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#and I was crying so then I was more worried I was going to crash but I was fine and also I got gas I hate pouring gas they need ppl that
neoarchipelago · 3 days
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Haven't properly written in a while... This writer's block is destroying me...
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Simon Riley getting hurt on his bike.
Like he has a mild crash because of a dumbass doing a U-turn and got smashed.
Bike is ruined, arm is bleeding from rubbing the asphalt. He just gets up, groaning because, shit, that bike is too weeks old. Walks like a boss but the old lady has already called 911 and is crying apologizing. Simon feels suddenly bad for his internal 'dumbass' comment. Paramedics tend to his wound, the old cop scolding him for driving in leather pants but in t-shirt.
"What kind of two half ass protection is this son?"
"What?"
Simon just feels a migraine rushing to him.
He gets a ride home from Soap who he called. Best buddy wouldn't shut up either but he loves his Johnny like his own brother so he lets him ramble.
He walks up to the elevator, saying bye to an over worried Soap who just groans and curses in his own babbling.
The elevator's doors close and silence finally settles. He runs his temple with his left hand through the balaclava, the right one holding his leather gloves and being bandaged.
His right arm stings, but he had much worse. Nothing a bit of bourbon couldn't erase. The pounding of his head needs to shut up too. The doors ding and he groans.
He walks to his apartment's door, fumbling the keys and the sound of a door slowly opening is heard behind him.
He glances back, pretty soft eyes looking in his direction. Ah yes. The neighboor.
"Hello Mr ril-... Oh god... What happened?"
He almost wants to chuckle at the worried expression.
" 'ust a scratch..." He mumbles, the words rumbling with his low tone.
But the footsteps he hears makes him sigh and he turns around looking down at the pretty Princess in front of him.
"Mr Riley! That doesn't look like a scratch... What happened?"
The pleading eyes, the worried expression does it for him, his eyes never leaving yours as he automatically mumbles:
"I crashed the bike."
Your eyes widen in shock again. He feels bad. You look even more worried now. He didn't even know that was possible and it somehow breaks his heart.
"Oh sh-...hum"
Hmm... She curses? He never heard her curse. It's adorable.
"Please tell me you're ok... Are you hurt anywhere else? Why didn't you call me? I mean-"
God that blush is cute. How can you be so cute? He wants to just put you under a glass case and keep you in there. He'd get lots of flowers and moss. You'd be his fairy-
"Mr Riley?"
She tilts her head to the side.
"I'm fine. No broken bones."
That seems enough to make her sigh of relief. But suddenly she grabs his good hand and she tugs softly towards her still open door.
"What?"
Simon is floored that this is the only thing he manages to say.
"You can't stay on your own! You just got into a crash! You need to be looked after!"
"What?"
He wants to punch himself now. Don't you know any other words Simon Riley?!
Also, why is he walking behind her like a lost puppy she's softly tugging on the leash of?
Why is he inside her apartment? With the door closed?
How did he end up sitting on the couch? With a cup of tea and cookies.
"What?" He asks again.
She giggles.
"What do you want for dinner? I'll let you decide what you want I'll go prepare the guest's bedroom!" You happily jump to your task after he nods.
Simon looks around, the warmth and cozy space, the plants and the weird cat staring at him from the window sit. He kinda looks at Simon the same way Simon is looking at him. With the same expression that says:
"What?"
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cloneboywonder · 9 months
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#I gave my mommy a bartskull for her car and she hung it up right away :3#my student cancelled so I didn’t go hang out so I just went right to my moms and we went to Starbucks and to a couple stores#and then we went home and planned costume stuff#and I wanted a hair cut so bad and the only appointment they had was like IMMEDIATELY so we left and then me and my mom both got one#we look so good I love her#and then we went and got lunch w her husband my buddy and then I hung out w Andy and we watched law and order I love barba I love making#like ytp sounds when he comes on screen and andy repeats them I love goofer to goofer interactions#and my mom was tired so she went to sleep while we watched and then when she got up we started costume stuff for real#we have like 3 of the pieces half done but we need to go get a special foot for the sewing machine or something#idk she’s the genius I’m just there#me and Lydia are gonna look so so so insane at the Boston concert I’m so excited#I need to make a bunch more bracelets I want to just give them away again#and it stormed super bad on the way home I was worried my car was going to get struck by lighting and I was scared I was going to crash#and I was crying so then I was more worried I was going to crash but I was fine and also I got gas I hate pouring gas they need ppl that#like pump it for you bc I don’t want to anymore#ough tk mom is waking up so early and I told her to call me so I will also get up early bc I need to most time possible to costume work#bc I have to be on a plane in like 6 days lol WITH THAT COSTUME in my suitcase#ough okay I love personal diary posting my apologies#my posts#byeeee byebye :-)
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years
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...
#hhhhh tomorrow i have to drive to another uni to build a chamber#this morning i drove like 11min down the road and that was enough to dislodge me halfway outside my body#i just. hate driving so much. its so fucking stressful#and im also worried the chamber isnt gonna come together with what we have#and i dont wanna drive down there again#oh god. i need to chill out so i can sleep tonight#it just stresses me out so much. anytime i have to drive i just become absolutely certain that im gonna get into an accident#or that ill get distracted and cause a crash#why cant we have a working train system in this fucking country. i wanna go back to the uk. where its more manageable to not have a car#when i think abt driving my brain just sends me images of destruction#i also get it to a lesser extent when im a passenger#like i have to sit exactly as ur supposed to in a seat or else i just get horrible imaginings of my limbs being crushed or whatever#god. i just hate it so much. i have a fragile mind. i was not constructed with the mental fortitude to drive#at least i dont get so many intrusive thoughts abt like flipping rhe steering wheel anymore. bc that sucked#hopefully i dont show up in tears but usually i cry at least once when i have to drive someone#so im gonna look unhinged when i drop off all the equipment. whatever ill wear sunglasses#how is it possible some ppl enjoy driving? i dont understand. i dont want that kind of power in my hands#i dont trust myself not to get someone killed. like that's prob my ultimate fear. getting in a crash caused by my brain not being able to#focus and then i kill a happy family of 5 or something and i just have to live with it#it just makes me so upset. which is why ive been avoiding this for literally months.#ugh. whatever i have to do it. and then itll be over. as my mum would say: itll b good for me#i just have to freak out abt it for a while#unrelated
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 4 months
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Competing With Gods
Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader, Apollo x uninterested!Reader
Request: Hi could you write luke castellan x reader, where Luke gets jealous of a guy who tries with y/n? How would he react if y/n is at the game? Thank you
Summary: When Apollo is sent to camp as a punishment, he sets his sights on Luke's girlfriend.
Warning: Fighting, jealousy, making out, the slightest allusions to/implied smut, Apollo being a dick
Word Count: 3k
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A/N So instead of another camper or whatever, I’m making the other guy Apollo.
Apollo crashed into the ground of Camp Half-Blood. Right in the middle of all the cabins. Great. He briefly cursed Zeus for this. He was being punished for flirting with a nymph the big guy was interested in. And when Apollo had told his father to maybe focus on his wife, Zeus banished him to Camp Half-Blood for a few weeks as a “warning.”
The Half-Bloods began to peek out of their cabins but one girl was already rushing over. Her hair fell over her shoulder so nicely as she kneeled over him. Okay, maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad. She gave him a concerned look. “Are you alright?”
“Now that you’re here,” he immediately started flirting. He enjoyed the way she immediately became flustered and jumped to his feet. She looked up at him in bewilderment. She saw him fall. She wasn’t a daughter of Apollo but he should have been suffering from at least a few broken bones. “I’m Apollo,” he clarified with a proud smirk. By now all the other campers within the vicinity were near enough to hear and kneeled. The girl did too, kneeling with a lowered head. He reached out a hand to her. She took it hesitantly, standing up. “Who are you, gorgeous?”
She became further embarrassed. How do I bring up Luke? She briefly wondered. “Y/N. Daughter of Aphrodite.”
“I should have known,” the god flirted. “What with those mesmerizing eyes.”
“Lord Apollo,” a voice interrupted him. He turned, finding Chiron trotting over. “My apologies, I was just notified of your arrival.”
“No worries,” the god smiled. The nice thing about not being around gods is that you get called things like Lord.
“Please,” Chiron began, gesturing over to a big house, “let me show you around. Your father has a few requests for you whilst here.”
“Of course he does,” he rolled his eyes. He turned back to the girl. “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he winked.
As he left all the campers were left in shock. Especially Y/N. And even more so, her boyfriend. Luke went up to her, finding her still in astonishment. “Sooo… that was weird,” he began, trying to not show his jealousy.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Was Apollo just flirting with me?”
“Yes!” Silena gushed as she ran up to her best friend/half-sister. “Oh my gods, a god is interested in you!” She then seemed to notice Luke and remember their relationship. “Oh- uh. Sorry, Luke.”
He just gave her a tight lipped smile.
“Oh my gods, what am I gonna do?” Y/N asked, clearly stressed out.
Luke shrugged, again trying not to show his jealousy. “Not much you can do. It’s not like you can tell him to leave you alone.”
“If you really don’t want him then you can tell him you have a boyfriend. And a sister,” Silena suggested with a raised eyebrow.
Her sister laughed. “I was trying to think of a way to mention Luke. And Silena, you’re 16.”
“He looks 18!” she insisted.
“Even if he was actually 18 I’d say he’s too old for you. Come on, the bathroom still needs to be cleaned after Drew decided she wanted to dye her hair black.”
“Yeah well, she’s crying now because she wants to be blonde again,” Silena explained as the sisters walked back to their cabin.
Feeling mildly ignored, Luke yelled after them. “I’ll see you at dinner!”
Remembering her boyfriend, Y/N ran back to him, pressing a peck on her lips. “Sorry. I’ll see you later.” He watched her go, trying to not think about it too much. She never forgot to kiss him goodbye but he tried to chalk it up to the fact that she was shocked by Apollo’s appearance.
~
That evening at dinner everyone had noticed the “new camper” sitting at the Apollo table looking very unhappy. Chiron stood up and called everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we have a very honored guest staying with us for a while. Lord Zeus had requested that we treat him as we would any other camper.” As he finished he gave us all a long, hard look as if to say, “Don’t get yourself killed when his immortality is restored.”
Once dinner finished, everyone was at the bonfire. Luke sat on the ground, his back resting up against a log. His girlfriend was leaning up against his shoulder, her legs over his lap. His free arm would occasionally swipe the mosquitos away from her with his other arm supporting her weight. They were talking to a few other campers when Luke let his gaze fall onto Apollo. Some campers, mostly girls from Aphrodite, sat around the god, looking at him with cartoon hearts in their eyes. He knew for a fact Y/N had told them to stay away as a. they were all minors and b. he was a god and she didn’t want to deal with their broken hearts.
When Apollo’s gaze fell on the girl in his lap, Luke tightened his grip protectively. He knew it was ridiculous. Y/N would never cheat on him and he knew she’d slap any guy who tried anything, immortal deity or not. But he couldn’t help but be worried. Hell, he had nearly punched an Ares camper last year and that kid wasn’t a god. And Apollo was known for his womanizing ways.
He tried to shake it off and go back to his conversation but his brain was still stuck on Apollo. “Hey,” he whispered so softly that only the girl in his lap could hear. She turned and he immediately kissed her. She kissed him back briefly but pulled away, not a huge fan of PDA especially in front of the entire camp. But Luke persisted, gently holding her cheek and kissing her deeply.
When she finally pulled away for breath she looked at him quizzically. “What was that for?”
He smiled and shrugged. “What? I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” She just smiled, pushing his head away jokingly before going back to her conversation. But he was looking at Apollo again, hoping the god saw that kiss. If he did, he was playing it off.
Later that night, when the fire was extinguished and he had kissed the Aphrodite counselor goodnight several times, Luke was trying to sleep. Keyword: trying. Normally the several snores or creeks of the Hermes cabin didn’t bother him, but he was so on edge thinking about Apollo’s flirting, that every noise jolted him awake. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Apollo had immediately begun to flirt with Y/N and how she had seemed to forget him for a moment.
Frustrated, Luke crept out of bed. As he opened the cabin door, he checked for harpies keeping watch but found none. So he went to the Aphrodite cabin, knocking on the window right above Y/N’s bed. It took a few tries but eventually, she poked her head up, gesturing to shut up and that she’d be out in a minute.
So Luke waited until she came around the side. “What?” she asked, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. But her hair was already falling back to the way its usual flawless look, courtesy of being Aphrodite’s daughter.
“I just wanted to see you,” Luke smiled sheepishly. And make sure Apollo isn’t sniffing around. He realized he didn’t have a reason to be out here that didn’t stem from insane jealousy. She looked mildly annoyed at that so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed her. If he couldn’t get rid of Apollo, he could completely occupy her mind. So he did the only thing he could think of. He was pushing her up against the side of the cabin, one hand on her jaw, the other around her waist.
