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sinofwriting · 3 months

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Every Kiss Begins With Tabs - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,544 Summary: Max and her have a tradition that was born from their first kiss. Note(s): The idea for this fic popped into my head one night, didn’t know what driver to do with it, and then quickly realized Max is the only option with him driving for a literal energy drink company. Also, this features Max and Charles being best friends, because your honor, I love them. (and features a bit of Ferrari bashing, because of course)

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At the end of their first date, Max had watched as she shyly reached into her purse, fishing for something, before pressing a small thing into his hand and instinctively he held it. He didn’t even get a second to figure out what it was, since she kissed him as soon as it was pressed into his hand. It was small, barely a second, just a peck. But it had made him flush, staring at her with wide eyes before he murmured a quiet again.

Her bottom lip had found its way between her teeth for a second, before she nodded at his hand, the one she had pressed something into. For the kiss. He remembers her mumble, making her all the more cute to him, how she was shy yet bold in the same breath.

It had been near painful to look away from her, but he forced his eyes down as he uncurled his hand and saw a generic soda tab sitting in his palm. Her words rang in his ears and memories of watching girls in school give them to boys run through his head and he’s pressing their hands together, keeping it between their palms as he kisses her.

—

Max’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he messes with the tab on his can of Red Bull. The sound of the press and his fellow drivers' voices washing over him. When it easily tears off, he pockets it, just as he’s asked a question.

“Over these last few months, you’ve been a lot happier. Many people thought it was you winning races making you so happy, but with Singapore happening, that has been disproven. Is there something other than winning that makes you so happy?” Max’s eyes darted over to his press officer, personal questions were on the no list for after races. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow and he has to resist letting his brows press together. She clearly didn’t think this was personal and in nature he supposes it wasn’t, but it was leading. Raising the microphone to his lips, he speaks. “Well, I think I’d have a very boring, shit life if the only thing that made me happy was winning.” The reporter coughs, “Of course. But nothing new in your life?” “Not that I can think of.” There’s a frown on the reporter's face, but they don’t ask anything else, and the session is called to a close.

“I fucking hate reporters.” Max murmurs as he walks out the room. Charles snorts, hearing him and gently bumping their shoulders together. “I couldn’t tell.” “Haha. Was a good race for you today, though.” “I feel like I need a fucking bodyguard. I’ve been getting threats like crazy.” Max winces, having seen some for himself and also knowing from experience how bad they could get. “Ferrari hasn’t hired any for you?” He scoffs, “No, too much faith, I suppose.” “Stick close, come to Red Bull’s hotel with me, I’ve got an extra room and security.” “Ooh.” Charles teases, poking at his side as they exit the building. “Look at the golden boy with his security.” Max rolls his eyes, but feigns away as he reaches out again. “Are you coming or not?” He scoffs again. “Of course. I’m too pretty to be killed.” It’s Max’s turn to scoff, “You're something, alright.” he mutters.

Entering Red Bull’s garage with Charles would feel weird if it weren't for the fact that for nearly all of this season Bradley, Christian, Tom, GP, or himself had all been sneaking the Ferrari driver in. Max knows that Christian is hoping with them allowing Charles access to their garage and helping hide him away from Ferrari that he’ll join their team, and Max isn’t too proud to say that he’s started to wish that too.

“I’ve gotta get something from Christian first.” Max murmurs when Charles makes a confused hum when they don’t immediately go to his driver’s room. “Also, might want to text something to collect your stuff.” “Andrea will get it. I just need the hotel and room number so he can send some stuff over.” “Don’t want to sleep in Red Bull branded clothes?” Charles sniffs, sticking his chin in the air, perfectly making a haughty face. “Of course not. I have fashion sense.”

—

“You want room service or something delivered from somewhere?” Charles stares at him, “Mate.” Max grins at him before returning his gaze to his phone. “Had to ask. We do have Brazil next weekend after all.” “I want all the tacos in the world right now.” “Margaritas as well?” It’s silent for a second, “why not. Just one though.” Max rolls his eyes, typing out the number ten before hitting send.

