die than ever let you go through something like that in this reality. In your dreams, well, there isn’t much he can do other than what he’s doing now.

Leaving chaste kisses anywhere along your torso he could, massaging your ass with his nimble fingers while heavily breathing in the scent of your skin. The quiet moans you were trying to suppress made him smile, able to feel your muscles tightening and loosening beneath his fingertips. He felt so warm against you, you wanted to thread your fingers through his hair and tried to from over the hoodie. Chan mumbled incoherently in protest and tugged the hem over his head again when you tried to tug it up.

“Wanna be close to you,” he murmured, going back to rubbing his cheek to your belly. You could only giggle and let him.

This was just Chan. Just purely and entirely him. Doing nothing and everything at the same time and making you melt into the palm of his hand, you’d forgotten why you were mad until he spoke again.

“Can’t believe I’d do that,” the barrier of material made it hard to hear him.

“Hm?” You hummed.

He slithered a little higher up your chest and you pulled the neckline to peak down into the dark shadows of the hoodie. You could see just one of his pretty brown eyes peering up at you sweetly, “who in their right mind would do that to you?”

Chan rested his cheek on your chest and stayed there, arms enclosing around your torso. “Dream-you did. And it really sucked.”

He whined this time, higher in pitch and wiggling to get comfortable. Your head back against the couch, you closed your eyes and let yourself calm down before you got worked up again. Chan could hear your heartbeat speed up, placing another soft kiss to the skin above it. You shivered and draped your arms over the back of his shoulders to succumb entirely to the feeling. Just as you finally relaxed, warmth engulfed your left nipple, wet and hot and being suckled into his mouth like a pacifier. “I’m trying really hard to be mad,” you admit while smiling to yourself, out of his field of vision.

“Please, don’t be,” he pleaded, “I’ll never hurt you. I’ll destroy anyone who tries.” It sounded silly coming from his mouth considering it was full of your tit, you couldn’t help a gentle laugh.

A few more moments of him playing with your breast, then switching to the other with no regard for the wet sounds that emitted from his suckling, you couldn’t take not seeing him anymore. You sat up as much as he’d let you and tucked your arms into the body of the hoodie, pulling your head through the neckline just enough so that the two of you were pressed chest to chest under the material.

It was dark and hot, you weren’t sure how he was able to stand being underneath it for so long. You couldn’t totally see him, but you knew he was looking at you– or at least, attempting to. You felt for his cheeks and held him just millimeters away, feeling his calm breathing over your chin. In almost total darkness, unable to see but could feel each other entirely, he whispered, “you’re safe with me. You’ll always be safe with me.”

You pulled him into you, savoring the fragile way he always tended to kiss you when you were particularly emotional, scared as if he’d break you. Handle with care, your heart said, and he did just that and more. Delicate. Do not touch, written outside the glass case he envisioned you in whenever something went even remotely in the opposite direction you wanted. It wasn’t that you needed the protection, by no means were you unable to handle yourself, but you invoked something in him that he couldn’t control. Fortunately for him, you let him smother you and baby you and wrap you in bubble wrap so tight you couldn’t breathe because it felt good to be seen. It felt good to be loved, and loved by him.

It was getting more and more difficult not to rut your hips against him, any part of him because he made you that insatiable. Chan could feel you trying to restrain and laughed against your lips.

“What if I want you to break me?” He glitched for a second, then went back to kissing you with a little more intensity.

“Then, I’ll just have to put you together again.” You ripped the hoodie away, leaving you naked in his hold aside from the underwear you were soaking through. “And break you, put you together again, and again, and again until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You felt the wave of butterflies flutter right between your legs and caved.

“Fuck– take me to the bedroom.”

Chan stood just to throw you over his shoulder effortlessly, entirely too excited for either of your own good. It wasn’t until now that you noticed he was still in those uncomfortably tight jeans he left in this morning, your mouth watered at the timely prospect of getting him out of them. You just couldn’t stop yourself from sending a light smack to his ass as he walked through the bedroom door, and he reciprocated with an even harder one to the bare skin of your own.

He laid you down gently just to cover your body with his own once again, not letting you strip him without your tongues laving against one another's. His shirt came off first, tossing it towards the headboard, your underwear, then his pants. Chan stopped you from reaching for his underwear so he could tease you, barely tugging the elastic down his hips and letting his erection catch in the fabric until he finally let it slap against his lower belly erotically.

Chan let them fall to the floor before kneeling tall onto the bed, “turn around,” he instructed. You followed and faced the headboard, seeing him reach around for his discarded shirt. Just barely could you feel his hot breath against your neck, “are you sure this is what you want tonight, baby?”

You hummed with desperation, “break me. Lovingly, please.”

Leaving a small peck to your cheek for reassurance, Chan grabbed your arms harshly and brought them behind your back. He used his forgotten shirt as a makeshift restraint, keeping you bound and tied up with no way of being able to touch him, you wondered what it was he had in store that required it.

Once he finished he sat opposite of you, falling on his back and watching the process of your mouth watering over seeing him in the perfect cock-sucking position. The redness of his tip, you would’ve thought it was painful if you didn’t know better. No, that’s a lie– it was painful. Painful watching you be so pretty and worked up and he was fighting the urge with everything in him not to untie you and lay you in the sheets like the pillow princess you so rarely got to be.

But it wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was to not think, be serviced and be of service, used to please. Tonight needed to end with you feeling weightless and not an ounce of sadness or anger left lingering to be found.

“Break you lovingly?” Chan called, tucking an arm under his head while the other stroked himself slowly. He swiped the bead of precum, beckoning you over with a single finger and forcing his thumb past your lips to taste. You hummed at the salty bitterness, the weight of him on your tongue and could feel yourself salivating. “Which do you want first, doll? Break you, or love you?”

Judging from the way you were practically drooling down his wrist, he took your lack of response as the former.

Stealing his thumb away, a thread of spit following, Chan laid back down and put both hands behind his head. “Go ahead. Be a good doll and suck.”

You folded so fast that it made him chuckle with pride knowing you were wanting him as much as he wanted you. Licking and twirling your tongue around the tip like hard candy, taking in as much of him as possible. Your own spit dripped down your chin and filled your mouth like a perfect hole.

Chan started to stutter up into you the further down you went. The more of him you took in, the harder it got not to thrust up. By the time you’d gotten to the point of lightly gagging, he was biting his lip to keep from losing all control. But then you looked up at him, eyes big and watery, tears already rolling down your cheek and you couldn’t even wipe it away. Nope, all self control completely obliterated by that single look. That fucking look, Chan physically felt his chest cave like crumbling sand between his fingers.

“I’ll fucking break you, baby. Don't worry your pretty little head, I’ll make you forget.” You couldn’t reply with his thick cock in your mouth, but could see you approve with the little nods you managed to give. “Be a good cocksleeve, yeah? Make me feel good.”

You took him as deep as you could, stilled as soon as your nose hit his pelvis and thought that was good enough since he groaned, loud and deep from within his chest. But you looked up at him again, this time just as the tears fell from your lash line. Chan tangled both hands in your hair and hooked his legs over your shoulders, cock still buried down your throat. He locked his ankles around the back of your head and pushed himself that much deeper to get you to gag harder. The sound that he emitted resembled that of a bear, hearty, unrestrained, feeling.

Oh, how he felt you. Felt the constricting of your throat around him, felt your tongue fighting to make room for you to breathe and failing, felt your tears wet the skin of his pelvis. Nothing but your safe word could have stopped him from pulling you off his cock for a split second to inhale a deep breath, then shoving you back down to abuse your throat like it was just a toy. For now, you were just a toy– his toy.

Lewd and adulterous squelching of your mouth slicking up and down his cock filled the room, overridden just by Chan’s moans of pleasure and your light humming to vibrate up his shaft. He was kind for a few moments– as kind as he could have been in this position, and eventually gave up seeing as you could still fight back. His lazy pushes and pulls of guiding your head up and down turned into him rutting up into your mouth in quick jabs, utilizing the headlock he had you in as leverage to move at what could have been neck breaking speed. His hands held you firmly in place as Chan did all the work now, focused on nothing but his own pleasure as your tears and spit mixed to puddle around his throbbing cock.