She had no clue where this came from but she gave in nonetheless. She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
After a few minutes of making out, she finally managed to push him away enough to get a deep breath in. “What was that for?” she asked, both of them still gasping for air.
Luke smiled, grabbing her by the hips to pull her closer. “‘Cause I love you.” He pressed the lightest kiss to her nose before stepping away abruptly. “Night, see you in the morning.” And with that, he walked away the happiest demigod in all of camp.
The daughter of Aphrodite still just stood there, completely taken off guard. The only thing that snapped her out of her daze was the faint caw of a harpy, making her quickly scramble inside. Luke ended up getting his wish as that night, the only thing on her mind was that kiss.
~
The next day was Capture the Flag day. When Chiron announced it at dinner that night, everyone lost their minds. It was Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, and Poseidon vs. Ares, Apollo, Demeter, and Dionysus.
As the couple was walking over to their cabins to get their armor, Apollo caught up with them. “See you out there, Y/N,” he said as he passed with a wink.
“S-see yah?” she called back hesitantly.
Luke was frustrated but at least she didn’t seem flattered by his flirtations. Now she was just confused.
Once they grabbed their chest plates, then went back to the creek where they’d be starting the games. As Luke put his on, she was struggling to get hers tightened. “Hold on, I’ll help you in a sec,” he said, finishing strapping his onto his body.
“I got it,” a voice interrupted. Apollo seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He was standing in front of Y/N, tightening the strap.
“Hey!” Luke yelled without thinking.
Apollo held up one hand in surrender, the other still on her shoulder. “Chill man, I’m just helping.” Luke didn’t say anything else as Apollo walked away with a slight smirk.
“Hey,” Y/N said softly, stepping closer to him. “What was that about?”
Luke gritted his teeth. “Nothing. C’mon, I need to assign everyone and talk strategy.” He took her hand gently, reminding himself to not let his anger get the better of him. He headed over, gathering the team. “Alright, Cabins 6, 3, and 11 will be offense. Cabins 9, 10, and 12 will be defense. Except for Y/N, you’re with me. Beckendorf, you’ll also be offense.” He pointed out a few Athena and Hermes campers, directing them to defense as well.
After a few minutes, the conch blew and everyone was in their places. The couple quickly jumped over the creek, slipping through the Apollo cabin’s defenses. They had done this so many times, their routine was well practiced. They ran through the woods, searching for any opposing defense.
The other teams had learned that Y/N and Luke always worked as a pair so they started also pairing defensive players. That is when Hermes and Aphrodite were on the same side. If they weren’t, Capture the Flag could go on for hours since they knew all of each others’ tricks.
They continued on, occasionally making quick work of disarming opposing campers until they reached the flag. It was only guarded by one person. Apollo. Clarisse must have figured that everyone else would be too afraid to offend a god. But Luke was honestly looking for this opportunity.
So while Y/N fell back, hesitating, Luke was jumping at the god. Apollo blocked him with a sword but he was clearly not very good with it. Archery had been banned since before Luke got to camp. Even though the arrows were enchanted not to kill, someone had been blinded so Chiron banned them forever. He didn’t even make an exception for the god of archery.
While Luke fought Apollo, Y/N was grabbing the flag. “Luke!” she yelled, waving the flag. She then took off, heading for their territory. Because of Apollo’s inexperience with the sword, Luke was easily beating him. After a few slashes on the god’s arms, legs, and even face—nothing major, they were honestly just cuts a band aid could fix—Luke was disarming him. He didn’t have to be as brutal as he was or knock him over but he did, throwing the god’s sword far away before following after Y/N.
Luke was still a few feet behind her when she hopped over the creek into safety. He watched proudly as she ripped the helmet off her head and held the flag up triumphantly. The members of their team around her cheered triumphantly as the conch blew and their team was announced the winners.
Luke was still in enemy territory, watching her have her moment when Apollo showed up. “She’s really something,” the god announced, his smile focused on her.
“Yeah, my girlfriend really is incredible,” Luke said pointedly.
The god was still smiling. “I know she’s your girlfriend. I saw you making out with her last night.”
“What were you doing out at two a.m.?”
The god looked even more smug, his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t have to answer to you. But if you must know, I had the same idea as you but you got there first.” Luke finally looked at him, rage once again filling his body. So he wasn’t paranoid. “How long have you been together?”
Luke was confused but answered nonetheless. “Uh three years,” he answered suspiciously.
“Aw, three years down the drain. I’m sorry in advance,” the god said in exaggerated regret.
Luke tried not to let his fury show. This is why he hated gods. They thought they could do whatever they wanted without regard for mortals. “Well, she loves me. At night she swears we were made for each other,” he said, recalling sweaty nights during the school year when every other Aphrodite kid was home. And how they’d make breathless promises of eternity.
Apollo gave him an almost pitiful look. “I’m sorry about your relationship but you can’t actually believe she’ll pick you when she could have a literal god?” he gestured to himself arrogantly.
Now it was Luke’s turn to gloat. He just shrugged, “I’m the one she calls for. She doesn’t call for the gods like most others would. She only ever says my name.”
Apollo was a little taken aback by the kid’s boldness. “Well, that’s the nice thing about being a god. I can make anyone mine.” And with that Apollo headed over to the capture the flag winner of the night. It took everything in him not to race up to her but he kept his composure. She’d have to reject him on her own, he couldn’t keep running defense.
He watched in surprised satisfaction as Apollo reached her. He congratulated her before pulling her into a hug. His arms were around her waist and creeping kind of low but Luke once again kept his resolve. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until she pulled away quickly, pointing over at him. What was she saying? Was she praising him for fighting the god? Or telling him that she had a boyfriend?
Apollo tried to hug her again but she ducked under his arm, running over to him. He immediately broke out into a smile. Her arms were opened to hug him but he just grabbed her face to kiss her instead. He turned her towards the tree he had been leaning on, pressing her up against it again. He only pulled away slightly to whisper a congratulations but then their lips were connected again. When he finally pulled away, he threw an arm around her shoulder, shooting a look to the god before heading off to their celebration.
That night as they were celebrating, Luke was glued to Y/N’s side. It wasn’t until some of the other Hermes boys needed help getting their illegal video game working again that Luke left her side. “I’ll be back,” he promised her, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
As soon as Luke was gone, Apollo was swooping in. “Congratulations again,” he said, handing her a drink.
“Thanks,” she smiled nervously, taking the drink. “How are the cuts?”
Apollo shrugged. “They sting more than I would’ve thought but they’re fine. Your boyfriend’s a hell of a fighter.”
“Yeah,” she chuckled, relieved that he was acknowledging she had a boyfriend.
“I mean, he’s good for a mortal. He’s certainly no god,” Apollo flirted.
“Well, none of us are. Present company excluded,” she laughed nervously, gesturing to him.
Apollo casually threw an arm around her shoulder. “There’s other things we’re better at,” he said, letting the implication hang in the air. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. “Have you ever been with a god, Y/N?”
She was immediately pulling out of his grasp. “I- uh… um no. I’m flattered but…” She had no clue what to say. She couldn’t just say no to Apollo. If this were any other man she’d throw her drink in his face but this was a god.
She didn’t have to say anything because Luke had seen the whole thing. As he came back he saw Apollo throw his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and subsequently watched her back away quickly. “I told you she loves me,” he smirked before tugging her away. She gratefully pressed herself into his body.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, careful that Apollo couldn’t hear.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. This is kind of my job as your boyfriend.”
“Still, you basically told him to back off. Kind of bold to deny a god.”
“Yeah, well,” he began, brushing a hair back from her face, “if he smites me we’ll just have to make up for the lost time in Elysium.” She giggled, hugging him closer as they headed off to bed.
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rafecameroninterlude · 3 months
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader
summary: rafe surprises you on your birthday
warnings: best friends brother, sarah being the worst friend ever (what else is new?), crying, firting over the phone, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex
word count: 2.8k
a/n: i’ve seen your comments and ik y’all want reader to stick up for herself against sarah, so don’t worry that’s in the works!! i’ve been feeling a little sick but i’m going to try to keep up with requests as best as i can <3 mini series masterlist can be found here
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“is everything okay?” ignoring the fact that sarah just cancelled your plans, on your birthday, you refused to hang up the phone without getting a conversation that lasted less than two minutes. “w-what do you mean?” you heard the faint sound of someone laughing in the background, a door shutting loudly on the other line. “you’ve never missed any of my birthdays, and tonight you cancel after reassuring me all week that you’d see me? not to mention two weeks ago when we were supposed to go on the druthers, you said you’d be back home later, but you never showed.” you hated how you sounded like a concerned parent more than a friend, but right now you just wanted answers.
“everything is fine, y/n,” sarah scoffed, “i mean, seriously, i’ve just been busy, alright?” you don’t know if you should feel relieved that she’s fine, or hurt because she’s obviously not interested in talking to you right now. with ward, rose, and wheezie out of the house for the summer, there was no valid explanation as to why she goes days, sometimes weeks without being home. unless of course, rafe was right about her spending all her time on the cut. “have you been staying on the other side of the island?” you couldn’t help but ask, the question lingering in your mind since rafe mentioned it two weeks ago. “oh, my god! do i have to tell you everything? you’re worse than topper.” she hung up before you could say anything else.
what the fuck?
she’s acting as if she has never been like this before. was it a crime that you were worried about your best friend who you haven’t seen in three weeks? sarah once showed up to your house at three in the morning because you sent a crying emoji instead of a laughing one. it’s hard to think about, the person she was then, versus now. you felt your eyes stinging, your vision getting blurry as the tears threatened to overflow. god, this was pitiful. if someone told you that you’d be here, your hair and makeup done for the gods, holding back tears because of sarah, you wouldn’t believe them. the amount of things that have changed this past month was starting to crash down on you at once.
with sarah gone, and your parents away for their anniversary trip, the last thing you wanted to do was wander in a party by yourself. ultimately deciding to stay in for the night, you laid out your pajamas, about to unzip your dress before your phone rang. unknown caller. “hello?” there was a few beats of silence, “y/n?” your heart fluttered instantly. “hey, rafe.” you sniffled, trying to clear any indication that you’ve been keeping yourself from crying. “what are you doing tonight?” his voice turned rough. “i was just about to get in my pajamas.. why?” he cleared his throat, a small seed of hope burying itself in your chest. “let’s go to mine. i have something for you.” as if you couldn’t smile any harder, you could count on rafe to beat the odds. “what if i said no?” you teased, knowing you could never say that to him.
“then i’d have to go home to an empty house and no birthday girl to give birthday dick to.” you sighed dreamily, eyes glancing up at your ceiling. “aren’t you the gentlemen?” you got up, thankful to see that none of your makeup smudged. “so where are you right now?” you reapplied your lip gloss, running a brush through your hair for the final time. “outside your house.” you paused. “are you really?” you peeked outside your window, a black truck sitting out front. “i’ll be right out.” you hung up, screaming excitedly, grabbing your purse before making your way outside. rafe met you half way, picking you up and putting you in the passenger seat.
“you’re telling me you were about to change out of this?” his hands rested on your hips, your head leaning against the seat. “yeah, but i rather you take it off of me instead.” he smiled, pulling you into a kiss. “i rather do that too.” he shut the door, the car ride back to his house consisting of him making you laugh. “why’s it so dark in here?” rafe lead you upstairs, skipping past his room. “where are we going..” you stopped in your tracks. “ward’s room?” you shook your head, feeling like you were trespassing in some weird way. “don’t worry, keep walking.” he opened the doors to the balcony, the breath being sucked right out of your lungs.
a small cake with pink frosting and the number twenty in gold accents sat in a little box on top of the table, a vase full of your favorite flowers right next to it. “how..” you turned around, rafe rubbing his hands against his jeans. “i knew it was your birthday today, which explains the cake, and i may or may not have stalked your instagram highlights for any flowers i could find.” you blinked, throwing yourself in his arms. “this means so much to me, rafe. thank you.” you let out a shaky breath, your emotions getting the best of you once he pulled back to cup your face. “hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he sat you down, his eyes flickering between yours. “i just wasn’t expecting any of this, i’m just really grateful that’s all.” you smiled.
rafe nodded, pulling a small gift bag from under the table. “i really want to see you open this.” he placed the bag in your lap, giving you a reassuring nod when you looked at him. with shaky hands, you removed the pink tissue paper, a velvet box revealing itself at the bottom. rafe adjusted in his seat, his eyes frantically moving between you and the gift. “rafe..” you opened the box, immediately being met with probably the best gift you’ve ever received. “i’ve heard you talk about this a lot, so i figured why not?” he shrugged, “do you like it?” he watched you pick up the silver bookmark, the words ‘pretty girl’ imprinted in cursive lettering on the back.