“Food has been ordered.” “Thank god. I’m starving.” “Not going to offer to pay?” Max jokes, even though he’d refuse. “God no.” He scoffs before grinning at him. “Thank you, Max, honestly.” “It’s no problem.”

“When will the food get here?” Charles asks nearly thirty minutes later as Max unlocks the door. “Already here.” He tells him, opening the door up and stepping through.

Tossing his backpack to the armchair, he doesn’t see the confused look on Charles’ face or how it grows more confused when Max fishes something out of his pocket and holds it out, a grin on his face as he stands just beside the suite's sofa.

Charles nearly stumbles when a girl appears out of nowhere, words gathering on his tongue, only for them to die before they can form when she takes whatever it is out of Max’s hand and kisses him. He knows his mouth is open, jaw dropped, as he stares at the two.

“Hello.” Max murmurs, pulling away after pressing another kiss to her lips. Her head is tilted up a bit to look at him, nose scrunching a little as she smiles. “Hi. Well done on the race.” He grins and is unable to resist kissing her again before finally separating from her, only to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side as he turns them both to face Charles. “Charles, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” The other driver blinks at them for a few seconds before smiling. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” He tells her, stepping forward to greet her with a hug, giving Max a thumbs up when she easily goes along with it. Max snorts at the thumbs up.

“Congrats on your race as well, Charles. Always nice to see you on the podium.” “Oh.” He can feel his cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment. “Well, it is always nice to be there, even if he is always taking the top spot.” She laughs and then she’s ushering them both to sit down at the small table nearly overflowing with food. “Oh my god.” Charles breaths, staring at it all. “It’s beautiful.” “I think you're just hungry, mate.” Max remarks and Charles notices how she passes whatever Max handed her before they kissed back to the driver before giving him a peck on the lips. “Of course, I’m hungry.” His eyes wander over all the food, all the tacos, and he knows that Andrea will be pissed at their next session when Charles tells him what he ate, but he knows he won’t regret it. Even when Andrea makes the session a triple.

“Can I ask a question?” Charles asks, after they are done eating. The twelve tacos he ate and two margaritas he had in combination with pleasant company made him feel content. “Is it a stupid one?” “Max.” She playfully scolds, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course.” “What is with the thing? The small thing you pass back and forth.” “Oh,” her eyes are a little wide and she seems to have stiffened and it has Charles' eyes widened. “You do not have to answer. I was just curious. You can of course tell me to shut up.” “No, it’s okay.” She shares a look with Max. “It’s just a habit, I don’t even really think about it anymore.”

Charles watches as she carefully extends her hand and opens it so he can stare at the thing the couple has been exchanging. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s a tab to a Red Bull can.

“Before I kissed Max for the first time, I gave him a tab from a soda can. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” His face softens at the explanation, and this whole weekend he has missed Alex, but now more than ever he wishes that she was able to come with him. “That is very sweet.” His lips then curl into a smirk and he looks at Max. “Must make sex uncomfortable though.” “You mother,” Max cuts himself off as he hits Charles with a pillow, his fellow driver howling with laughter. Hitting him with a pillow again, Max looks at her to see her laughing as well, face bright with joy and his hand is ducking into his pocket pulling out a spare tab he always keeps on him, pressing it into her hand before kissing her, ignoring the fake sounds of throwing up from Charles as he does.

@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67

#f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months

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offline - vince dunn

streamer!vince dunn x reader

summary: everyone in vince’s chat thinks he’s in love with you, which makes hiding your relationship interesting

warnings: a few uses of y/n, i think that’s it. not too proud of this one

word count: 0.9k

“bluepanda2, thank you for the 5 gift subs,” you heard vince say into his microphone as you passed by his streaming room. he had been on for nearly 4 hours already, and while you were used to the long streams he did by now, nearly six months into your relationship, you did still get impatient waiting for his attention sometimes. you had been friends with vince for a few years, having met through a mutual friend and staying in touch via text, until one day he gained the courage to ask you out, and here you were now. knowing the stress that the public eye could put a lot of stress on a new relationship, you had both decided it would be best to keep your romance a secret, at least for the first little while. months had gone by and some people were suspicious, and some people just wanted it to happen from the few times you had appeared on or been mentioned in streams.

you didn’t always watch his streams, honestly not having the time to some days, and also feeling like you were spying on him sometimes when you did. but tonight you found yourself missing the man who was just up the stairs from you, and curled up on the couch in his living room with the stream pulled up on your phone.