You were a gagging, crying mess and you loved every second. So much so that you spread your knees and tried to rub your puffy clit into the bunched up sheets. A few more upthrusts of his tip hitting the back of your throat, Chan let you go entirely. Without the stability of him holding you up, your weak body tilted to the side as you gasped for air, hips slightly twitching from the immense need built up.

He took a second to regain his composure while you caught your breath. Chest still heaving up and down, Chan forgot that your hands were still tied, wondering why you weren’t jumping his bones the second he let you free. Sitting up, he tilted his head at you with a sympathetic smile, “sweet doll, I haven’t even done anything to you yet. Anything left in here?” He mockingly tapped the side of your temple, to which it went unacknowledged. You just wanted him on you again, whining and trying to wriggle closer to him. “Hm, guess not. Did my job, didn’t I? Didn’t take very much effort, baby. You love me that much? Or you’re just a cockhungry doll.”

Through the soreness in your jaw, you managed to whisper, “l–love you.”

Chan chuckled, “I know you do. Love my sweet doll, too.” He leaned over to kiss your forehead, ignoring the way you puckered your lips for more. Chan manhandled you to the center of the bed, keeping you on your side with arms still restricted from touching.

There was nothing you could do but let him do what he wanted with you, but this was the lovingly part. This, although bound on your end, was where he showed you everything he couldn’t tell you. This was the putting you back together part, the safe with me part, the dream-me can go fuck himself because you deserve the best dicking down ever part.

And could you tell that’s what all of this was? Absolutely. Could you do anything about it? Not a chance. You couldn’t touch him, couldn’t form coherent sentences, couldn’t do anything but babble love you, love you, and more love you’s.

Chan pushed your hair from your sweaty forehead, memorizing your features for just a second before he lost himself again. Then straightening out your bottom leg for him to straddle while resting the top in the crook of his arm and aligning his cock at your entrance, just teasing your clit with the tip and spreading the perpetually leaking beads of cum. He would dip into your hole, hear you whimper, then pull away and do it all over again to keep you in a constant state of frustrated that he wouldn’t just fuck you already.

It was because fucking you wasn’t what he wanted, he hated calling it that. If it were anyone but you, calling sloppy sex for what it is wouldn’t have bothered him. But you weren’t just anyone, he wouldn’t dare call you anything less than what you deserved and that applied in the bedroom as well. That was, of course, aside from when you truly asked for it.

Even the sloppiest of sex with you wouldn’t be classified as just fucking. He felt every inch of you in every single one of his nerve endings, in his veins, pumping the blood through his heart straight down to the tip of his cock. Chan felt a little dumb just looking at you, like he’d lost his mind at the mere scent of your arousal, he felt like a lovesick puppy and if you’d ever decide to leave him, he’d die of a broken heart.

God, he loves you. He said it as he finally pushed into your pulsing, wet hole. He said it as he came to the hilt, he said it as he slipped the bondage off your wrists, as he grabbed your hand to hold and as he began to lazily thrust in and out, searching for the spot that would make you cry so hard you’ll pass out as soon as you cum.

And you did cry, not just from how good you felt physically but because even if he wasn’t mindlessly telling you how much he loved you, you could see it in the way he looked at you. He wasn’t looking anywhere but your face, straight into your eyes in a stare so intense it should’ve been uncomfortable. It was anything but, you shed a tear every time you blinked to see him still looking at you like he was sure you were the last thing he’d ever see.

God, you love him. You said it as your hand held his for dear life, as he pummeled the soft spot within you that made you see stars through the tears, you said it as you were curling your toes and arching your back at an unholy angle. You said it as coherently as possible as the butterflies in your belly swept you into a whirlwind of pleasure, as you milked him for everything he had, as you came back down to earth somehow laying on his chest and not at all in the same position as when the orgasm hit.

Gentle beating of his heart in his chest stirred you from the light daze you had fallen into, you don’t even remember doing it. “Hey there,” his chest rumbled. Chan kissed the top of your head, your forehead, then moved to lay your head in the pillows so he could kiss your lips.

As he tucked your hair behind your ear, you finally got to brush your fingers through his curls, so soft and pretty. His eyes closed as your nails raked across his scalp, letting his forehead fall against yours. The rumbling of his chest made you smile, “you purr like a cat,” you said through the sore scratch in your throat.

“Cats ward off evil. Real me is shooing away the nightmares for good. Let me purr.” Chan let you tug his head against his chest with a content him falling from your lips, where his purring turned into soft snores as the exhaustion finally hit him.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

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adventuringblind · 10 months

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Defensive Maneuvers

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader

Genre: fluffy with a pinch of angst

Request: yes! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Requests are open for Max, Charles, Oscar, and lando. Don't hesitate to send me ideas!

Summary: The normally soft-spoken leclerc sister becomes the out spoken girl her family knows. What triggers this change? Max Verstappen and his ridiculous father.

Warnings: Jos being Jos, mentions of verbal abuse, mention of physical abuse if you squint, *best Daniel Riccardo voice* nooooot prooooofreaaaad

Notes: written in third person . I am neither the youngest nor have brothers, so I tried my best to get an accurate relationship depiction. Ironically, I'm the oldest with sisters.

Masterlist

The Leclerc sister is known by her brothers as the baby of the family. Even Arthur, who is only older by mere minutes, holds it over her head that she is the youngest.

The constant teasing from her siblings made her learn how to use her quick wit. Verbal comebacks becoming her specialty at a young age. Because of her ability to be polite in public, no one suspects what she is truly capable of.

Her brothers tease her regardless but she lets them. Her sharp tongue making them regret not holding theirs.

Pierre had made this mistake once. Mainly under the influence of Charles convincing him to say something at her expense. The verbal lashing he received in response had him apologizing profusely. Charles doubling over in laughter as her practically lectured his friend. Needless to say, Pierre has yet to make this mistake again.

Charles was by far her favorite sibling. Lorenzo had a habit of bossing her around and Arthur shared a room with her. She loved all her brothers, but felt the most connected to Charles. She followed him around like a lost puppy some days. Ready to cheer him on at every Karting race.

This was where she first encountered Max.

After the race, she went to go congratulate Charles for a race well done. He was third but all the Leclerc’s were proud nonetheless. On the way over to him, she saw Max. He was at majority of the races Charles was at. The two had never talked formally, but they were aware of the others existence.

Something about the situation she was witnessing didn’t felt right. Max was standing with his dad, his knuckles turning white from gripping his second place trophy so tightly.

As she walked by, she almost fell over at hearing how his father was treating him. The slander leaving his mouth over his son placing second almost made her tear up. She was only nine at the time, but even she knew whatever was happening was wrong.

So she steeled herself, took a deep breath, and entered into the conversation. She walked up and tapped Max’s shoulder. He jumped at the feeling, not having seen you coming.

“Hello Max, Charles is busy with family but wanted to congratulate you.” She smiled warmly at the Dutch boy. Obviously taken off guard.

Jos turned to her, also not knowing how to handle this. “Not much to congratulate,” he sneered. The young Leclerc narrows her eyes at him. Not realizing how brash the older man is.

“What do you mean, Mr. Verstappen? There is plenty to congratulate.” She questions back, her tone mildly snarky. Obviously having no intention of backing down. The older man didn’t even bothering responding to her. He turns on his heels and walks away. Yelling back to Max “I’ll be in the car.”

Max looks between the girl who he’d never spoken too and his father. Unsure of what he should do in this situation. Thankfully the girl notices this. “Sorry for stepping in. He sounded unreasonably upset.” She apologized with a huff.

“Thanks actually- for what you did.” Max stutters out. No one had ever taken the time to defend him.it was an unusual feeling. He knows he can’t stay long though. “I should go. I’ll see you around- I guess.” Then he runs off. Waving as he goes.

She had told her mother about it. The older woman explaining what was probably happening at home. It made her sad for the Dutch boy. Having to hear that it happens more often then just races.

This was only the first encounter with Max. The Leclerc sister made it a point to find Max after every race and praise for a job well done. Much to his fathers dismay. She knew she couldn’t stop what was happening, but maybe her words would help ease some of the hurt.

The girls mother occasionally helped out with her quest. Walking with her daughter to find the Dutch and congratulate him.

It became a routine. One that Max was starting to enjoy. The seeking out now being reciprocated. The two even finding time to converse about things aside from racing.

Max’s father had started to become increasingly more annoyed at this fact. Pulling Max away from you. Spitting vulgar words at a child that wasn’t even his own.