“i love it..” you truly had no other words. placing it gently inside the box, you got up, rafe pulling you on top of him, both of you smiling into a kiss. how did he know how to do this? make you feel special and wanted and appreciated all at the same time? you deepened the kiss, his hand squeezing your thigh. “should we cut the cake?” you hummed, shaking your head, “let’s save it for after.” rafe pulled away. “after what?” his hand snaked around your neck, “after you give me birthday dick, your words.” you yelped when he suddenly yanked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you inside. “can i confess something?” he walked through the dark hallway, basically kicking open his room door.
you nodded, leaving a trail of kisses across his neck. once he laid you down, he took off his flannel, his biceps flexing under the small light emitting from his bathroom. “i’ve been reduced to fucking my hand every night since we had sex on the druthers. “all i could think about these past couple of weeks is how perfect you look under and on top of me,” he spoke quietly, “have you been thinking about it too?” his shirt was next to go, and the harder it was to resist from moaning at the sight of him. “yes,” you sat up, pulling him down to sit at the edge of his bed, “..that night replays in my head everyday.” settling between his legs, your fingers worked at getting his belt off.
“but the thought occurred to me one night;” you slid his belt out of the loops of his jeans, “you’ve tasted me already, but i haven’t tasted you.” as if on cue, you placed his belt next to him, using his knees to anchor yourself back on your feet. he groaned, watching as you moved your hair to the side. “take my dress off?” you turned around, unknowingly facing the mirror on his wall. without hesitation, he unzipped your dress, his eyes growing dark as he looked at your shared reflection. “nothing underneath?” this was a bold move for you, so you were more than happy to see how much he liked the idea of you walking around, ready for him to take you at anytime.
“nope, just wanted to save you the time.” you smiled, his hands cupping your tits, a soft gasp escaping from your lips. “we have all the time in the world.” he gently bit the skin of your neck, spinning you around. he pulled you down with him, your hips straddling his as you unbottoned his jeans. “i like your makeup,” rafe’s rubbed his palms on your thighs, “such a shame it’s gonna get ruined.” you smiled, rafe sitting up to kiss you roughly. kneeling on the floor, rafe held your hair back as you looked up at him, palming his cock through his briefs. “you gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he grunted, your eyes fluttering, “mhmm.” you hummed, rafe extending his hand out in front of your mouth.
“spit, baby.” he commanded. doing as he said, you laid your head on his lap, watching as he started stroking himself, both of you gazing at eachother with heated stares. “please, rafe.” he moaned, his head lolling to the side. he was still tugging on your hair, the stinging sensation shooting down your spine. he stood up, discarding the last article of clothing keeping you from being fucked into oblivion. you opened your mouth for him, a string of curse words tumbling out as his tip met your tongue. “oh, fuck,” be gritted his teeth. you straightened up, making sure to keep your eyes on his, a moan rumbling in your throat as he pushed further.
rafe licked his lips, his chest rising and falling as you started bobbing your head. if you had to be on your knees just to see the way he fell apart with your mouth alone, you’d do it all night if he asked you to. your eyes started to water, rafe smiling at the sight. “tap me if you need to.” he pulled out, thrusting back in once you nodded. fuck. your hands flew out, holding the back of his knees as he tugged at your hair, hard. “you’re taking it so fucking good,” his muscles constricted, your pussy clenching around nothing. the only word you could think of to describe the noises in this room was obscene.
heavy breathing, gasping and moaning, even an occasional whimper when you swallowed around his cock. “y/n-” he shook his head, his eyes rolling back just as you patted his leg. rafe stopped all movements, pulling out of your mouth with a wet pop. “i don’t want you to cum yet,” you stood up, your knees beet red as he pressed his thumb against your bottom lip. “yeah? want me to fill you up instead?” his words went straight to your core, a single tear drop rolling down your cheek. “yes.” your voice was hoarse as he laid you down, your arms wrapping around his neck to kiss him.
rafe teased your entrance before sliding between your folds, his cock rubbing against your clit. you shivered at the contact, your hips chasing his in order to get more friction. “it’s going to be hard to stop doing this, you know,” rafe looked down at you. “i wouldn’t care about sarah’s opinion on this, and i don’t think you should either.” he stared at you intensely as you pondered over his words. “you wouldn’t care about her opinion on us having sex? or..” your heart was racing, hoping he’d pick up on what you were insinuating. “well, that too, but i mean something more, more than us just sneaking around.” you met his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips.
“are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” rafe laughed. “no- well, yes, but not formally yet, i want to do that the right way, not when you’re under me waiting for me to fuck you.” you bit your lip, nodding your head. you could never get used to how good his body felt on top of yours, your toes curling as he pinned down your thighs. “you’re so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your temple, “this pussy was made for me.” rafe slammed into you once you settled into his sheets, a strangled cry ripping itself from your throat. it didn’t help that rafe was already filling you to the hilt, but watching his mouth fall open, and his eyebrows knit together was just as rewarding.
any concept of time was lost when you were with him, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. you loved how intimate rafe was, swallowing your moans with every kiss, massaging your thighs when he would thrust into you particularly hard, he was so good at this, you couldn’t even think straight by the time you were teetering the edge of pure bliss. “rafe, don’t stop.” you held onto his frame, his fingers circling your clit as you felt the pit of your stomach drop. “o-oh, my god,” you shook in his hold. “rafe!” you gasped. “i know,” he moaned, “fucking hell, i know.” his hips stuttered as he cummed, his eyes screwing shut while he emptied himself inside of you.
he took your lips, still thrusting slowly as he steadied you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. eventually he came to a stop, both of you laying under the sheets. “did you mean what you said earlier?” you rolled over, facing rafe as he sighed sleepily. “about being something more? yes.” you smiled as rafe took your hand in his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles. “should we go for that cake?” you asked. “that sounds so good right now.” both of you got up, sharing the sheets as cover, about to leave the room until your phone started ringing. rafe was quick to pick it up from the floor, his jaw ticking as he looked at the screen.
“who is it?” you reached out, rafe blocking your attempt to grab your phone. “it’s sarah.” he declined the call, tossing your phone on the bed behind him. “come on, let’s go get that cake.” he ushered you towards the door before you stopped him. “it’s nearly three in the morning, rafe. she could be in trouble.” he stared at you for a moment, sighing as he nodded his head. “alright.” he stepped away. you pressed sarah’s contact, putting the call on speaker. she picked up after the third ring. “y/n?” you knew that voice. after fourteen years of being best friends, you knew when she was crying, even when she wasn’t in front of you.
“what’s wrong sarah, are you okay?” you stole a glance at rafe, ignoring the roll of his eyes. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry y/n. i haven’t been a good friend, and i’ve been keeping so much from you, my family… topper, i can’t handle all the lies anymore.” you felt yourself growing with empathy, rafe taking hold of your arm. “don’t fall for that shit!” he whispered. “i didn’t even tell you happy birthday!” sarah sobbed, “please let me make this up to you.” you don’t know why, but you looked up at rafe, who was shaking his head. taking a deep breath, you racked your brain for what you should do.
the fact that you had sarah on the phone, while standing in rafe’s room, naked at that, you felt like you were betraying one of them with either answer you gave. if you told sarah yes, then it would be like a slap to the face for rafe, but if you told sarah no, you’d be throwing away a friendship that grew into a sisterhood over the years. “we could have a movie night. for old times sake.” she sniffled, your own tears starting to well in your eyes. “y/n.” rafe stroked your hair. this wasn’t easy, at all. “okay.” you regretted it as soon as you said it, rafe’s hand falling to his side. “okay, that sounds good.” it pained you to see the way rafe was looking at you right now.
“friday at eight?” you gave her a quick ‘yes, i’ll see you.’ hanging up shortly afterwards. “rafe-” he slipped into some shorts, walking out of the room without a word. there was no winning in this situation. you plopped down on the bed, still wrapped in rafe’s sheets as you sat in silence. after about five minutes, rafe walked in with two plates of cake. he handed you one, sitting down next to you. “i won’t hold it against you,” he spoke up, “i just wish you could see what she’s doing.” you licked some frosting off of your finger. “i’m sorry.” you leaned your head on his shoulder. rafe hummed, “don’t be. i’ll let you find out by yourself, and i’ll be there with an extra plate for you when you do.” he rubbed your thigh.
you laughed to yourself. “thank you.”
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kombuuuu · 11 months
Text
Somethin’ Soft for someone Tough.
Earth 42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader
“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”
i ❤️ miles and he is so bf uhuh (i’m insane put me in a cell)
also he’s soooooo a simp in this, none of that ihu typa love his mama raised him RIGHT
warnings: injury, stitches, medical practices from someone who doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, some angst, slightly suggestive at times
I dot NOT speak spanish so if anyone is willing to help with translation for future fics, I would owe my life to you (and give early release? i dunno wtv u want babygirl)
Miles didn’t understand your hurt. He didn’t understand why you hated him being the Prowler—, didn’t understand you crying when you found out. Or your shame and disappointment when it came to his..
-Profession.
It confused him, he did this to keep you safe. He’d already lost enough, he can’t lose you. He won’t. You just didn’t get that.
Having you be mad at him, loath him, despise and detest him for being Prowler. It was easier than you dead because he wasn’t.
He would rather you hate him, than only have your memory.
So when he came home to you sleeping in his bed, waiting for him to return to you only two weeks after his initial reveal, he did nothing but lay down next to you and let your hand slowly drag into his. Interlocking your fingers in a twisted pattern of forgiveness and relief.
And he didn’t try to understand why.
It was warm this night, the heat of a summers Sun leaving Brooklyn a mucky kind of hot. Sweat dripping down the flesh of those still dwelling outside so late, only taking solace in the rare occasion of a breeze through their clothes.
Which is why you felt ever grateful lying in an air conditioned apartment dawned only in a pair of your lovers boxers and a ribbed white tank top.
It was the pair you bought him a while back when browsing street stalls, decorated with little cats and hearts. You thought they were funny, he was not impressed (but he was happy you were happy).
Miles had been out a lot lately. Assignments, as he called them, had been increasing in frequency as of late. Willing you more and more worried about the boy you loved, he just kept coming home injured.
Which you endearingly (aggressively) scolded him for, tones of care seeping into your monologue of being safer with his job whilst he huffed and puffed begrudgingly.
Assuring you he was nothing but careful,—
“Mami, ¿por qué iba a ser imprudente con mi vida cuando te tengo a ti para volver casa a? Alguien tiene que cuidar de ti.”
"Mami, why would I be reckless with my life when I have you to go home to? Someone has to take care of you."
A bashful murmur of “Just be more careful.” Would only reward you with a hand on your waist and the beginnings of a smile. You sighed out in boredom, draping a hand over your forehead dramatically. Spread out on Miles’ bed awaiting his return that’s seemingly taking years.
A crash outside your (boyfriends’) window alerted you out of your position, the piercing sound of metal scraping against metal grating your ears. Shooting up from your laid position, you messily shuffled off the bed, almost tripping over yourself to get to the figure struggling beyond the glass. A heavy claw dragged the window open with the apparent little strength it had left, heavy breaths and short rumbles of discomfort reaching your ears.
The neon pink of the Prowlers mask greeted you, quickening your aid in slamming open the window and catching Miles’ stumbling body from toppling through.
A husking groan sounded from your sweetheart as the mask slowly peeled back, revealing the trails of blood creeping from a cut in his lip.
“Hey, mami.”
Miles was gorgeous, he was a still picture of a painted deity in living form. The plump of his lips dripping a slow streak of burgundy did nothing to taint the sight of him, you wished it had, maybe you could be madder.
“Miles, what happened?” Your concern had outweighed your admiration, you were now fretting.
“I tripped.”
You scoffed something unbelieving, smiling despite the ache in your chest at the poor sight of him. Your emotionally stumped man.
“C’mon, baby, come inside.” Your right hand caressed the side of his face, left collecting his claw adorned fingers in yours to help him through and into his room.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he stepped over the sill, sucking in a breath and hoping you didn’t catch it.
Glancing up at you from his hunched position, you gaped back at him, unimpressed but worried.
He dropped your hands, the clasps on his gloves clicking, and the metal dropped to the ground with a dull thud. Pushing his arms back and letting his backpack fall too, he cracked his neck and winced again.
You all but pouted at him, reaching for his hurt body in discontent.
He leaned down to put his head on your shoulder, breath tickling your neck as he peppered you with light kisses, nipping your skin in just a graze. He wasn’t one to usually be so affectionate, but his guard always lowers with you, shoulders dropping and pulse quickening.
“No está tan mal, ma.”
"It's not so bad, ma."
His hand lifting from out of yours and onto your waist, circling the exposed skin between his boxers and your shirt.
His boxers,—
—,his hand twitched.
“Not that bad?” Your hushed voice bled of concern. “There’s a gash in your side!”
The simple serenity he had found buried in your neck had been ripped away from him in an instant.
You all but hauled his body to the bed, urging him to sit down against the sheets whilst he sulked grumpily behind you. Pushing against his chest and sitting him down.
You ran to his bathroom, washing your hands thoroughly before opening the cabinet under the sink, reaching back to the first aid kit you had placed here for this exact reason and towel, you rushed back to his room and shut the door behind you. “Amor, It’s just a—“ Cutting himself off, he hissed and cursed some under his breath.
“No digas que es sólo un corte.”
"Don't say it's just a cut."
“Mi sol, I have suffered worse.”
“Let me stitch you up, Miles.”
You turned back, shooting him an exasperated look while you threw the towel. Miles catching it without much effort and putting it under him. Flipping open the latch on the kit you sat yourself next to his bed, knees underneath you and digging harshly into the scuffed wood. You grabbed everything you assume you’d need, setting it on the open lid of the kit and focusing back on Miles.
“You look good like this, mami.”
You choked slightly, glaring up at him.
“Take off your jacket, Morales.”
"Sabes, si querías que me desnudara..."
"You know, if you wanted me to undress..."
“One more word.”
“Understood.”
He groaned as he did. Jacket falling off his shoulders and onto the bed, he pushed it to the floor beside you and spread his knees. You shuffled closer between them, lifting his shirt enough to see the damage on his torso and sighed shakily when figuring he was right.
It was just a graze, but a damn deep one. On the right of his torso, falling just under his ribcage was a thin, deep gash.
“What were you cut with, Papi?”
His stomach clenched as you prodded around, checking the wound for any signs of oncoming infection and signalling for him to take his shirt off.
“A knife, probably.”
Despite the weary of the situation, a smug look adorned his face. You poked his stomach, him wincing.
“Figures.”
You hid your smile.
He slipped his shirt over his head, grimacing at the pull of his wound. You took it from him and set it aside, getting an unopened bottle of water from the kit and pouring it over the cut. The water ran through the blood, trickling down his abs and soaking the waist band of his pants, he tipped his head back, groaning lowly in pain.
“Mami, entiendo que estés enojada, but please be gentle.”
"Mami, I understand that you're angry, but please be gentle."
He gazed down at you lazily, the drawl of his accent coating his voice syrupy in light of his injury. He looked downright sinful, braids draping lazily and shoulders dropped. Leaning back on his palms with his legs spread.
“I am gentle.”
“Sure.”
You focus returned to his wound, grabbing a clean hand towel and patting his cut dry, gently.
The occasional hiss or moan would interrupt you, but other than that Miles stayed relatively quiet. Watching you work as you fixed him.
“There, all done.”
“Not gonna kiss it better?”
You huffed, amused as you started to put everything back where it belonged. You could change the sheets and dispose of the hand-towels tomorrow, right now he just wanted you.
Miles grabbed your waist as you stood, hands slipping behind you to shove you forward into him. He buried his face into your stomach and sighed. You giggled lightly, the lack of a smile on his face tagged with the need for your touch was something no one but you could get used to. Your hand slowly trailed up his bare back, nails scratching lightly at his skin. He shivered, tightening his hold on you further.
“Lay down, baby.”
He whispered your name, “Chiquita, you take such good care of me.”
Humming, you unhooked his arms from you and pushed him to lie back by the tips of your fingers.
“Gon’ spoil you after this.”
You grabbed the towel, surprisingly dry and dropped it to the floor with the other discarded items.
“You already spoil me, Papi.”
Miles kicked off his shoes, sparing you a glance and a hum at the endearment.
“‘S’cause you deserve it.”
He unbuckled his belt, threading it out through the loops and threw it to land somewhere. You dragged the corner of the quilt back up to the both of you, stopping halfway. Miles sighed in annoyance, huffing at his pant button and cursing it as he fumbled to pull his pants down.
You giggled, “Need help, baby?” He scoffed lightheartedly. “I got it.”
“Mhm.” He eventually did get it, pulling his pants off and over his legs, coughing slightly at the wind crushing his cut had caused him.
“C’mere mami.” He grabbed your thighs, dragging you on top of him. “Mm—“ “Shh, it don’t hurt.” You let yourself relax slightly, mostly leaning on your need as not to hurt him.
The stars in his eyes as he looked up at you, he sighed quietly.
“It’s hot baby, we’re gonna get all sweaty.”
“Hopefully.”
“Miles.”
You rolled your eyes in a laugh, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Mm, there. Now you’re all better.”
He rubbed shapes into your thighs, loving the proximity. The way your breaths mingled and skin stuck together.
He thanked the Moon and the Stars for letting him keep you, begged every day to anyone out there that could hear him to tether your souls and kill him have he ever lose you. Would kill a million men to keep you safe, and he’d already had a running start.
He cleansed himself of his sins with your love, showering in the light you provided for him, and watched the blood of any man drip from his fingertips and into the rivers you’d created in his veins. Letting it mix with his own and beat by the tone of his heart. Which only ever raced for you. Only beat for you. He could only live for you, your love and acceptance.
Of which Miles would never understand why you loved him, and he would never try to.
“Much.”
He laid down, you following. Lying your head on his chest and listening to his breathing stutter at the contact.
It was late now, far later than a healthy time to finally sleep. But nothing could break the bubble of ease that now seemed to suffocate him. Lulling him into a slumber with his love against his heart.
first fic shoulllllf probably be fluff b4 i angst again
as angst is all i’m good for
i literally don’t know how to write fluff so pray it was good
IF ANY TRANSLATIONS WRONG PLESASSSSSE CORRECT ME
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ashtavula · 3 months
Note
I am dragging this out, but I love the kiss scenario. Okay, so, let me set the scene. The overblot gang overblots, and almost as soon as they come out of it their S/O would run over to them embrace them, and kiss them in pure relief and joy at them being okay. Reactions?
I am so sorry for taking a while to get to this ;~;
cw: spoilers for all the overblots under the cut
Overblotters react to you kissing them in the aftermath
Riddle:
-He feels like crying. Scratch that, he is crying. When you rush up to him, he immediately reaches out to you, and sobs into the crook of your neck. He blubbers out countless apologies, his words blurring together. Then, you kiss him. You can taste his tears, and he lets out a whimper, his knees buckling. You both crash to the ground, and he continues to cling to you, like a child seeking reassurance. Know that your presence is extremely comforting to him. and that he's more than grateful that you're there even in one of his darkest moments. Even as Ace begins to yell at him, he snuggles close to you, his tears staining your shirt.
Leona:
-You nearly knock him off his feet when you suddenly tackle him. He lets out a huff, and wraps his arm around your shoulders. "Easy, herbivore. No need for all that," he grumbles. Still, he lets you pull him into a kiss. As the others start declaring that they're going to wipe the floor with him in the spelldrive tournament, he takes their ribbing with ease. But you can feel the way he leans on you for support, and you can see that he's more exhausted than he's letting on. Later, he'll collapse on top of you, and sleep until well past the morning, cradling you in his arms.
Azul:
-When he comes to, the first thing he sees is your worried face hovering over him. You gasp, and immediately embrace him. Azul blinks, willing away the tears that are starting to form. You kiss him, and he lets out a muffled whine. He feels pathetic, but your affection is comforting, to say the least. You break away, only for Floyd and Jade to come in to ascertain if Azul truly was alright. Later, when you see the picture of him as a cute, chubby kid, he'll do his best to cover your eyes, and he'll blush when you coo over how adorable he was. Maybe...you don't actually mind how weak he used to be.
Jamil:
-He sighs, and rolls his eyes when you kiss him. "Being worried about someone like me, even after this... You really have no sense of self-preservation, huh?" Despite his harsh words, he holds you close, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. "I'm glad you don't," he mumbles, sagging against your body. When Kalim tries to hug him too, sobbing, Jamil pushes him away, and yells at him. But as he raises his voice, he still remains with you, even covering your ears to make sure he won't hurt you with his volume. When all of this is over, he'll worry about you changing your mind, and deciding that you can do better than a servant who's betrayed his master. For now, though, he's content to have you close, and maybe he'll give you a few more kisses in private to reward you for staying despite everything.
Vil:
-It's over. It's all over. He's shown you the absolute worst side of himself. The petty, jealous, downright ugly part of him hidden deep within his heart. He's fully expecting you to say it's over. So when you instead rush into his arms, crying out in concern for his well-being, he's uncharacteristically silent. He only recovers when you kiss him, showing him proof of your continued affection. He cups your cheek, idly stroking your skin, and he lets out a huff of laughter. He can still feel your kiss on his lips as Malleus repairs the stadium, and as he dances and sings on stage. When it's all over, he'll return to you, weary, but somehow happy. "Come, my little blossom. Stay with me for a while. After all, a queen is nothing without her loyal king."
Idia:
-He's shell shocked, for more reasons than one. Seeing Vil's wrinkled face, losing Ortho again, and now? Now, you're clinging to him and giving him kisses. He stutters over his words, his hair flaming up to a rather familiar pink as his hands flail. He's not sure if he's embarrassed about you kissing him in front of everyone else, or if he's just relieved to still be on the receiving end of your love. After a few moments of unceremonious floundering, he gives in, leaning into your embrace. He sighs deeply as the others start calling out for him to fix the system and seal the gate. Can't he just stay in your arms a little while longer?
Malleus:
-His arms are slow to wrap around you, but he tightens his grip when you tug him into a relieved kiss. He feels...oddly empty inside. He did all of this to keep Lilia, you, and everyone else with him forever. And he figured that this might have been the end. You'd seen just how possessive he could be, and how powerful he was. He wouldn't have blamed you if you'd been scared of him. But here you are, in his arms, right where you belong. Still loving him, despite the things he put you through. He pulls you closer, almost crushing you against his chest. "Don't leave me. Please..."
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bunji-enthusiast · 2 months
Note
Slides you a paper, simple lil request
Reader is talking to Dogday and not watching where their going, they nearly fall off a ledge but Dogday, catching them, decides they don't need to walk and will thus be carried.
Ps. Lil Dogday with legs idea ^^
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Note || combining these two requests cause I can.
Sypnosis || your companion seemed to be very strong, carrying you in spite of your protests.
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DogDay –
Being as it is, you were hurt. Badly enough as it is, he was beginning to get worried. On the off hand, you had done so much for him already, giving back his legs so he could walk and even freeing him way before that. Your body seemed to be sorely injured, yet you always pushed on. You always liked helping people and toys alike where you can, so as long as they were sane and not conceivable in the far off ends of pure insanity after being in the factory for so long.
DogDay was, in a way, very impressed with how you managed to get so far. But now, he simply wasn’t having it.
“I swear, ‘Go back to bed, you’ll feel better in the morning’ haha–” You wanted to continue, being so enthralled with talking to DogDay who was tentatively listening to you as you two had made your roundabouts yet other things had occurred. With a yelp escaping you, you slipped and fell.
“AH!” You closed your eyes, seeing you tripped off of a ledge. Suddenly, you realize that someone had caught you. DogDay, he held you close to his chest, as if he was fearing you would get hurt again. “Angel, you should take a break from walking for a while… ok?” DogDay had tilted his head slightly at you, as if he wanted to be sure you had heard what he said.
You nodded, a little caught off guard by this sudden change in his outward personality. As if he was taking on the role of a protective familiar member, it gave you a sense of nostalgia. You sighed as your head laid against his chest, noticing the fact one arm of his was cradling your legs, the other holding your back.
“Ah fine…”
CatNap –
The crash was terrible, leaving you on the tracks numb and in pain. You didn’t understand what was happening, only blacking out and leaving the realm of the conscious for a period of time (though seemingly it felt very long). Your dreams felt terrible, running away and trying to scrape by at every possible moment. Though it was relief enough when you realized you were just asleep, though one thing had remained strange however. 
Were you… being carried by someone, you didn’t get a good look at the said body. You blinked your eyes, trying to tide away the blurriness ebbing at your peripherals. You cry out when you finally make the connection, CatNap, the one you had seen before all those years ago before being recalled was carrying you. 
Like a kitten being carried by the scruff apparently? You couldn’t get a good look.
‘Gods… it hurts.’ you thought to yourself, knowing full well wherever that CatNap was carrying you was not going to be a good or even convenient location in any case. You were slightly panicked, but more put off by how heavily you could hear CatNap breathing. “You really need to work out..” You pause for a moment, feeling the pain sharp in your skin like thousands of thousands of needles rubbing straight in. “More often.” At this, CatNap paused, causing you to think he was probably surprised at your choice of words. Oh, the look on his face was one you most wished to see right now.
Though he had finally resumed, continuing to walk despite the fact he had just paused for a good minute or so. 
You wonder if he was truly well intentioned at the very moment.
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happy74827 · 6 months
Note
hey pookieeee, how about mike and reader are like new to dating and mike just got his job at freddy’s fazbears pizzeria as night guard. and he has trouble paying the bills and stuff and taking care for abby. and reader is like lemme help you. and mikes like no i got it. just rlly angsty to fluff? if you get what i mean? thanks xo
Resolute Hearts
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[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: All you wanted to do was to save him from drowning.
WC: 2883
Category: Angst to Fluff, Happy Ending
I absolutely adored this request. I hope you were serious about the angst, because it is there and it is heavy 🫠
『••✎••』
Tears…that's all you could feel. You felt them running down your cheeks, and you could feel your lips trembling as you sat on the tile floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The surrounding air was thick, a suffocating feeling. It was hard to breathe. Your head felt light, and your vision was a blur. You took in deep, shaky breaths, trying to hold back the sobs you desperately wanted to let out.