Pascals had made a note that if she was directly insulting to Mr. Verstappen, it might make things harder for Max. She still made her snarky remarks and threw insults at the older man, but only loud enough to make Max chuckle.

Her brothers eventually caught on. Charles and Arthur saying nice things to Max in passing. Charles was more strained, but was trying nonetheless.

The brothers began teasing her relentlessly as they grew up. Her fondness for Max only growing. Her quick tongue seemed to falter when they brought up Max. She held a soft spot for him, as he did for her.

When Max and Charles were in formula 2, she was incredibly proud of both of them. She divided her time equally between the two boys. Still always making sure to sing Max’s praises loud enough for everyone to hear.

Originally she though Max’s father would cool down and maybe start to see how talented he is, but she was mistaken. The older man somehow seemed to get more competitive.

It was increasingly easier to talk to each other now since the two both have phones. She comforted over video calls as he ranted about something stupid his father said to him. He listens to her talk about her fathers battle with illness. The two became inseparable. Being the reason for each others smiles on most occasions.

Then formula 1 came. Charles driving for Ferrari and Max for Redbull. The youngest Leclerc baskets in both boy finally making it. Years of hard work paying off.

Max no longer lived at home. Having moved to an apartment in Monaco. This meaning the two could spend more time together. The, now young woman, takes pride in that fact she convinced him to move closer to her.

She’d become more outspoken recently. Opening defending both her brothers and Max. Most people knew not to say anything if she was within earshot.

The year is now 2021 and Max and Lewis are both fighting hard for the championship title. Max was visible upset at the end the race. Second place wasn’t enough if Lewis is going to keep winning.

The young woman immediately trying to find him after the podium celebration. She had seen the look in his fathers eyes and is now frantically trying to beat him to Max. Charles and Arthur found her in a frenzy. Confused because she is usually calm, her sarcastic remarks and opinions given so level that you’d think it was rehearsed.

“I need to find Max.” She explained, panting from running around the paddock. They decided three sets of eyes would be better then one and split off in different direction.

She was so caught up in her search for Max that she hadn’t noticed her phone buzzing in her pocket.

A text from Charles reading: In the back of the Redbull garage. It doesn’t look good.

She took off running spotting snarled waiting for her outside. She could hear the commotion from Jos.

“I was going to try and break it up but they won’t let me in.” Charles gestures to the wall of Redbull engineers. She however, wasn’t going to let them stop her from getting to Max. She shoved her way through with determination and surprising strength. Immediately settling herself between the two Dutch men.

Jos had turned his anger towards her now. His finger getting dangerously close to her face. “You are part of the problem.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “The only problem currently is you.”

“My son has been distracted because of you. His hopes for a title this year not getting any better because of you.” He spits. She can feel his breath on her face.

“Personally, I think Max is a good racer because he wants to be. Not because of you or me helping or distracting.” She lets a smirk form on her lips. “Your just angry because your finally running out of things to berate him about. Hard to be angry when Max is better then you.”

Jos’ face had turned red. She could feel Max’s anxiety increasing from behind her.

Then everything happened in slow motion. She hadn’t noticed Jos’ hand raised above her. Charles moved faster then anyone. Shoving Jos to the side, his hand not getting to connect with anything but the nearest wall.

He was raging now. Thrashing like a child who didn’t get their way. Pierre and Charles who had somehow managed their way inside kept a firm grip on him as Christian ran to get security.

The Youngest Leclerc. The one who spent her days defending Max in secret, keeping the haters at bay never letting Max go a day without know he is loved. Finally she turned around and stared deeply into his eyes. Blue irises glasses over from tears he’d been holding back.

She embraces him warmly. His face buried into the crook of her neck. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” She apologized softly.

Max pulled away and gives her a confused look. “On the contrary, I think you were right on time.”

Security had come and grabbed Jos to escort him out of the paddock. Charles and Pierre now finding then tension between the two heating up. The two boys giggling. “I swear if you two don’t kiss or something I will no play nice with Max.” Charles laughed.

She didn’t care about the teasing. Just taking time to comfort Max. The two still conjoined in a loose hold.

Max leans his forehead against hers. “You know I’ve loved you for awhile right?” He smiles.

“You would be stupid to not.” She remarks. Max shaking his head at the remark. “But I have to agree with Charles on this one.”

Max doesn’t hesitate any longer. Placing his lips on hers. Pulling her as close to him as he can. He then pulls away, his lips still close to hers and voice barely a whisper.

“Thank you, for protecting me all these years.”

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eoieopda · 1 year

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can i request something about getting into an argument with bf jungkook ?

Sorry for the wait, love! I couldn’t decide how I wanted to approach this (silly vs serious, etc.) so now I’m just winging it! I hope this is okay??

cw: alcohol mention, couple fighting, repeated use of the word “fuck” and its derivatives, angst w/ fluffy ending.

also- I have no idea what the word count is but it feels excessive for a drabble?? lol sorry 🫠

You weren’t quick to anger. Truly, you weren’t. In fact, you were patient and forgiving - to a fault. When something didn’t go your way, or when someone said something upsetting, you took a deep breath and let it go. You didn’t hold grudges; didn’t dwell. You didn’t keep score. But this one stuck in your teeth, and it hurt.

He knew how important this was to you. He knew exactly how many times before you’d played it cool, let the disappointment go rather than let it fester. You constantly excused him for how busy he was, and you understood that there were just some things he couldn’t show up for. You didn’t hold it over his head that he couldn’t be as present as either of you wanted him to be.

So, when he cleared his schedule and promised you he’d be at your firm’s happy hour - joining you in celebrating your promotion - you were elated. Your associates could finally meet the man you’d been prattling on about for two years. They’d see the real-life version of the person in all your framed photos. And he’d get to know all the people you had to spend most of your waking hours with. But they didn’t; he didn’t.

Seething in your seat, you ruminated on the fact that this was his idea in the first place. He drove you to your office that morning. He wanted you to let loose after hours, and when the night was over, he wanted drive your tipsy ass home. But now, your tipsy ass was crying on a city bus because he couldn’t be bothered to keep his promise.

Your bitterness swept you up like a wave and carried you - from the bus stop, across two blocks, to your apartment - even after the heel of your left pump snapped on a particularly cracked patch of sidewalk. When you hobbled over the threshold into your foyer, it was bone-deep anger that kept you from bursting into tears; and too-high adrenaline that carried you on aching feet.

You tore up the hallway and hung a right into your bedroom. There, sleeping sideways on the bed with his trouser-clad legs dangling off the edge, was Jungkook. His tie - untied, more accurately - looped around his neck, underneath the chin nestled into his shoulder. He’d gotten ready and then - somehow - he never made it out the door.

For reasons you couldn’t articulate, this fact made it all worse. So close.

“Are you kidding?” You snapped, scaring him awake. His bleary eyes tried to focus on you, but you were bent in half, hopping on one foot as you tried to undo the ankle strap of your busted shoe.

His horrified eyes dropped from your mascara-stained face to that of his watch. Immediately, he muttered, “Fuck. Shit! Baby, I’m so s-“

Having successfully released your ankle from the death trap it was held hostage by, you whipped your heel against the ground. You stood on one stocking-covered foot to address the other pump. You cut him off - mid-sentence, at the knees.

“No, I am not your baby tonight. I am the girl who just made partner - who got stood up in front of the people who made her partner - who then had to wobble home alone!”

He was shocked by your tone, and frankly, so were you. He’d never seen you angry because you didn’t get angry. The two of you had never fought before, either. Trivial arguments, sure - but nothing a calm conversation couldn’t fix. Nothing like this.

He raised his hands, silently begging you not to shoot, “I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry, okay? I am. I fucked up - and I know I fucked up - but I was up all night working so I could take the night off. I guess I was more tired than -“

“Then go back to sleep, Jungkook,” the look in your eyes was nuclear but your voice was eerily soft. You could’ve leveled Gyeonggi in its entirety when you tacked on, “On the couch.”

Without another word, he shot to his feet. Lips pursed and eyes wild, he stalked off out of the bedroom. You shucked off your blazer and threw yourself onto the bed - mattress still warm from the weight of his body. Face first in a pillow, your eyes screwed shut. You swallowed the frustrated scream you wanted so badly to let loose.

After several moments of tense silence, there was an elongated, muffled scraping sound, and then a tremendous clatter in the doorway. Your head snapped to determine the source of the noise.