You never thought you would feel this way. It was like everything you had worked for your entire life had fallen through. It was like nothing meant anything to you anymore. Your life, your family, your friends. They didn't mean anything to you. You didn't care about them. You were alone, and the only person you cared about didn't seem to care about you back.
The apartment was dark and quiet. You sat in the bathroom, the door locked, the lights off, the fan running to block the sound of your tears. Your roommate had left hours before, saying she had an early morning class. You didn't know why they even had classes so early in the morning.
It felt like decades had gone by since you sat there on the bathroom floor. The bathroom tiles were cold and uncomfortable. You were cold and uncomfortable. You didn't feel like yourself. You weren't the type to get so worked up about anything. You weren't the type to sit on a bathroom floor and cry over things you couldn't fix. You were the type to keep your head held high. To smile through everything, even if the situation was tough. To be the rock for your friends to lean on.
But, you felt alone. You felt so alone.
Michael, Mike. Michael was the one who made you feel alone. You loved him. God, you loved him more than anything. You loved him so much. You loved how caring he was. How sweet he could be. How considerate he was. You loved every inch of him and every inch of what he did for you. He was so considerate of your feelings; he never pushed you to do things you weren't ready for. So, why did his words hurt you so much? Why did his actions make you feel so small and worthless?
Why?
It had only been a few months since you started dating, and everything seemed to be perfect. He was charming, sweet, and an all-around amazing guy. You were so happy with him. He was everything you wanted in a boyfriend, and you were over the moon with how everything was going. He even seemed to care for you; at least, that's what you thought.
He had been distant for the past few weeks. You found yourself seeing Abby more often than you did Mike. You would wake up, and he wouldn't be there, only to find him passed out on the couch or working on a late project in the kitchen.
He said he was fine, but you knew he wasn't. You could tell he wasn't okay. You knew something was bothering him, but he never opened up to you about what it was. You thought about telling him it was okay. That he could talk to you about anything, he didn't need to keep it bottled up. He didn't need to worry you like that.
You did eventually open your mouth to say something about how he was feeling, but before you could even get the words out, he shut you down. He said he was fine that you were overreacting. That you needed to worry about yourself more and stop thinking about his feelings all the time. You just needed to trust him.
You believed him. You foolishly believed him until it all came crashing down. During one of your many late nights babysitting Abby for him, you accidentally stumbled upon papers that he left on the coffee table. One of which was a delinquency notice dated back to last week. He was behind on rent and had a couple of other bills that were due soon. You didn't want to add to his stress, so you figured it wouldn't hurt to try and help him with those.
Apparently, it did hurt. It hurt enough to make him snap at you when you decided to approach him the night before about it. Abby was tucked into bed in her room for the night, so you decided it would be a good opportunity to talk to him just as he was about to leave. How stupid you were. How naive. You didn't know what he was going to say, but you had no idea he was going to get so angry. So angry, in fact, that it ended up waking Abby up.
You felt your stomach churn at the memory of his voice getting louder, your name getting harsher, the tone of his words getting angrier.
"I said I can take care of myself, just like I've always done." He was livid, his face red with anger. He was trying to keep his cool, but it seemed that it was just too much for him. "Why do you have to get involved? Just butt out, alright?"
"I just want to help, Mike. You shouldn't have to pay for everything on your own. I just want to be there for you, like you are for me," you said, reaching out for his hands, but he pulled away from you.
"I don't need you to take care of me. I can handle this on my own. I've been doing this on my own for a long time," he told you, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't want to be touched, you could tell.
"You're right," you admitted. "You're an adult; you've been taking care of yourself for a long time, and I shouldn't try to change that. But I'm here, okay? I'm here for you and for Abby. And I'm not trying to take care of you; I'm just trying to help you. Just let me help you."
"What the hell do you think this is?!" Mike practically screamed at you. "You think this is easy?! You think I don't want to get out of debt, huh? Do you think I like being in debt? I don't! But it's my fault, and it's my job to take care of it!"
"Mike, calm down! Abby is sleeping in the next—" You tried to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear any of it. He was too mad. He was too angry. He turned and grabbed his car keys, turning back to look at you, the hurt and anger evident in his eyes.
"Abby isn't your concern; she's my responsibility. She's my sister, not yours. You're just—" Mike stopped himself, not wanting to say the next thing that came to his head. But you were right there, in front of him, looking up at him with eyes full of hurt. You were so close, so close he could see the tears glistening in your eyes.
“I'm just… what, Mike?" You asked him, your voice hitching. The tears that you had been holding back began to fall. You were at a breaking point; you didn't know how to feel anymore. You didn't know what you were feeling. All you knew was that your boyfriend just screamed at you and hurt you with his words.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked over your shoulder to see Abby standing there. She looked up at her brother with wide eyes and a confused expression. She looked from Mike to you, then to her hand that was on your shoulder. You felt numb. You couldn't believe what was happening.
"Abby…" Mike took a deep breath. "Abby, go back to bed, okay? I'll be back soon." He gave her a soft smile. The one he always gave you when you needed it. She looked up at him, giving him the same sad look she was giving you. She rubbed her eyes and walked back into her room, closing the door behind her. Mike turned his attention back to you, but he didn't say anything. He looked like he had more to say, but the words just didn't come out.
And that was the last time you saw him.
You spent the next couple of hours curled up on the floor, crying until you couldn't cry anymore. You tried to sleep in the own comfort of your bed, but every time you closed your eyes, you would see his face. His angry face. The face he made at you the last time you spoke. The face he made when he screamed at you. You hated it. You hated everything about it.
It was around six in the morning when you decided to finally leave your room. It was cold outside, but you didn't care. You needed some fresh air. You needed to get out of there for a little bit. You needed to get away from the suffocating apartment, the suffocating situation. You needed to get away from everything that reminded you of Mike. You walked down the hall to the patio, and you were almost to it when you heard the faint knock on the door.
You stood at the entrance to the living room, listening to the faint knocks. It was the first time in hours that you heard a sound other than your own voice. Your eyes were glued to the door, your hands in fists as you listened. And listened. And listened. It felt like an eternity before you finally decided to get the courage to walk up and answer it, reaching for the knob and pulling it open.
There, standing on the other side of the door, was your boyfriend. Michael was standing there, staring back at you. His face wasn't angry. He wasn't mad anymore. He didn't look sad either. He didn't look like anything at all. He looked blank, empty. Like he didn't have any emotions, his eyes were void of the emotions that you loved so much.
He wore his security vest, the little medallion dangling in front of his chest. He had his name tag attached to it, and you realized he came straight from work. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess, sticking out at the side. His posture was slouched, his shoulders hanging low. He looked exhausted. But he was there, and he was standing right in front of you like he was the one who had been waiting for so long. Like he was the one who was worried.
"Hi," he spoke quietly. He almost whispered. It was soft, and it was quiet. His voice was scratchy and dry. He was trying to smile, but he was trying so hard to force one that it hurt you to see it. You felt a sharp pain in your chest at the sight of him. "Can we… Can we talk?"
"What are you doing here, Michael? You need to be home for Abby." You felt the lump in your throat rise up as you spoke. You could feel the tears coming back to your eyes, and you knew he saw them. He was always good at seeing through you.
"I couldn't go home knowing we're not okay." He looked at you with the saddest look you had ever seen. The look made you want to cry again. You didn't want to cry anymore.
"I… I can't right now," you said, moving to close the door in front of you. "I need some time to think." You started to shut the door, but his hand was quick to stop you from closing it. He put his foot in between the door and the frame and held the door open.
"Please," he begged, practically whining. He was so desperate. You knew he was desperate. You could see it in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed, and how he was clenching his jaw. "I know I shouldn't have said what I did last night. I was just… I was just angry. I didn't mean what I said, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want to lose you because of my shit."
"Mike…" you started, but he cut you off.
"I'm just not used to having someone around all the time… Having someone help me. I know I get angry easily; Fuck, I know I'm stubborn. I know that I get mad at myself a lot because I'm not perfect, but I'm trying. I really am. For the longest time, it's just been Abby and I and no one else. I never really had someone who was willing to take care of me… and I've always been fine. I'm fine." Mike shook his head. "But I don't want to be just fine anymore. I want to be happy, and I want to be happy with you."
You felt a fresh set of tears fall from your eyes. You couldn't help it. The words were too much for you to handle. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you with his big hazel eyes, and how his voice cracked as he spoke. He looked like he had more to say, but he didn't. He just looked at you. He looked like he was searching for something. And you realized it was your forgiveness. He was waiting for your forgiveness. He was waiting for you to give him another chance.
You thought about all the times he opened up to you. All the times he let you in, and you helped him out when he needed it. You thought about how he was there when you needed him to be. You thought about how he would smile at you when you needed him to, how he would make you smile even on your worst days.
"I think you owe a dollar for the swear jar, maybe more," you spoke softly, looking up at him with your red, puffy eyes. He gave you a confused look, but he soon realized what you were talking about. He chuckled as he wiped the tears from your eyes.
"Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, Abby," he apologized, acting like he was talking to his little sister. She wasn't here right now, but you knew he still felt like he needed to apologize to her for his actions, too. He always felt the need to apologize. He felt the need to try and be a better brother. To try and be a better son. He looked at you with those big eyes of his. The same eyes you fell in love with.
"Hug?" you asked, a small smile gracing your face. You didn't know why you asked, but you did. You felt the lump in your throat slowly ease up, and you finally felt the air in your lungs start to flow. He smiled back at you, opening his arms, and you stepped into them, burying your face in his shoulder.
He pulled away and kissed your forehead, resting his on top of yours. He rubbed your back as you wrapped your arms around him. He felt safe and warm. He felt like everything that was missing.
"I still don't want you covering the debt," he told you. "But… I'll take the help. I can take the help. I'll take it as long as it's you." You could hear him smiling, and you squeezed him tighter.
"Of course. Of course."
Everything was falling back into place. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't fixed. There was still so much to work out, but it was starting to feel a little better. You felt a little better. You felt a little more whole again. The ache in your heart wasn't so bad. It was bearable, and you could finally breathe again.
"You can let go of me now." Mike's voice was muffled against the top of your head, and you realized you were squeezing him too tight.
Still, you didn't let go. "No, you're warm," you said, smiling into his chest.
He let out a small sigh, shaking his head. "Is this my punishment? Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?"
"It could be worse. I could still be mad at you," you replied, kissing the side of his neck.
"Well, in that case," he suddenly grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder. He laughed as you yelped out in surprise, flailing your limbs. You felt the world turn upside down, and you screamed as he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him. "Let me show you how sorry I am."
He might've ended up causing Abby to be late to school that morning, but it was okay. It was okay because you were laughing. You were smiling, and most of all, you were happy.
You were happy because even though it wasn't perfect, he was trying. He was trying to make things better for himself and for you. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like you were finally home.
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luveline · 3 months
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for a heavy request, maybe the marauders after you've been in a car accident, no heavy injuries if you don't want to, but just them worrying? ily <3
love u <;3
“I always thought it would be me,” James says when he sees you, his backpack falling down his shoulder as he rushes to your side. His eyes go glassy when he sees the cut on your cheek. “Oh, no way. Look at your poor cheek. Look at your arm!” He frowns, a deep wrinkle crinkling the skin between his eyebrows. “Sweetheart.” 
You shudder as he takes your face into his hands. “You’re really cold,” you mumble. 
“Are you in pain?” 
“Yeah, Jamie.” You smile as best as you can. He looks so worried. “They pulled a lot of glass out of my arm.” 
He eyes the length of your arm wrapped in white bandages. “Yeah? How many stitches?” 
“Twenty two.” 
“Okay. Twenty two presents, then.” 
James helps you settle into your hospital bed. The crash wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it was still too much to walk off. He fluffs your pillow and helps you lay back, pulls a blanket over your legs, and then tracks down a nurse for another when your shivering doesn’t calm. His hair tickles your arms and your face as he tucks you in, kisses your cheek, the smell of his cologne a nice familiarity to cut the clinical sting of disinfectant. 
He looks like he might cry when he’s staring at you, but he doesn’t crack. “That’s better,” he says, taking your hand as he sits in the vinyl wrapped chair beside you. “They’ll be here with your things any minute now, and we can get you out of your flirty dress.” 
“It’s a hospital gown,” you mumble through a smile. You’d laugh if you had the energy. 
“Yeah, babe. You’re practically naked.” 
“Am not.” 
He kisses your knuckles. “Agree to disagree.” 
Remus and Sirius arrive trying to push through the door at the same time. Sirius wins, willing to roughhouse where Remus isn’t, propelling himself toward your bed in a rush. “What the fuck happened?” he asks. 
“They went through a red light,” you say, relieved to see them both. Sirius shocks you when he goes in for a hug, quick but careful, his hair smushed into your forehead as he covers the back of your head protectively. “I didn’t see them coming. I was just sitting there and they hit me.” 