With gritted teeth, there was Jungkook - pushing the chaise from your living room into your bedroom as if it weighed nothing at all. And he didn’t stop pushing until that stupid little sofa was crammed up against his side of the bed.

That bastard.

If you weren’t so mad at him, you might’ve conceded that this was impressive. Typical. Lovely, even - how insistent he was on sleeping next to you that he found a loophole in the most Jungkook way imaginable.

Ignoring your shocked expression, he slumped down onto the cushions, onto his back, and knotted his arms over his chest. Simultaneously, you rolled over; unintentionally mirroring his posture. Both glowering up at the ceiling, jaws clenched.

He sounded so angry when he said it, you almost missed what he said.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye to find him doing the same. Expressions still set in stone, body language communicating one word - impasse. You said nothing; you didn’t know where to start.

“You deserve to be celebrated, and you sure as fuck don’t deserve any of what you got instead.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“And I swear to god, I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you.”

You swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than the end of this ugly evening. Weapons down, white flags up. His face softened when yours did.

“Baby,” you started slowly, watching a spark of hope ignite in the dark of his eyes.

Just as cautiously, he replied, “Yes?”

“Put the couch back,” you sniffed. After a pregnant pause, you finally finished, “And then come to bed.”

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transhawks · 23 days

Text

Maybe I want too much but like three and a half years after the reveal you think more people would write a canonly accurate Dabi, in which he's less wanting revenge over the abuse and more just upset and obsessed with being discarded. Like I've resigned myself to fanon Dabi being everywhere but sometimes I pause and just wish people could be okay with the idea Touya adored his father and his motivation is being thrown away by him, not that he was "pushed" to be better, because we know Endeavor did the exact opposite in canon.

I don't know, I just like that dynamic more. I like the Dabi who screams in jealousy that Shouto has amounted to nothing even with abuse and seems to even wish he could have been in Shouto's place despite knowing what his kid brother has been too. I like the rage at being replaced and cast aside, I like the entitlement that comes from being so close and so far to fulfilling his father's dream and the yearning to be looked at. And yeah, I also like the uncomfortable idea that for the first three or years of fatherhood Endeavor actually had a kid who loved him before he ruined it all.

It makes all the more ugly how it turned out, and far more human to realize how much Dabi craves his father's attention and when this is now such a core part of his character, why am I rarely able to see it in fic? Why are people so against portraying a Dabi who loved his father and wished exactly to be what he wanted at one time? I don't think this Endeavor apologia, wanting to see the canonly written dynamic between them? It just feels like we can't leave 2020 in characterization.

#Dabi #I think people just don't know how to write abuse victims with nuance #And that includes loving abusers #And acknowledging those abusers as very imperfect humans as well

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tomieafterdark · 2 months

Text

Toxic!Eren drabble (18+ minors dni)

Synopsis: you want to break up but your bf is too toxic to allow that.

Recently I had a conversation with someone and it kind of inspired this drabble (If you feel like Eren is not like canon Eren here, it is because his personality here is also based on whoever inspired this smut), except he did not fuck me after saying he would leak shit if i backstabbed him. Also a tiny disclaimer: I feel like this is obvious but I will say it anyway, everything written in this is purely fictional and should be kept that way. If anyone tries this with you in real life, get help. This is also not an accurate representation of my dynamic with whoever this smut is based on, he just has his “moments” and I like making smut out of them. That is all.

About ten minutes ago, you told Eren you wanted to break up. Things aren’t working out, and he’s way too much for you right now. Instead of having a normal reaction, he does the unthinkable—threatening to leak certain information about you and certain pictures.

It hurts you deeply, not to the core but close enough. Trust isn’t easy to build up, and it was even worse for you considering your past wounds that still haven’t healed. Every bit of trust you had built up just shattered in that moment, as if it was never there to begin with.

He is dangerously good with words, sometimes it makes you feel like you’re his puppet and he pulls the strings whenever he wants to. Even if you can resist his words, his intense stare will pull you in instead. He has the most beautiful eyes, of course no one can resist their pull.

When you were upset about him threatening to leak your information and photos, he just started pulling the strings without a care in the world which is what led you here; back arched, face buried in the plushie, whimpering and crying as he pounds you with no mercy.

Your mind is foggy, you still haven’t processed the words that came out of his mouth when you wanted to break up. You did not, in a million years, expect those words to come out of him. It pretty much feels like a knife to your throat. Just as you are about to get lost in thought and perhaps cry some more, he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls on it harshly.

“Get a grip.” He says coldly and lets go of your hair.

You try to argue back, but he is 5 steps ahead and starts circling your clit before you even open your mouth. Whatever you were wanting to say just comes out as incoherent blabbers and whimpering as your insides squeeze tighter around him. He chuckles in response and mutters “that's what I thought” under his breath.

Since he is 5 steps ahead he is also aware you will cum any second now, which is why he switches positions quite hastily. He has your legs resting behind your ears as he teases your entrance by barely giving you the tip. He knows you get needy and will do or say anything to cum. You look up at him, that smug sadistic look on his face puts you in subspace faster than you can blink. At this point he practically got what he wanted, you won't want a breakup after this. Whatever else he does to you is just for fun.

“Please..” you plead, looking up at him with puppy eyes. You had cried so much earlier that your face was glowing from it.

“Repeat what you were telling me earlier babe,” he says while continuing to tease your sensitive entrance with the tip. “Tell me how I am too much for you and how you don't want to continue this!” You can hear the anger in his voice now, he does not take kindly to breakups unless he is the one doing it. This was peak betrayal to him.

Something about him turns you into a horny nymph, even though this was your chance to resist and actually break up with him, your body and mind were both betraying you completely. You were so desperate for him, being manhandled and fucked disrespectfully hard by him was the only thing on your mind right now. His firm grip on your thighs, as he was pushing them back further, was not helping. He could feel your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his tip, even if you were not saying a word right now the rest of your body was very loud and clear.

You feel your eyes watering again, from the frustration this time. It doesn't help that he is staring right into them, all while caressing your face. Staring into his eyes, especially with the state you are currently in felt like a trance. You were so lost in his eyes, you weren't even aware of how you were trying your best to move against his tip, completely desperate for any friction you could get.

You have no idea how much your crying turns him on, same with your frustration and desperation. It was about time he reminded you again of how badly you need him, a reminder that no one but him could get you to act like this just for dick. He was equally desperate for you, probably more frustrated than you but he is so stoic and cold on the outside. You would never know. He had enough of messing with you though, and by the looks of it you were nearing your edging limit.

His right hand lets go of your thigh, creeping up to your neck instead. He keeps eye contact as he chokes you very lightly. He is so close to your face, staring deep into your eyes with a predatory look. It makes you shudder, but it also makes you want to spread your legs even more for him.

The way he suddenly bottoms out fully, with no warning, has you seeing stars. You had been in this position with previous partners, but none of them reached this deep inside of you. You have to bite your cheek to not scream, especially when you look down on your stomach for a split second and you can see his dick print on it. You suddenly remember that back when you had just gotten to know each other, you texted him saying you want him in your guts. Looks like you got what you wished for.

He chokes you harder while pushing your head back, making you look right into his eyes again. His stare is so intense, you want to look away sometimes. His stare made you feel so vulnerable and exposed, it cut right through all your layers and saw right through your soul. It would not be too far off to say his eyes were fucking your soul.

“I-I’m gonna cum-” you whimper, struggling to keep eye contact. You know exactly what you have to say next if you don't want him to suddenly stop and edge you even more.

“I’m sorry for causing unnecessary drama-” you cry out. “I-I was wrong..I do not want to break up..I love you!”

“That's right.” He smiles and starts thrusting into you even harder, he drops eye contact now and the focus shifts to between your legs. He is obsessed with how you take all of him in so well, he loves watching you swallow him whole and he especially loves that you are so sensitive that you quiver and squeeze around him at every movement he does.

He doesn't stop fucking you when you cum. Not even slowing down the pace.

Instead, both his hands are on your hips now slamming you against his pelvis. You keep squirting, but he doesn't stop even for a second. You are so overstimulated at this point, every few thrusts make you cum all over him.

You are close to tapping out at this point, eyes rolling at the back of your head. You are in safe hands though, he may be toxic and not allow you to break up because he is too possessive and wants to almost own you, but with that comes him being extremely careful of you. He pulls out and slaps you lightly to wake you up, fully attentive of you now.

“Babe, are you okay?” He asks, albeit in a cold uncaring tone, but that's just how he sounds in general. He really does care.

He comes back and slaps you again lightly, holding a glass of water in his other hand. You wake up this time.

You don't really say anything when you regain consciousness nor do you drink the water, you just mumble “I am fine” under your breath and start straddling him. There is something about his caring nature that turns you on so much, his attention to detail is already attractive as it is but when it shows like this during sex it just makes you want him on a different level.

The breakup was history at this point, now you were on top of him whispering dirty things in his ears. You wanted him to fill you to the brim with his cum, then fuck you with all the cum in you and cum in you some more. You had never met a guy that unlocked this side of you, it feels unreal, he is so perfect it drives you mad.

“Please fill me up, I need you so bad..” You were crying in his ears as you quickly slid his cock inside of you, wasting no time and starting bouncing on it. “I truly am sorry for earlier, I could never be without you!”

He is both amused and extremely turned on by your behavior, mostly turned on though as he wastes no time, putting you on your back with your legs on his shoulders. Eren had no idea how hot he looked, the sounds he was making was music to your ears. You were staring in awe as he came inside of you.

You truly can't get enough of him, so when he collapses next to you on the bed, you crawl over to him licking him clean hoping it will lead to a round two in the shower perhaps.

Author's note: I did not proofread this. If you find any mistakes, take it to the grave pls.

#aot smut #eren smut #attack on titan smut #eren jaeger smut #eren x reader #not proof read #eren aot smut #smut #toxic eren

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hitomisuzuya · 5 months

Note

eeek your reqs are finally open yippe!!

okok so housemate scara that likes to be js a little mean to reader for fun; and one day scara comes home a little upset and takes out his stress on reader by overstimming them for hours and bullying his cock nd some toys into them:3

- 🎧

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Sex toys. Degradation. Overstimulation.

He can take his frustration out on my like that anytime he wants 😳

People were shit. Scaramouche knew that. Just because he knew that didn't make it any less true. He had a good stress reliever at home, though. You and your cunt were the perfect stress ball for him to take his frustrations out on.

You whined in overstimulation, earning you a laugh as he thrust a purple ribbed vibrator inside your weeping cunt. You writhed on the bed, trying to close your legs, folding the sheets tightly into your hand.

"Aww, what's wrong? I told you to keep your pretty legs spread," He gave your clit a wet smack, leaving the toy to vibrate against your sweet spot as he pried your legs open, "or are you too fucked out to understand?"

Your hips jolted off the bed in a knee jerk reaction, crying out loudly. "Cum..wanna cum," You babbled, the ribs of the vibrator stretching your walls apart. His thumb swiped away a few tears that fell from your eyes.

The harder he pumped the vibrator in and out of you, the wetter you got. Scaramouche had ruined orgasm after orgasm just to see you squirm and beg. It made all the stress leave his body.

"Please, please," You moaned, rolling your hips up desperately into the toy.

Your pleas were making Scaramouche's cock ache. You needed him to make you cum. Your body was twitching with the need. "Be quiet, slut. I had a rough day," He hissed, bullying the toy inside your pussy all at once. "The only thing I want to hear from you is more begging," He left it resting against your sweet spot again, relishing in your pleasured cry.

Watching your toes curl as you bucked your hips up, he knew another orgasm was building. The way your expression crumbled when he abruptly removed the toy almost made him cum.

Scaramouche watched you pant and shake on the bed, shutting the toy off and tossing it aside. He stroked his cock to the sight of your weeping, abused hole clenching around nothing.

"Scara, your cock..please," You whined, reaching down with shaky fingers to rub your throbbing clit. You got little relief because he batted your hand away.

He gave your clit a few soothing rubs, making you moan in bliss. You were a vision, drooling and needy for him. He could barely take his eyes off of you as he reached over to grab a clit sucker. "Hold this on your clit while I fuck you dumb," He ordered, putting it in your hand and flipping you over onto your stomach.

Angling your hips up, Scaramouche smacked a hand across your ass. Your legs shook as you put the toy on your clit. You mewled, the stimulation of the toy making your eyes roll closed as jolts of pleasure curled through you.

"I have been waiting all day to fuck this tight cunt of yours," He groaned, hissing in pleasure as he pushed his cock inside of you. Hearing you cry in relief as you feebly pushed your hips back made him set a ruthless pace.

"Fuck, I am so deep," Scaramouche didn't hold himself back, his skin slapping against yours as he gripped your hips, occasionally squeezing and smacking your ass.

You could do nothing but lay there, your face buried in the pillows and drooling as he pounded his cock inside of you. Your shameless moans only drove his cock more accurately into your sweet spot.

The added stimulation of the toy on your clit made your walls clamp tighter around his cock. "Shit, you are suffocating my cock," He smacked your ass again, moaning as his cock throbbed between your walls.

You yelped in pleasure, making him laugh blissfully. He watched as his cock squelch in and out of your messy cunt. You nearly screamed one last cry of pleasure before your release gushed around his cock.

You sobbed in relief, clawing at the pillows, your body aching from the dull pain of overstimulation. His thrusts turned sloppy, continuing to pound his cock into your abused hole until his cum gobbed inside of you.

Scaramouche groaned in relief, putting his hand on yours to hold on the toy on your clit. He still had a little more frustration to work out as he fucked his cum back inside of you.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #modern au #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

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nishloves · 5 months

Text

drunk; kim mingyu

mingyu x reader // words : 1k approx. genre : teeth-rotting fluff. warnings : too many kisses and life cycle of malaria, very slightly jealous gyu too // unedited.

you stumbled as you spilled water on your shirt, a dopey smile on your face as you tried to close the recyclable plastic bottle- only to turn the cap in wrong direction and dropping the cap in the process.

"shit-" you giggled as mingyu stared up at you, his eyes wide like saucers as his mouth fell agape on your ministerings.

"are you alright?" he asked, his eyes on your wet shirt as he looked up at you quizzically.

"mingyu~" you whined, a grin on your face as you stagger towards him, a stumble in your unbalanced steps as you tripped; mingyu was fast on his feet, his arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you on his lap while you giggled, making his lips quirk up in a smile too.

"are you drunk?" he laughed as you squished his face between your hands, you lips making a pout as you attached your lips with his, "mwah!"

"why do i think that you're drunk?"

"pak pak pakak!"

his eyebrows shot up in amusement as a huge laughter bellowed out of his chest, his eyes lining with tears as he endearingly laughed on your quite accurate representation of a hen.

"hehe~" you giggled as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"i don't smell any alcohol on you though-" mingyu said, tucking back a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"i am not drunk- that's whyyyyyy," you whispered in his ears.

"it sure doesn't seem like that-"

"won't you believe me?" you pouted, your eyes crinkling up in a perfect puppy eyes as mingyu cooed at you, nuzzling your nose with his, "i believe you."

"as you should!" you grinned up at him, "i am just very happy- i get like this when i am happy."

"what made you so happy then?" mingyu asked, his eyes soft as he admired your face, his heart beating at a rapid pace as he noticed just how close you are to him; mingyu had heard that sometimes you did get extremely silly and almost in a drunken like state when you were extremely happy and it was so contrasting to your normal calm personality that mingyu couldn't help but dote on you- at every given second.

"just-" you started saying but stopped, your brows scrunched up as you leaned in and connected his lips with yours for a short kiss again, your silly smile returning back to your face as you continued, "just because i am happy!"

"you are?" he asked, caressing your cheek.

"yes, i am! and oh! do you know the life cycle of plasmodium vivax?"

"life cycle of what-"

you rolled up your sleeves and puckered your lips, coughing to switch to your singing voice as you started, "when a mosquito bites a human! ow ow, she spits sporozoites in his blood! ew ew! then the little rascals travel up to our liver cells and multiiiiply till our cell bursts!"

"bursts!?"

"oh yeah! then they travel up to our rbcs~ travel yeah! reproducing asexually to bursts our blood cell so that we get a fever!"

"reproduce in our blood!?"

"mhm! and when the female mosquito bite bites us- fertilization take place in her intestines!"

"this isn't rhyming."

"then she bites us again and dun dun! you have malaria!"