They drove their car thirty miles per hour into the passenger side, which then pushed you into oncoming traffic. Sudden and then done. You closed your eyes to brave and opened them to find yourself covered in glass and blood with a bruise like a lash down your chest. Explaining it, remembering it again so soon, your eyes fill with tears that you choke around as Remus grabs your leg. 
“You’re okay,” James says, giving your hand a good squeeze. 
“Yeah, you’re okay,” Sirius says, quieter, his lips cold on your face. 
Sirius lets you go after a quick appraisal of your face and lets Remus crowd you. He hugs you for far longer than the other two, not because he likes you more or anything, but because he’s very, very tactile, and because you need it. He sits on the side of the bed and uses his height over you to wrap you up, avoiding your arm but otherwise smothering you in a soft affection. “It’s okay,” he repeats the sentiment of the others, kneading the top of your arm. 
Remus looks pale in the bright white fluorescents, but he doesn’t falter nor shake. He has a remarkable talent for turning everything off when he needs to. You shudder like a kid through tears, your arm a constant pang of pain. The whiplash is suffocating. Each breath you takes doesn’t feel like enough. 
Remus counts you through big breaths. “Just do it with me, hm? Nice slow breaths. You got it.” 
“I’ll get you some water,” James says. 
Sirius opens the bag they’d first ignored to unveil a shoving of things, including a water bottle and a three pack of juice cartons. “We brought choices.” 
He pierces the carton with a straw for you and hands it over. You sip at it feebly through panicked pants, the straw pushed between your teeth. Remus runs your arm with his thumb encouragingly. “Sorry,” you say. 
Three voices chime in at one. “Don’t be sorry!” Remus says, as James and Sirius both say, “No.” 
“It was really scary,” you confess, tears slinking off of your lashes as you blink. 
“I bet it was,” Remus says, “but you’re okay. We’re gonna get you fixed up and back home so quickly, dove, you don’t need to worry.” 
“I’m not worried,” —James winces visibly at your shaky voice and reaches over to rub your thighs— “I just didn’t know what was happening.” 
“It must’ve been so scary,” James sympathises. 
You look for Sirius through their embraces. He’s frowning, nearly glaring, his gaze on your bandaged arm. “We’ll sort everything out,” he promises, raising his head. “Promise.” 
You nod quickly and then slower. “Yeah, I know.” 
You’re bathed in hugs for a while. The nurse comes back to see how you are and giggles at your company. “Such handsome boys,” she says, “who’s the lucky one?” 
To which they all say, “Me.” She declares them the funniest bunch of boys she’s ever met. 
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norrizzandpia · 4 months
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Hiiii I love your writing so much!!! Can I request an imagine where Lando is streaming and the reader says something and lando is like “when I marry you” and the reader is like WHEN? And lando is all like in love and the stream goes wild. Then she leaves the room and lando is like “I can’t wait to marry her “ or smth…. Thank uuuuuu
When? (LN4)
Summary: Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.
Warnings: none
Sitting in a swiveling chair beside him, Y/n peaks over Lando’s shoulder, watching as his car on the video game spins out of control before crashing into the barriers.
“Shit!” Lando screams, his body flying forward from his chair to hunch over.
Y/n giggles in the background as the chat berates Lando for his poor sim skills whilst also being a Formula 1 driver, “You’d think you’d be so good at this game?”
Lando shoots her a look over his shoulder, a warning glance, before he shakes his head with a snicker, “You try it, then.”
Y/n shakes her head, “Nah, I’m good. Leave it the professionals.”
Lando nods with a tsk, finding her presence and her words funny nonetheless. There’s a ringing on her phone that shakes them from their moment, Y/n picking it up and noting the unknown number.
“Hello?”
Murmuring sounds from the other side of the phone before realization flows through Y/n and she nods as she speaks, “Yes, sorry. I will ask my boyfriend for that right now. I’m not sure what the exact code is.”
The word code makes Lando mute his microphone, knowing if people found his apartment with the knowledge of the code to get in, all hell would break loose.
“Who is it?” He asks her.
“The delivery guy. What’s the code to get into the building?” Y/n replies, her free hand landing on his bicep as he turns around to fully face her.
Lando’s body warms at her touch, “2576.”
She nods and he unmutes the microphone, the couple going back to their old ways.
“You know, you could just make it easier for me and write the code on a piece of paper for me. Or at least let me write it in my Notes app. I always forget it.” She chuckles, noting the way the delivery man texts her he’s making his way up the stairs, gaining closer to the apartment.
Lando mindlessly laughs, “I don’t want it to get leaked or for you to lose the paper. Maybe when I marry you, I don’t know.”
The chat erupts as silence ensues behind him. Lando sneaks a glance at Y/n behind him, the girl jaw dropped, “When?”
His eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, when. What about it? You think I don’t want to marry you? You think I don’t already have it all planned out in my head?”
Y/n shakes her head, disbelief bleeding from her being, “Well, what a nice surprise!”
She giggles, still a bit taken aback, before leaning forward and planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek. One which he grimaces at and wipes away, although his heart beats faster in his chest at the gesture.
She smiles down at him as she stands up, mumbling about the food being there, as she lays another kiss yet this time meeting his lips. She stares at him a bit more before leaving the room, the two being lovesick in the way their eyes shimmered.
Lando, let alone for the moment, read through the chat and laughed at their words, “What do you mean ‘I’m crying, that’s so cute’ I thought people knew how serious I was about her?!”
Max laughs from the other end of the call, “Yeah, what? Lando has been talking about marrying Y/n since he first met her.”
More messages flood through and Lando can only smile blissfully, “Well, you heard it here first, folks. I can’t wait to marry that woman.”
At this point, the chat is triggered into a frenzy and Y/n looks bewildered when she comes back with the food, slightly overwhelmed at the volume of words infiltrating the screen.
“Jesus Christ, did Lando moan again?” She jokes, though by the way Lando doesn’t answer she actually worries for a moment.
He’s quick to reassure her though, “No, just informing the chat on how in love I am with you because apparently they didn’t know.”
Blush rises to her cheeks and Lando pulls her down onto his lap, the two digging into the two bowls balancing in her lap. There’s a chowing session between the two, their hunger taking over, as they continue to converse with the chat and Max.
Truly funny, though, the way the conversation steered into the topic of Lando and Y/n getting married as the engagement ring rest in the depths of his sock drawer, begging to be taken out and displayed on the finger of his favorite girl.
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disneyprincemuke · 7 months
Text
5 times * mv1
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there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know
pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader
warnings: i... don't know?
notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)
one.
"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"
it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.
after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.
until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."
"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.
he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.
but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."
"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."
for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.
one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.
"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."
there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.
"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.
it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.
"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."
his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.
he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.
it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.
"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"
there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.
he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.
now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"
he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.
he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.
you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"
"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."
he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.
"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."
then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."
"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."
max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."
you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.
you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.
he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.
"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"
and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.
"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."
two.
max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.
he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.
there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.
the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.
"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."
he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"
you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.
your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.
"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.
"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.
he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.
"i'm okay."
"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."
he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."
you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.
"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."
"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."
you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"
"g-"
"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"
he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."
you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."
he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.
thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.
and god, he wants it to him so bad.
"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.
he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.
if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.
you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."
your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.
max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.
he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.
yet, he settles with, "you're the best."
three.
max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.
next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.
if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.
his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.
great. they've caught on.
alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.
max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.
when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.
because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.
you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.
from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.
"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"
"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"
you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"
he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.
"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.
"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"
max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?
he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?
he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.
once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.
he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?
"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"
he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.
you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."
max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.
if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.
you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"
you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.
just you and him.
can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?
but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."
he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."
four.
it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.
the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.
max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.
max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.
the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"
with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."
he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.
when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.
alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"
the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.
he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.
and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.
and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.
he missed you all week.
"max?"
his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.
anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.
"can i take you out on a date?"
his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.
"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.
is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?
immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"
you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.
and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.
"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.
finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.
"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."
your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"
"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."
you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.
he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.
but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.
long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.
if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.
"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.
this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.
"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.
max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”
you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."
he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."
five.
in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.
"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.
"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."
max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."
he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.
he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.
he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.
max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."
he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.
you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"
he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."
you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"
max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.
he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.
you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.
"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."
you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."
max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.
he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."
you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."
he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.
he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.
it's just not enough for him.
the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.
thank you, you're the best.
max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.
he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?
he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.
he is feeling so many things.
then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.
and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.
"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.
his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.
"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.
his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."
he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.
your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.
then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"
his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.
max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"
and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."
you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."
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plussizeficchick · 4 months
Text
Breeder’s Digest! | Nanami x Chubby!Reader
Summary; Nanami’s always wanted kids, but there’s something about you taking care of your nieces and nephews that just get him going.
Warnings; smut(breeding kink(like huge), pregnancy kink?, cunnlingus, P in V, cockwarming(mentioned), ooc!Nanami?, not proofread(y’all know what it is))
Sn: This was originally requested by @shadofireshinobi but friend I could never do it justice like how you requested😫but I hope you like it boo💕
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He truly doesn’t know what came over him.
Nanami prides himself on his self control. Sure, there are times when it becomes too much, you’re a bit too tempting, but he’s always been able to keep himself in check.
So where the fuck is that same composure?
Really, he should’ve known better when you said your nieces and nephews would be at the gathering your family was having for Christmas, he just didn’t think it’d result to this.
It just became too much, the sight of you holding your baby niece to your chest, the way you so carefully cradled her, making sure to position her head right.
It just came so naturally to you.
The way you were able to calm her when she was getting fussy, the soft way you cooed at her when she did just about anything, it was getting to him. 
The want, the need, to fuck you full of his cum, to see you nice and round with his child.
He simply couldn’t wait.
— —
You aren’t sure what’s come over Nanami.
You thought everything was fine, you were at your parents house to spend time with them and your sister, along with her new bundle of joy but as you spent time there, Nanami started to act off.
You two had broached the topic of children briefly in the past. It was a mutual agreement that you both wanted them, just when the time was right.
So you’re confused as to what spurred this reaction.
After your niece was put down for a nap, Nanami gave your family a poor excuse as to why you had to leave earlier than anticipated and all but carried you out the door.
You tried to ask what came over him, but he merely shut you down with a searing kiss, stealing your breath away. “I need you.” He groaned against your mouth. He was struggling to hold himself back, desperate to get you squirming in his cock.
You whine against his lips, pulling back just enough to ask him what happened, when he pulls you right back into him, mumbling about getting you home.
— —
After narrowly avoiding crashing, you both managed to stumble into your shared home, Nanami hoisting you up to grind your clothed core against his. “Feel me, pretty? It’s all f’you.” He murmurs against your lips, the taste of you too addicting.
You grind against him, your panties accumulating an embarrassing amount of slick as you feel his hardness. “Need you, Ken. So bad.” You whine. The friction on your clit is delicious, but you need more. 
“Gonna fill you up.” He promises, walking you to your shared bedroom. “Gonna get you nice and full of my kids.” Your heart thrums at the mention of this, pussy clenching involuntarily. Nanami quirks a brow at that, a smirk making its way to his face. “Oh? She likes the sound of that, hm?”
Your heart just about falls to your ass.
He places you on the bed and strips you both of your clothes, kissing and sucking your most sensitive areas before finally placing his mouth where you need him most.
You gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue laving over the bundle of nerves as one of his hands to reach up and tweak one of your sensitive nipples. He uses his other hand to push one of your knees up, giving him a bit more access to your center. You cry out as he licks a bold stripe up your core, his eyes demanding contact. 
“You taste so good, pretty. I wonder, will you taste different when you’re swollen with my child? Will you taste even sweeter?” He works a finger into you, thrusting shallowly at first, but as you grind your hips into him, he picks up the pace. “I can’t wait to see your tits swell with milk. You won’t ever have to worry about them being too heavy, I’ll help with that, my dear.” Your mind is too clouded to understand the double meaning behind his words, too focused on chasing your orgasm. “Please.” You beg, though, you don’t really know what you're begging for. Nanami does, however, working in a second and third finger as his tongue works wonders on your clit.
It doesn’t take long before you cum, body spasming underneath him. He works you through it, pressing tender kisses along your body before making his way to your lips. “Need to fuck you, princess. Gotta fill you up.” He murmurs against you, cock grinding into your sopping cunt. You whimper as he strokes himself through your folds just right, tip bumping against your clit every so often.
He eventually takes pity on you, slowly stretching you around his thick length as he sets a steady pace. He pulls back a little to get a good look at your face. Drool spilling down your kiss-swollen lips, eyes hazy as he has you creaming around his cock, tits bouncing deliciously as he fucks into you.
So pretty.
“Can’t wait to see my baby in you.” He groans, the image of you round and your tits swollen making him that much harder inside you. He picks up the pace, angling his hips to hit your g-spot as he thumbs your clit. “Cum for me, Princess. Make a mess for me. Please, baby.” He practically begs. His cock is near to bursting the way you're clenching around him. 