"i love you," he said, his eyes soft as he stared at you, a genuine smile lacing his lips.

your lips froze as you grin up at him, engulfing him in your hug and squirming in his lap you said, "i love you too~", it seemed as if your senses had returned after his sweet confession and now heat rose to your neck and cheeks as you melted in his touch, hiding your face in his chest as you murmur, "sorry- sorry if i was being annoying."

when mingyu had not replied for a few seconds you looked up at him, a frown evident on his face as he looked away from you, "you would never annoy me."

"then why are you upset?" you asked as you tilted his face towards you; his face still in a pout and a frown as he sighed.

"how could you ever annoy me? and-" he paused.

"and?"

"and..." he breathed, his cheeks slightly red as he asked, "just how many have seen you in such adorable state?"

your eyebrows and lips quirked up in amusement as a smile broke out on your face, chuckling you made him face you, momentarily taken aback at how freaking handsome your boyfriend was.

"how many?" he asked again, his voice in a whisper as you almost cried because of how cute he was.

"many people- my friends, family members and some of my exes have seen me like this," you said, noticing his frown deepening as you kissed his jaw, "but..." you said.

"but?"

"you will be the one to see it the most, and the only one from now," you smiled at him as you saw his frown morph into a grin as he giggled alongside you, stretching his pinkie towards you he asked, "promise?"

you intertwined your pinkie with his, "promise."

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hqbaby · 9 months

Text

two — still winning

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.7k content. fwb, swearing

He doesn’t care. Why would he? He’s not your boyfriend or anything. You’re just two close friends who happen to fuck sometimes. You’re a grown woman. You’re allowed to go on dates with guys… who aren’t him.

“What is wrong with yer face,” Aran says. He reaches out to touch the corners of Suna’s lips. “Smile!”

The boy just scowls at him. “What are you doing?” he says, yanking his friend’s hands away from his face. “Don’t touch me.”

Aran bursts into laughter. “Yer so serious!”

“What’s goin’ on with ya?” Osamu prods, launching himself onto the couch between the other two boys. He pokes a finger to Suna’s cheek. “Ya break up with yer girlfriend or somethin’?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“If she’s not yer girlfriend, then why don’t ya tell us her name? Doesn’t matter if we know now, does it?”

Suna sinks deeper into the cushions and groans. “Will you guys just be quiet for once?”

“Such a grump.” Osamu sighs, slumping against the couch’s arm. “Anyway, what’re we doin’ over the break?”

“Kita and I are headin’ home before trainin’ starts,” Aran says. “I miss my bed.”

The gray-haired twin hums. “I’d go home too but I got that internship comin’ up.”

A pillow lands on his face.

“Quit braggin’ ‘bout yer internship.”

“I’m not!”

As the two of them bicker, Suna takes his phone out of his pocket. He pulls up your chat and reads your last message to him.

y/n the love of my life: nah i have a date

His eyes linger on your contact name. You set it up, obviously. The two of you (read: just you) were baking a cake in his kitchen (and failing miserably because his only contribution to the effort was distracting you with memes). You had asked him to send you a video he found of a bird freaking out when its owner “disappeared” behind a blanket because you wanted to show it to Oikawa and tell him that’s what he sounded like when Iwaizumi left him alone.

“Y/N L/N?” you gasped, reading the name he had you saved as. “Is that all I am to you?”

He burst out laughing when he saw how offended you looked. “Are you seriously upset?”

“Duh!” you said. “You’ve literally been inside me. And I’m just ‘Y/N L/N’ to you?”

“That’s your name isn’t it?”

You glared at him. “I’m not letting you have any of the cake.”

“Good. I’m pretty sure I’d get food poisoning anyway.”

“Rin!”

He laughed again, holding his phone out for you to take. “Fine,” he said. “Change it to whatever you want.”

A devilish smile appeared on your face as you took the phone away and started typing. He tried to see what you were doing, but you just pulled the screen closer to you so he couldn’t look. “It’s a surprise,” you told him. “Can’t ruin it.”

“You type really slow.”

“Your dick is microscopic.”

“Hey!”

With one last look at your handiwork, you gave him back the phone. “There,” you said. “Now, it’s accurate.”

He glanced at his screen and smirked. “Gee, you got a big ego.”

“Yeah. Bigger than your dick.”

“Stop talking about my dick!”

He tries rationalizing your “date” in his head. It’s not like you’ve mentioned liking anyone, he doubts it’s anything serious. He figures that you just decided to make plans because he was supposed to have plans. That’s probably all there is to it. You’ve done this before. It’s not any different from the other times. It’s not like he cares anyway, he has no reason to.

“Where’s Atsumu?” Aran asks, pushing Osamu’s feet away as the boy tries to stick them in his face. “Thought he’d be here after his test.”

“He came home earlier to get dressed, said he was goin’ out tonight,” Osamu says, trying to get his feet in Suna’s face this time. “Dunno where he thinks he’s goin’ without us.”

“Probably has a girl.”

“Doubt it.”

“Ya never know. Some girls like an airhead.” Aran pretends to swoon, forcing himself on top of Osamu. “‘Oh, ‘Tsumu! Yer so dreamy! Have my babies!’”

The twin’s hand lands in his face, pushing him away. “Gross,” he says. “Well, if Suna can get a girlfriend, I guess ‘Tsumu can too.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend then.”

Osamu is rewarded with a firm kick to the groin.

“I’m tellin’ ya! It tastes great!” Atsumu insists. “Ya just haven’t tried it yet.”

Your face is a mix of both disbelief and amusement. “Uh-uh,” you say slowly, laughter threatening to spill from your lips. “I guess I’ll have to find out the next time I crave cereal with orange juice.”

“I’m serious! Don’t knock it ‘til ya try it!”

You laugh. “But why would I want to try it?”

He shakes his head and makes a faux serious face. “It’s in the pulp,” he explains, gesturing wildly as he tries to convince you that no, this is not a crazy person thing he’s saying right now. “Ya mix it in with the fiber and it just makes the flavor pop, y’know?”

The two of you burst into laughter.

The date’s been going well so far. You’d be lying if you said Atsumu’s the perfect gentleman because he isn’t. He talks while he eats and bulldozes through his meal without an effort to look proper in any way. He didn’t bring you to any of the nicer places on campus where the guys usually take girls that they want to impress, but the restaurant has its own charm. It’s cozy and warm and Atsumu talks to the owner of the place like she’s his own grandmother. He’s clearly a regular. And the food’s great too.

He’s fun to be around, you think. He’s, well, a regular boy with the usual quirks, but there’s a sweetness to him. Like you know he means well. What you see is what you get, and you don’t mind what you see at all.

“You’re on the volleyball team, right?” you ask when the conversation lulls as the two of you eat.

“Yup,” he tells you eagerly. “I plan on going to the Olympics.”

“Wow. That’s big.”

“It is. But it’s also what I’ve always wanted to do.”

You nod in understanding. “I have friends on the team. Your schedules get crazy sometimes, don’t they?”

“Yeah, they do, but we love it,” he says with a smile. “Who’re yer friends? I probably know ‘em.”

“Oikawa and Suna—I mean, I’m not really friends with Suna,” you correct yourself. “We’ve spoken a few times.”

“No kiddin’!” he exclaims. “They’re both great—just don’t tell ‘em I said that. Suna’s actually one of my best friends, went to highschool together and everythin’.”

Your eyes widen. “Seriously? What a coincidence.”

He chuckles. “Can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

You nod and smile, but you can believe it. You and Suna live in separate worlds most of the time. The only way you’re technically supposed to “know” each other is through Oikawa and you barely get involved with that part of your friend’s life anyway. It makes you wonder, though. What kind of person is Suna with his friends? Is he any different from the Suna that you know? Maybe you wouldn’t even recognize him.

The rest of the dinner goes on without a hitch and Atsumu drives you back to the dorms after.

“I had fun,” you tell him, digging into your purse for your key. “You shouldn’t have paid though. I’m the one who owes you.”

He waves it off. “Ya can always pay next time.”

The corners of your lips curl upward at the bold remark. “Next time?”

“Well, if that’s… y’know, somethin' ya wanna do,” he says sheepishly. “Would ya? Wanna do this again, I mean. Soon maybe.”

He looks at you like a little boy with hopeful eyes, an image that doesn't entirely match his rather large physique. It’s endearing. It’s sweet. And you decide that you might actually grow to like this boyish side of him a little.

“I have practice tomorrow,” you tell him. “And we have a team dinner after.”