You’re tearing up, the feeling of his cock inside you almost overwhelming. Just as you begin to cry out from your orgasm, Nanami captures your lips in a messy kiss, tongues mingling together sloppily. “Gonna cum f’you, princess. Gonna fill you up and I don’t want a fucking drop spilling out. Understand?” He practically snarls in your ear. And for some reason, it has your pussy clenching. 
He spills his seed deep inside you; a deep, guttural groan escaping him as he fucks deep into you, eager to paint your womb. His large hands roam the expanse of your tummy lovingly before he’s flipping you both over so you’re laying on top of him. He presses soft kisses along your neck even though you’re both spent, basking in each other’s warmth. 
Nanami knows that it’ll take a while before you’re showing, but as you lay there cockwarming him, he can’t help but be excited for what the future will hold.
— —
Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon
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lunargrapejuice · 20 days
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Hi how are you doing I was wondering if I can request a wriothesley, Neuvillette, xiao, and zhongli(separately) with a pregnant reader who falls down the stairs but the reader is okay
thank you for requesting! i'm sorry, i didn't write xiaos i just couldn't come up with something worthy of sharing slkhdfs but i hope you enjoy everyone elses<3
wriothesley, neuvillette + zhongli (separately) x pregnant!reader
warnings: hurt/comfort theme but no one actually gets hurt, lots of tears and congrats you've given your beloved a heart attack but all is well
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wriothesley:
you’re nearly to the top of the stairs in wriothesleys office when you see he isn’t here and let out a huff at how the trip up these stairs makes you so breathless in your current, very pregnant, state. by the lingering warmth and sweet scent of tea in the air, he must have been here not too long ago and at this point you might just take the few last steps up and rest of the couch, skipping your appointment with sigewinne and waiting for your husband to return here but maybe wrio was already making his way to the clinic.
at the height of your pregnancy brain right now, you can’t quite remember now if you told him this morning that you’d meet him here or there but with the lack of his presence now, you’re starting to think it’s the former. 
letting go of the chilled railing just long enough to turn around, you hold on tightly with each step you take down, your other hand cradling your round belly. you have to take each step one at a time, one foot after the other and archons it’s so exhausting to walk and your feet hurt and you just want to be laying in bed in your beloved arms with a serving bowl size of whatever you’ve been craving throughout the day.  
but especially to be with wriothesley. your pregnancy has brought your affection and want for him to a whole other level that was making it so you really might cry if you didn’t see him soon. he just.. made everything better with only a gentle touch and a flash of his smile, though it also helps that he dotes on your every want and need when he’s able and when it’s within reason. 
maybe it was that want that made your heart skip a beat when the large doors of his office open and not a second later you see the familiar tips of his dark hair and your already tired legs wobble, making you miss the next step down. it hurts your arm trying to hang onto the railing at such an awkward angle and you’re forced to let go, your body tensing and instinctively wrap around your stomach to try to prepare you for the impact of the metal stairs as you fall.
wriothesleys chest tightens quickly and terribly at the sight unfolding before him. he isn’t sure how he’s able to get out the call of your name but it seems drowned out anyways against his heavy boots hitting the ground, moving as fast as he possibly can to catch you. his knees crash into the metal stairs painfully in his movements to catch you in his arms but it’s nothing compared to how it feels to have you crashing into his body, your belly pressed against his chest, your trembling hands reaching for him as soon as they can.
he’s shaking too, despite how steady he is with the pressure he uses to hold you in this awkwardly crouched stance. not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you, but there’s no way you’re slipping from his grasp either.
“i’ve got you,” his voice is deep, barely above a whisper and with a quiver of lingering fear that makes you burst into tears even though you try so hard to hold them back.
the worried look on his face hurts more than the brunt of the few steps your body took. it’s nothing more than a fading throb of pain compared to cords of your heart strings being pulled more than they could handle right now and it’s all your fault - if you’d just - 
“i’m sorry,” you sob out, letting go of him to cover your weeping eyes. you feel him shift, keeping you in his arms with one strong arm at your back, the other under your knees, while he stands straight and easily holds you there, safe but maybe not so sound when you can’t stop crying. 
“sweetheart,” you can still hear the shake of his voice through how he’s still trying to remain calm for both of you while soothing your tears when you can’t find an ounce of it in yourself. “need you to tell me you’re okay,” because if you don’t he’ll be running with you in his arms as fast as he can to sigewinne.
you nod your head, doing all you can to get the words out. “’m okay.” you mumble through your tears. your wet hands move to grip onto the lapel of his vest, holding him tighter than before and you bury yourself in the comfort of his chest, taking in the good breath you can and it's so full of wriothesley you can’t help but sink further into his hold. “.. i’m s-sorry.”
he lets out a breath of relief as he leans down to kiss your temple. his lips and minty breath are warm, a balm to your overwhelming emotions and with a gentle voice he soothes you further, walking up the steps leading to his office. “it’s okay baby.” 
keeping you in his arms, he settles on the couch, letting your weary legs spread out over the cushion so he has a free hand to move the hair from your face, his tender and patient touch coaxing you to look at him once you’re ready. your eyes are puffy but still so beautiful, your breath starting to slow and returning to nearly normal at the feeling of his touch traveling from your face to your stomach, a large palm spread over the perfect curve of your baby bump.
his steady promise only calms you further, “everythings okay. we’re all okay.”
neuvillette:
after your nap on one of the many couches in the iudex office, a nap you hadn’t really expected to take when you stopped by to see neuvillette, you were surprised to wake alone. your trek here must have been more tiring than you thought since when you fell asleep you were resting on his arm and apparently hadn’t woken up when he tucked you under a blanket and put a pillow under your head.
when these items first made it here it was because of how many nights he spent sleeping in his office for a few hours in the late night before getting back to work. those nights had since stopped, especially since you found out you were pregnant, and now the comfortable blanket and pillow were more your own, these days only being used to cover your growing belly and rest your head comfortably when you inevitably fall asleep here.
but usually your husband was within reach when you awoke.
using your hands to help push yourself off the couch, you waddle towards the doors of his office, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and the moment the large doors open, sedene is at your side with a wide smile and even bigger violet eyes. after rather excitedly asking if she can do anything for you, she lets you know neuvillette left her with a message that he would be just outside if you needed anything and with a thank you and a smile you head towards the doors of the palais mermonia.
it’s not that you needed anything from him per say, you felt okay and you know most things you could have asked sedene for. you also know how busy of a man he is so maybe you should have waited for him to come back inside but he had assured you, after one tearful night in the beginning of your pregnancy, that needing him was okay too. 
so you let your heart lead you to him, past the workers and visitors with only one thing on your mind; being in his arms even if it's only for a few more minutes before he has to get back to work and you take your own leave, having a few more errands to run before the day ends.
outside is warm under the bright sun, a cooling breeze keeping it from being too hot. it takes your eyes a few moments to adjust to the difference in light but you still spot the silhouette of neuvillette. many would agree he is easy to spot in a crowd but for you it was for far different reasons than just his height and his title and even now when all you could make out was the blue hue of his coat like a sparkling shell in the sand that is your blurry vision, you know it’s him and you can feel the movement of your baby at the emotions that stir within you as you take the steps towards him.
except two steps in, still trying to blink away the last of the dots of sunlight in your adjusting vision, there is no ground underneath your feet. you try to reach for the hand extended out to you though you don’t know whose it is but aren’t able to reach it in time before you begin to fall.
neuvillette doesn’t excuse himself from the conversation he had brought out here in order to allow you to sleep without disturbance before he’s moving quickly through the small crowd of people in order to get to you, his heart in his throat and even though he can move faster than most of those around him would be able to see, it doesn’t feel like fast enough when he watches you stumble.
it’s a split second, a blur of azure and white that hardly even moves the air in its wake, a blink of an eye and neuvillette has crossed the courtyard outside the palais mermonia and captured you in his arms before you can fall any further. 
you can feel and hear a thundering heart beat but between the two of you, with how close you are to neuvillette, you don’t know if it’s yours or his. behind his shoulder you can see the once bright blue sky is now covered by gray clouds and when your eyes focus on the face of the beautiful man holding you, you can see why it’s suddenly turned so dark, that the storm behind his worried eyes mirrors the one that brews in the sky.
it makes you want to cry way more than the pain of your fall and before you’ve even realized it, you break out in a full blown sob, hiding your face in his chest. you can feel the world around you move, it’s like you're nearly weightless, floating through the air like you aren’t incredibly pregnant but you don’t care to pull away from your place against your beloved to look around you and before you know it, you’re being gently placed back on the couch you had been asleep on just a bit ago.
neuvillette settles on his knees in front of you and you bring your hands up to face to wipe your tears but they fall to the top of your belly instead when long slender fingers beat you to it, their gentleness and warmth on your cheek beyond comforting. you don’t even know when he had time to take his gloves off but his skin on yours is exactly what your startled heart needed to settle. 
and though it is helping his own to see you calming down and feel you leaning into his touch, neuvillette has hardly been able to take a breath. it felt like it was taking all of his strength just to keep his hands steady. lavender petalled eyes shining with ethereal blue haven’t been able to tear from you and take in every inch of your skin, the curve of your baby bump that you hold in your arms, the small scrape on your hands where you tried to catch yourself that hadn’t broken your skin, your wobbly lip as you take in a deep breath, and the wet lashes that kiss his skin with every tear he wipes away.
“i’m sorry..” you break the worried silence between you when his eyes meet yours. “i just..”
his thumbs caress along your cheeks in a slow back and forth motion and though he’s steadying with every passing moment, there’s a tremble to his voice that’s laced with relief and lingering worry. “you have no reason to be sorry, my dear. the most important thing is that you are okay.”
nodding your head, your hand with the small scrape comes up to cradle one of his and your fingers wrap around his palm, needing no strength at all to bring it down to your belly. his long fingers splay over your bump, taking in the feeling of you under his palms as your face leans into his other hand.  “we’re both okay,” you assure him with a heartfelt smile and see the room behind him brighten in the unimpeded sunlight once more.
zhongli:
liyue was always so lovely this time of night, quiet but still with cheerful life, the lantern light shining through the streets in a warm yellow hue and even the sea seemed to settle in the moons presence with gentle crashes of waves along the harbor. you waddle along the path leading to the main entrance of the harbor from the inner city, yes waddling because you don’t know how else to describe the way your very pregnant body moves with each step. 
you can’t wait to show the baby in your belly this beautiful city, their home that was built by the hands of their father and kept by the people he entrusted with it now that his life is full of another kind of duty, dedicated to you and your growing family. and you know zhongli is just as ecstatic, already telling your baby of this world in the night when he kisses your round stomach and thanks you for giving him such a gift; your shared love and what wonderful miracles came with it.
if you could, you’d hasten your step to try to meet zhongli sooner. with him being at work all day, you were more than anxious to see him. now more than ever you had been partially needy for him, much to his pleasure because he couldn’t deny the more.. dragon-like tendencies your pregnancy had brought out in him. 
today was a rare one when he wasn’t able to make it home for lunch and had to work later than usual but you knew you could find him at the harbor when his office turned up empty in your impatience to be with him. you just hoped you wouldn’t be interrupting his work when you did find him.
doctor baizhu had expressed the importance of taking walks in your pregnancy but the further along you got, the more tiring that had became and today you think you’re finding your current limit. which looks to be a little more than halfway down the steps to the harbor with no railing to lean on. holding your belly with one hand, you take it one step at a time, both feet to a step before taking the next, every inhale deep and trying to keep you steady, calm.
you’re nearly to the bottom when you spot your husband's tall figure standing out amongst the people scattered around the harbor. for as human as he made this form, he stood out to you as the most beautiful among them, ethereal in a way that reminds you he is the lord of geo but more importantly nowadays, yours.
not wanting him to worry because all you really needed was a moment, you try to cover up your aching exhaustion with a smile and a wave when you feel his eyes on you and watch him turn towards you but in your fatigue and maybe even distraction of finally seeing him, you miss calculate your step and before you can try to think of what to do aside from protecting your belly, you feel the world tip in your descent down the steps.
he felt your presence, like the most precious of stones that hummed with the same beat of his heart, that had been searching for him, and as soon as you were within vision, his golden eyes were on you but he had hardly gotten a chance to take a step in your direction when you misstepped and the world slows as you fall.
the wood of the harbor groans at the sudden change in the earth below the water that shakes in a strained cry and the change of pressure in the air feels like celestia was trying to freeze time, stop anything from moving until zhongli commanded it to restart.
time didn’t stop but in a blink zhongli is kneeling on the steps with you in his arms, concrete digging into his mortal flesh but he doesn't feel it over what's coursing through his body. it wasn’t going to fix or do anything in this situation but a golden shield floats all around, blocking out the rest of the world, the eyes you know are on you but there’s only one pair you can focus on. 
zhonglis pupils are thin slits that you swear are trembling, the honey flecks of his eyes glowing with godly power that steals the air from your lungs. its as if he’s trying to look through your very being to be sure you’re okay but not having ability to see past the tears in your eyes and how tightly you hold onto your stomach. you’re shaking, or he is. you really can’t tell which, maybe it was the entirety of liyue but there’s nothing you can see or hear of the world outside the shield he has around you and the rapid heartbeats you share as one.
you’re definitely shaking. you can see it in your fingers that reach for his face, soothing over his cheek as you try to push past the sob you want to break out into and find your words. you needed to calm him down before this became more of a scene, before he really did bring down harbor.