His face falls slightly, trying to hide his disappointment. “Oh, sure. No, I get it.”

“How does coffee sound to you then?”

He lights up at that, face bursting with joy. “Sounds great,” he says. “Meet ya at the quad?”

You nod. “I’ll text you when I’m free.”

“Cool,” he says, still beaming. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” you say, reaching up to plant a kiss on his jaw. “Night, ‘Tsumu.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You unlock your door and step inside, waving at him one last time before closing the door behind you. You lean against the wall, a kaleidoscope of tiny butterflies already gathering in your stomach as you sink to the floor. It’s a new feeling. Interesting, but nice.

Buzz. Buzz.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to find a text from Suna.

rin: how was the date?

you: pretty good actually

you: i’m seeing him again tmrw

rin: nice

Suna feels the urge to chuck his phone across the room. “Nice.” That was his great response. He groans, feeling like a bumbling fourteen-year-old again. He didn’t like being fourteen at all. -3/10, not an experience he’d ever recommend.

He looks down and reads your message again. You’re seeing the guy tomorrow. That’s soon. You just had your first date and you’re seeing him again. It must’ve been something special, Suna thinks, and it makes him feel sick.

His phone pings. Another text from you.

y/n the love of my life: can i come over?

He stares at your words for a while. For a moment, he’s convinced that his mind is playing tricks on him, that he’s just seeing what he wants to see. Then, he smirks, knowing that of course it’s real.

Somehow, he’s decided that, though the guy might be special, it means something that you’re going to end up in Suna’s bed anyway. He doesn’t know exactly what it means, but it means something. It means: Mystery Guy 0, Suna 1. He still comes first, he wins this time. And that’s all that matters.

It makes him feel better than it probably should, but he tries not to think about that. Not now at least.

notes. i'm gonna let u know rn that all the characters in this series are dumb college kids w big feelings and no idea what to do w any them. today is suna's day to be oblivious to his emotions but everyone's gonna get their turn eventually 😩 (also the spice starts next chapter hihihi)

#hqbaby.fyi #hqbaby #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fic #suna fic #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fic

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4ft10tvlandfangirl · 5 months

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You know what's incredibly upsetting? Seeing so many pro-Israel or pro-Zionist posts parrot that the only reason anyone could be pro-Palestine or call for a free Palestine is because they hate Jews.

I know what this tactic is meant to do and I know how making people apathetic, how discrediting their knowledge of a topic or questioning the genuineness of their empathy and other similar tactics are used to benefit the oppressive group but it's still pissing me off.

I am a descendant of enslaved people.

Our history lessons always begin with the slaughter & genocide of the indigenous peoples that were here first, primarily the Taino, who thankfully have a few descendants living in isolation along with the protected Maroon villages. It is normal throughout high school to take history trips to former great houses & plantations and see for ourselves the sites where our ancestors were brutalized and massacred; the weapons and tools of torture preserved and on display so that we knew but a taste of what they went through.

My university is built on the grounds of a former plantation. There are businesses and homes built on top of mass graves & on top of sites of slaughter. There is literally no escaping our colonial history because it touches everything. Our last names are not even our own! Most of us have English, Scottish and Irish last names given by the plantation owners to our ancestors. Or you know...because many children were the product of rape. We cannot accurately trace our true heritage more than 4-5 generations back because most families have no complete records.

A lot of you like to bring up grandparents. Cool. My great-great grandmother was the daughter of a mulatto free woman and a white Scottish sailor. She was white passing. Because land and work were hard to get here under colonial rule, she left the island for a better life with her husband who was a Cuban born mulatto and they ended up living in the US through WWII and after. They were considered an interracial couple (black & white rather than both being seen as mixed) and could not live in certain places because it was illegal. Papa couldn't find work, was treated horribly, because he had darker skin but Grandma found work passing as white and was treated much better. She worked 2-3 jobs to provide for them and their 5 children.

But, there were times when she would appear darker like if she was out in the sun too long or her curls would start to show and a Jewish neighbour/coworker suggested to her it might be safer to tick Jewish on forms rather than white if her race was ever questioned. I suppose due to that kindness the family formed friendships within the Jewish community where they lived & Grandma's eldest son actually married a Jewish woman. His kids and grandkids are all Jewish and they still live in the US.

I share this specific thing because I have very real concerns for those members of my family. But while I worry for them in this time of increasing anti-semitism and absolutely decry any verbal/physical attacks against them, I am still going to speak against things that are wrong. What Israel is doing is wrong. Of course as a non-Jewish person I can acknowledge I may misstep and if I say/do something that is genuinely anti-semitic I'll take the correction. But if your aim is just to intimidate me into silence it's not going to work.

And trying to tell me 'well black people are not welcomed there or black people wouldn't get treated well in Palestine' as if that affects the cost of bread. Guess what? Black people face racism everywhere. Even among our own and colonialism has a lot to do with that. That same grandmother, I was fortunate to grow up with her in the latter part of her life after she returned to the island and every time I went out with her there were questions of whether my family worked for her. Or why was I, this little black girl with this little old white lady as if I meant her harm. She had to say proudly, "This is my granddaughter." How other people view me or treat me isn't going to stop me from speaking up for what's right.

With the history of my people I could never ever ever side with the oppressor. Ever. Whether its here in the west or in the east, whether it's happening to my fellow black people, or any other group of people, I cannot in good conscience stand with the oppressor. My ancestors were forcibly stripped of their humanity, called savages, animals, barbarians and all of that was brutally beaten into them. That same language and similar acts of brutality are being used against Palestinians today.

You think you can cower me into staying silent on that? With unfounded accusations of hate? I refuse.

N.B. - my use of the word mulatto here is strictly to provide the historical context of how my grandparents were seen/classified and spoken of. It is not a term we use.

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pennylanefics · 4 months

Text

To Be Loved - Laurie Laurence

a/n: my first laurie fic! :D i'm pretty happy with how this came out and glad that i was able to actually write it out. bear in mind i haven't written anything like this in months, i also am not super confident about the dialogue because of the time setting and everything, so it may not be the most accurate, but i hope you enjoy! :)

summary: you get insecure about things with laurie late one night

word count: 2,427

warnings: slightly negative self talk here and there

Candlelight casts a warm glow over the silent and chilly room, the time well past midnight, but you and Laurie were wide awake. This has been a normal occurrence for the past few weeks, as you two got to know each other and started sneaking around.

Since the day you arrived at the March household to stay with your aunt and cousins, Laurie had taken a liking towards you. The moment he saw you taking a walk with Jo in the grassy area between their two houses, he couldn’t help but feel drawn towards you.

Maybe it was the way your hair blew in the wind, or the color of your dress, which happens to be his favorite color, violet, or the way the sun shone across your face, your eyes squinting just to be able to see Jo.

Whatever it was, Laurie couldn’t get you out of his head. So one day when he saw you reading underneath the tree, he approached you. Now, as it has been a couple months since your first meeting, you two are completely smitten.

And sneaking around behind your family and his grandfather’s backs.

That’s where you find yourself late at night, when all of your cousins and your aunt have fallen asleep, you sneak out and run off to Laurie’s to curl up in his bed and just talk, maybe kiss here and there, and mainly just be in each other’s presence.

The slight chill in the air is due to the falling temperature of autumn, cooler nights when the sun has gone far below the horizon, but Laurie was more than prepared. He laid a couple more quilts on top of the one he uses every night, knowing that as much as you love the weather, you hate being too cold.

“When are you heading off to Europe again, hm?” You ask, reaching up to stroke Laurie’s cheek. He hums softly in response, his eyes fluttering shut as he relishes in your tender touch and nuzzles into it.

“I don’t plan on going,” he states simply, sighing in response, hating that he has been reminded of it all during a time where he wants no other thoughts than you.

“And why is that?”

Your question seems to upset him as he quickly rises, your hand falling away from his cheek, and he walks over to sit on the window sill, staring out at the pitch black scene, aside from the single candlelight on the porch of the March household.

The room remains silent as he collects his thoughts, questioning if he should tell you his true thoughts or not. He turns back around with his hands in the pockets of his sleep pants, his eyes taking in the sight of you laying in his bed, a sight he would never grow tired of.

“I love you,” he whispers. Instantly, your blood runs cold and you’re sitting up, more alert and aware than you were five minutes ago.

“What?” All you can manage is the single word, your heart starting to pound in your chest. You could feel your hands getting clammy with your rising panic, despite the coolness of the room and it being well below sixty degrees. Laurie stands there, staring, tears becoming evident in his tired eyes.

“I love you, (Y/N). I do.”

“I told you not to fall in love with me,” you murmur in response, scooting to sit up in bed and bring your knees to your chest, “it wasn’t a joke.”

“How am I not supposed to when we spend countless nights tangled in each other’s limbs, faces so close that I can feel your breath against my lips, yearning to kiss you, to cherish you, to make you mine, to hold you like that forever.”

“Laurie, I’m no good for you. You deserve someone better.” Your eyes finally meet his and a defeated expression takes over his features, his small smile dropping into a frown and his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion.

“There is no one better, (Y/N). You are so perfect and I don’t know why you don’t see that.”

“Because I’m not! I’m no one. I come from nothing. I have nothing to offer you, I came here to ask Jo for help in becoming a writer so that I could make somewhat of a living for myself, a-and, I can’t provide for you.”

“You wouldn’t have to provide for me, my love-”

“Don’t call me that,” you interrupt. Secretly, you loved it, the second it falls from his lips you are swooning, but you simply can’t admit that.

It terrifies you.

“You really have not thought the same? Nights like these mean nothing to you?” His voice holds so much emotion. His question silences you, and tears form in your own eyes as you watch Laurie break slowly from the inside.

He was trying his hardest not to reach out for you and pull you into his arms in a tight hug, it’s all he wanted to do. He wanted to hold you, to kiss you over and over and whisper how things would be okay and that they would work out. But he stands his ground.

“They do,” you sigh in defeat, casting your eyes to your hands just as a few drops spill over your eyelashes. “But…”

“But what? Why can’t we be together?”

Again, you have no clue what to say.

“Money means nothing to me, if that is the issue. If not, please tell me what is. I want you, (Y/N), please.”

“I can’t! I just can’t!” You finally cry out, and this time, Laurie does take action.

He rushes back over to your side, wrapping his arm around your body and softly shushing you, wondering what was going on in your mind. He didn’t say anything, though, he just comforts you in this time, making sure you feel safe and cared for.

“I can’t provide a love you deserve,” you choke out, your voice broken and strained from crying. “I don’t know how to love someone, I would not know how to properly show you or give that to you.” Laurie is a little taken aback by your admission. Out of all the things that could have been wrong, he did not think this would be it.

“Isn’t that the beautiful thing about love, though, figuring that sort of thing out together? Learning about one another on a more deeper level, the way we like our tea or coffee prepared, what makes us tick, what helps us fall asleep. All of it. And I want that with you.”

By now, you moved your body to face Laurie, meeting his eyes as he speaks so quietly and eloquently. His hand raises up to your face to brush a stray piece of hair away from your eyes and tucks it behind your ear, though his hand lingers on your cheek.

“Please, (Y/N). I know you are scared, but it would be so wonderful to have the chance to show you how to love.”

The sincerity in his voice was very clear, and it was making your heart race in your chest. Slowly, he leans forward and gently presses his lips to your forehead, his eyes fluttering shut as he remains there for a moment before pulling back a little.

He then moves on to kiss the apple of your cheek, being as sweet as ever, making sure that not one inch of your face goes unkissed. Your breath catches in your throat and the feeling of bliss spreads over your body as the idea of what was happening finally settles in.

Laurie’s lips trail even further down your face to focus on your jaw, going from your chin to right below your ear, but he takes it a step further. After a small pause, he moves his attention to your neck, however, they are no longer soft and careful kisses.

He picks one spot that sends a slight shiver through your body, chuckling lowly against your skin. His warm breath and soft, pink lips felt so nice, you completely forgot what you were talking about just moments ago.

Laurie takes a chance and bares his teeth, nibbling the skin of your neck for just a few seconds. A gasp flies out of your mouth and your hand comes up to tug at his hair, like it was a natural thing for you to do. He lets out another laugh at your reaction and goes back to kissing all over, soothing the area with his tongue for a fleeting moment.

“Stay with me,” he mumbles through kisses, not wanting to stop just yet, but he needed to. His head rises to look at you, his beautiful green eyes shining in the candlelight, something you’ve grown so fond of seeing, so much that you prefer seeing him in this limited lighting rather than daylight; he appeared so angelic at this time of night and in such an intimate setting.

“Laurie…” you breathe out, sniffling a little even though your tears have subsided with his kisses, “I just want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy,” he replies with no hesitation at all. The sincere look in his eyes returns, but as does the watery glaze, the realization that you could be close to walking away from all of this. “You make me so unbelievably happy, (Y/N). I don’t think you understand. I don’t want anyone else, you are it for me.”

“But how do you know? There could be a wonderful woman waiting for you to sweep her off her feet in Europe, looking for someone who cares so deeply and will love her unconditionally, and I do not deserve that.”

“You do deserve it, mon chéri.” The new pet name sends a warm feeling throughout your chest. It felt so personal and heartfelt, and stuns you a little to the point where you freeze. “You have no idea how wonderful you are. You are the woman I want.”

His words finally sink in and it prevents you from pushing him further away, your tears once again making their way down your cheeks, but Laurie is quick to brush them away with his thumb and comfort you.

“Hey, hey, shhh,” he coos, bringing your head into his chest as he lays you back down with him, allowing you to cry again for as long as you need. “It’s alright, my darling.” He just lays there, his right hand gently stroking your back up and down as a way to soothe you, but then he starts to hum some tune quietly.

The smooth sound of his voice and almost shy touch to your back was lulling you to sleep, but you knew this conversation wasn’t quite over just yet.

“You still there?” He asks quietly, not wanting to wake you if you had happened to fall asleep. His hand raises and starts messing with the ends of your hair, combing his fingers through some of the knots, trying to be as careful as possible to not tug at any too hard and cause you any pain.

“Mhm,” you mumble into his neck, the scent of his cologne still lingering from earlier in the day, a scent that you’ve grown very fond of, one that you could smell a thousand times over and never get tired of.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You hesitate to answer his question, but you know he needs an answer of how you’re feeling. Sitting up, you take a deep breath and look out the window, not moving from his side.

“I…care for you so deeply, Laurie,” the words begin to spill from your lips, and by the tone of your voice, Laurie is preparing for the worst. He sits up with you, though he scoots away just a little, ready to be rejected, like he has been before. “And I want you, I do. If you are okay to take me as I am. A young woman with no sense of direction in her life, no fortune to share, no insane wealth of knowledge or talent like my cousins or any other-”

Laurie is quick to cut you off with a kiss, silencing you to prevent you from speaking down on yourself anymore. His slender fingers cradle your cheek, a stream of tears still falling and melting into his warm hand.

The kiss lasts for a few seconds, Laurie not wanting to pull away just yet. But when he does, his forehead presses against yours, his breath fanning over your face, reminding you of all the nights spent with him, and how you have fallen for him just as much as he has fallen for you.

“You should not speak of yourself like that. You are incredibly smart, a very talented writer, and remarkably beautiful, might I add. Any man would be so fortunate to have you, I promise you that.”

“Then consider yourself very fortunate, Laurie,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on your hands for the moment, too scared to look up at him yet. However, he takes matters into his own hands and raises your chin up with his knuckle, sending butterflies flying throughout your stomach.

A small grin stretches his lips, his green eyes shimmering with adoration as your feelings finally come to light.

“I will be by your side through everything. I love you and I am here to prove that, my darling. And I could not be more joyful that you are giving me the chance to guide you and show you what it means to love and to be loved. Everyone deserves it, especially you.”

“I love you,” your voice comes out slightly strained, fearing that it would be the wrong thing to say. “And I know I don’t know what it means just yet, but I have never felt this way with anyone before, and while it is a scary feeling, I can tell that it is so special and magical.”

Laurie chuckles quietly and kisses you once more before laying back down with you in his arms, closer than any other night you’ve spent with one another, but it felt natural.

It felt right.

“It is very magical, and I promise to show you all the beauty in it, and love you as you deserve to. Because if there is one thing that I know for sure in this life, it’s that you deserve the world, and I promise to give that to you, my darling.”

#laurie laurence #little women #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence imagines #laurie x reader #laurie laurence imagine #theodore laurence #little women fanfic #theodore laurie laurence #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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