“i’m not hurt,” there is only a dull ache where your body hit the steps but you were able to keep it all away from the baby. shaking up though- yes, far more than you want to admit. you have hardly ever seen him like this but you can feel that both you and your baby are unharmed physically and once zhongli called down, so could you. “i’m okay,” you tell him and you mean it despite the fact you can feel the tears escaping your eyes without your consent. it's happened far too many times to count during your pregnancy but right now you really need it to stop. “i’m okay zhongli,” you urge.
the pain behind his eyes seems to soften, as though he might share in your tears too but the tremble around you begins to feel like it belongs to only the two of you once more. good, he’s calming down.
you aren’t sure why that makes you lose your composure even more though. perhaps now that you knew he would be okay, you could finally let go of everything you held back. or now that everything was coming back to normal, you realize the scene you’ve made all over your own mistake. whatever it was, it felt like a flood overwhelming your every emotion.
biting your bottom lip, you try to stop it’s tremble as you cling onto your husband. you can’t be bothered with how pitiful you sound right now. “please take me home..”
without a word, in a whirl of golden smoke and a matter of moments, you’re in your bedroom, the familiar scent of your home filling your nose and helping to calm your uneasy breaths. his strides are steady and long as he makes his way to the bed, sitting on the edge with you cradled in his lap, crying into his shoulder.
“my lily,” his voice quivers but he holds you with strength and love and tenderness. “please take a breath.” a large hand smooths down your back, feeling you hiccup as you try to follow his own breaths. resting a palm on your belly, splaying long golden fingers over your bump, you feel the comfortable, anchoring weight of his forehead on yours. “i’ve got you.”
♡♡♡♡♡
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1800jjbarnes · 5 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟑 : 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇
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Godess Amongst Commoner
【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry.
『W.C』 : 1.67k
-> Genre: Mafia Au. Suggestive. Sweet Love.
Paring: MobBoss!Bucky x Chubby!Reader
[Warnings] : Shitty Friends. Mention about putting on weight (which is normal). Mention of a standard. Dark thoughts. Reader hates herself. (I love you all so much.) James wants to lowkey kill your friends. Pet names. Swearing. Crying. Kisses. Hickeys. Little bit of man handling. Fingering.
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It was supposed to be a calm day hanging out with your friends but it got turned on its head when you got the the place you were going to meet them and you overheard them talking about your ‘failure’ in life. God, it hurt hearing them explain it like that. It wasn’t like it was your fault that your life came to a crashing stop. It’s not like you asked to get a back injury and gain some weight over the healing time.
It crushed you, trying so hard to lose the weight was no easy task. It was like it stuck to you. You became so insecure about it, and you thought your so-called friends were supportive and loved you no matter what, but it turns out they now looked at you like an outsider. All because you were a few sizes bigger than them.
You felt the restaurant, not even taking the corner to where they were sat. Knowing that if you saw you, they would stop you. They would have most likely say ‘oh why are you leaving babe, don’t go’ but in reality, you now know, it was just pity. That’s how they looked at you. Like a puppy, they had no choice but to look after.
-
You spent the next hour walking home instead of calling for a ride, punishing yourself in a way. When you saw the gate to your front lawn, you sighed, feeling relief. It wasn’t that the walking was hard or anything. But you wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball on your soft bed. What you didn’t expect was for a motorbike parked discreetly in your driveway. ‘wonder who that could be’ you thought sarcastically.
Opening the door to your house, you notice the front door was unlocked, along with a pair of nice dress shoes sitting on the shoe rack. You took your own shoes off, hissing at the pain of walking for so long on small platforms. “James?”
You called, voice echoing in the silent home. He didn’t normally show up unannounced let alone on his bike, given he worried so much about your safety. But when you entered the lounge room and spotted him lying on your soft sofa with one of your plushies tight in his grasp that you keep nearby so you could cuddle it while sitting on the couch alone. You had to smile at him. For a roughed-up mob boss, he sure looks like such an innocent baby right now.
“You better be laughing at yourself, doll.” His deep grumble caught your laughter in your throat. He didn’t even open his eyes, just twitching slightly. He knew it was you the moment he heard the pitter-patter of your socked feet padding around the small home. He was, after all, in a line of work where he needed to be vigilant. “Why are you home anyway?”
You were hoping he wasn’t going to ask you that question ‘cause he knew you were going out with your friends―that he frankly didn’t like―today. Sighing, you took a set on the lone loveseat against the other wall. You knew you would have to tell him cause if you didn’t he would just come up with his own answer. “I left ‘cause I overheard….uh….” Fuck you didn’t even want to talk about what went down in fear that if you saw it aloud it would be real.
He noticed your shift in demeanour instantly, sitting up he shuffled along the couch until he was leaning against the arm. The plushie still nestled in his lap as his harsh grip squeezed its poor head. “What did they say?”
“Nothing important… it was um…” You began to panic, maybe lying would have been the better option now. Bucky goes up from the couch, moving to sit next to you, pulling your legs up to rest them over his lap. You felt a sudden feeling of disgust as he lifted your figure. How could someone like Bucky be in love with someone like you? He was toned, rugged. A handsome bachelor that could have women falling at his feet. But yet here he was. Staring at you with devotion and full of love. You were the only one in his heart… why?
“I swear if you don’t tell me right now.” He sounded threatening, but in truth, you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or others, without knowing you were completely okay with it. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a tear fall down your hot cheek. You didn’t even know when you started crying, but it was like it was out of your control. You were useless, worthless, a failure, and everyone’s eyes. So why not he as well? Why didn’t he not leave for someone else when he clearly deserved better?
He rushed to you without a second thought, holding you close as he hushed you softly. His hand raked through your hair, soothing you while his other hand found your thigh making shapes in your plump flesh. You were so perfect to him, and seeing you cry broke his heart, and when you finally were able to tell him exactly what your so-called friends had said, he lost it. Sitting up, he cupped your face slowly, wiping your tears away as he spoke tenderly. “Honey, you are perfect no matter what anyone says. Including me. Your own opinion about yourself is all that truly matters. You are such a powerful woman, and I wouldn’t be here today if it was not for you.”
You hiccuped, sobbing quietly as he rambled about how much he was devoted to you. His lips found the corner of your wobbling mouth. His hand that once cupped your face now dared to hold the back of your neck while the other perched itself on your hips. He knelt between your legs, locking his lips while mumbling ‘I love you’ over and over through shaken kisses. He needed you to understand how beautiful you are in his eyes. His queen. Without another word, he pressed you gently on the couch, man-handling you until your boy was lying flat on the soft cushioning.
His lips danced down your jaw and neck. “My pretty angel. Perfect like honey. My everything.” His hands played with the buttons of your jeans, popping them open before drawing a hand down your panties. You tried to stop him, feeling you were too ugly for him to touch you. But he protested, smacking your thigh with his free hand. “I’m going to touch you. Pleasure you like the queen you are, and you are going to lay here and scream my name like a good girl.”
You whimpered, still crying, but you nodded, whispering a quick “Yes..Sorry.” but he stopped your whines with his fingers gripping your chin so you’d gaze right into his intense stare.
“Don’t you ever apologize for something you never did. You aren’t the reason for these tears.” He wiped one away with his thumb. “The only time you cry is when I’m pleasuring you so good. You got that, Honey?”
“Yes, Sir…”
“Repeat.” He growled slipping his fingers inside your soaked cunt.
“YES Sir…Fuck…” You moaned, bucking your hips up, spreading your legs without thinking. He hummed in approval, fucking you slowly with his fingers. His lips attached onto your neck, sucking a few harsh marks making sure to put them in places where he’d know people would look. Where your ‘friends’ would see. You see, your lover was an honest man. A fair man. And he had already made plans in his mind of what exactly to do with these so-called friends of yours and once he was down worshipping you as you deserved he was going to have fun…talking… with those disgusting women.
He pulled up your top, tugging down your bra so your breasts would pop out. He wasted no time in littering your gorgeous tits with kisses, licks, and bites. “Mine. You got that darling. You’re all mine. My good girl.” His fingers got faster placing his thumb on your clit making you scream out his name over and over. His chuckle vibrated on your nipples making you shiver in pleasure. His praises booted an ego you thought was on the ground and his lips helped wash away any negativity you mind portrayed towards your lover. “you gonna cum baby? Make a mess on my fingers?”
“Yes, Bucky. Pleaasee.” Your hands flew to his hair, tugging sharply making him groan from the painful pleasure. He rubbed sharp circles on your clit helping you tip over the edge squirting all over his hands your jeans.
“Such a good girl.” You tried to sit up to inspect the damage but Bucky placed a firm hand on your shoulder, effectively pushing you back down onto the couch. “I’m going to strip you naked okay and then you are going to go have a bath while I take a call. And then I’ll join you. How does that sound?”
You know all too well that bath means he wants to fuck you in the tub. One of his favourite places to fuck you since he was surrounded by your scent and sweet candles. But the phone call scared you. Bucky is a dangerous man and a cruel and mean one. One work is going well and he wants updates or… he wants someone dead. And from what you told him prior you know he’s planning the second option. Cause in the end, Buckg was willing to kill for you. Protecting you, if that means wiping an entire continent out. You were his everything and he plans to show you that every day at every hour and every minute.
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lumibuns-blog · 6 months
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Omggg i saw the new episode of jjk and it gave me such a big idea i think you'd love. Imagine one day sukuna finds his wife that he married thousands of years ago and due to their marriage his wife was granted immortality. And just like she never cheated or kissed another man just waiting for her husband to return and when they reunite (even if he doesnt say it) he is over the moon and just wants to never leave his wifes side ever again. Just much fluff and romance ahhhh
OMG THIS. THIS IS SO CUTE
Sakuna x reader fluff
Sukuna scoffed to himself, the boy had finally allowed him to take control after all this time. Even in this deep underground it felt good to feel the air on his face and not through that brat. He continued forward. Thousands of year of stored power and he had been reduced to a fraction of it, despite the immense power he held he couldn't help but miss the time when he ruled over the landscape, unchallenged.
He had a partner even, the one human who he couldn't bring himself to kill, the one he realized he couldn't live without. You had married him, been granted immortality by his hand, and still he had lost you. His last memory before being split and exorcised, was you running to him, crying his name. He was happy that was his last memory.
Sukuna tore himself from his own thoughts, they so often drifted to you but right now he wanted to use the small amount of freedom he was granted.
He moved his hand foreword, fire erupting from his fist as he threw the heat forward, it crashed through a wall, tunneling through the train station. He heard peoples screams like music to his ears, he walked foreword through the rubble. People ran, screaming, away from him. Fire cast from all around him, bursting every human in his sight into flames, he hummed contently to himself.
"S-Sukuna?" A feeble voice trembled from beside him
He knew that voice, he knew that voice, he slowly turned, a truly befuddled expression on his face, his lip curled as he dare not get his hood up but...
There you were, you looked exactly as gorgeous as the last moment he saw you, nothing changed, your clothes were more modern of course but there was no mistaking it, you were here.
"I knew it was you!" you cried, tears streaming down your face. You threw yourself into his arms.
He was too stunned to speak, his arms unmoving, all he could he process was the blood running down your leg, he moved his arms to gently put you down,
"Sakuna-"
"Did I do this to you?" He asked, his hand moving down to your leg, activating he reverse curse technique to heal the gash. He just couldn't believe that he had hurt you, it had been 1000 years and the first thing he did was hurt you
"Oh my love don't worry about that now" you smiled gently, you had always forgiven him no matter what he did
You moved a hand to his face to gently tip his head to look at you.
"I thought you would have found someone else by now, had a family moved on, I mean I'm sure you have" his voice grumbled low in his throat
"I would never" you leaned your forehead against his "I haven't touched a single souls since I lost you, I-I knew you would come back just like you promised"
Sakuna remembered the promise he had made to you that dim moonlit night, on the engawa of the palace you shared, that he would never leave you, even if the world fell apart he would always find you.
"I've missed you" he whispered moving his lips to kiss yours, he moved back to take in your entire person
"Your as beautiful as the day I lost you" he breathed
You smiled sweetly
"What the hell is going on?!?-" the onlooker was silenced as his head burst into flames
You continued to smile as if it was nothing
He picked you up bridal style, "we'll go find the house we used to share" he smirked to you
"I'd like that" you giggle
'Hey what the hell is going on' the brat who's body he had been forced to posses voice rang out in his head
Sukuna slapped his face "just shut it would ya" he growled to himself
"What was that?" you questioned from his arms
"I have a lot to explain" he breathed out
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