“guys i’m gonna wrap things up soon. i have a friend coming over so i have to hop off early tonight,” he explained.

- is it y/n?

- i bet it’s y/n

- ^^ i wish they would stream together again

“maybe one day y/n will come over and come on the stream again. i’ll ask them.” vince smiled, reading the chat.

- he’s blushing!!!

- dunner is in love <3

- //youtube link - vince simping compilation//

- are you two dating yet?

- ^^ they’re just friends

- ^^ sure they are lol

"chat, i need you to stop linking clips about me crushing on y/n," he laughed, the crinkles by his eyes on full display, along with the dimple in his cheek that you loved so much. “we’re just friends.”

you smiled as you watched your boyfriend interact with his viewers, knowing how much they meant to him. hopefully one day soon you would be able to tell them the truth, but you both weren’t ready yet. vince wrapped up the stream, and you shut your phone off as you heard his footsteps coming down the stairs.

“hey, you’re offline early today,” you smiled as he flopped onto the couch next to you. “how was the stream today?”

“it was good. did you watch any of it?” he asked.

“i just caught the last couple minutes,” you smiled mischievously. “you know, when everyone was saying how much you love me.”

“hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you close and kissing your lips softly. “they’re right.”

“do you think we should tell them soon?” you asked, and he shrugged.

“i want to,” he ran his hand over his face. “i just know how people can be. and once it’s out there we can’t take it back, you know?”

“yeah, i get it. for now i’m happy having you all to myself,” you smiled, pulling on his arm until he laid on top of you, his head resting on his chest. your fingers ran through his curls, the soft locks slightly matted down from wearing his headset for so long.

“did you miss me or something?” he teased, and you flicked his forehead with your finger.

“yes, actually,” you pouted, and he laughed as he crawled further on top of you, his hands on either side of your head as his body hovered above yours.

“baby if you want my attention, you just have to ask,” he said sweetly, kissing you again.

“another quote that would get added to the compilation video?” you teased.

“definitely,” he smiled, and it was you that kissed him this time, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down. his teeth played with your bottom lip as you felt more of his weight on top of you.

“are you tired, vin?” you asked, and he nodded, laying fully on top of you now and burying his face in the crook of your neck. you giggled as he kissed your neck, his stubble tickling against your skin. “vince-“ you whined as he nipped at the skin softly, his hands on your waist, fingertips sliding just under the hem of your sweater. he only hummed in response as he left wet kisses up to your jaw. his lips finally traveled up to your again for one more kiss, before he sat up.

“i’m sorry i never pay enough attention to you,” he said, and you shook your head.

“it’s okay, i’m just being clingy,” you laughed. it honestly wasn’t an issue, there were just some nights you wanted to be close to him when you couldn’t. “maybe i could hang out with you on stream again soon, if the viewers are okay with it.”

“sure, you can tomorrow night if you want,” he said, and a devilish smile tugged at his lips.

“why are you making that face?” you asked nervously and he laughed.

“no reason,” he laughed, before pointing at your neck.

“but if you’re going to be on the stream, we’re gonna have to hide that hickey.”

•

prompt @novvasdreamscape

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

#i hate this actually #vince dunn fic #vince dunn x reader #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn #seattle kraken #seattle #seattle kraken fic #nhl #kraken nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl players #real person fiction #hockey fic #hockey #hockey imagine

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rassvetsky · 1 year

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would literally lose my fucking mind if you wrote carmy like touch starved, idk maybe everyone is staying after to celebrate something and he’s dragging you into his office to eat you out with absolutely zero shame because he needs it so bad

your wish is my lifelong quest i love you, hope i did it at least some justice loml

Carry You Away With Me

carmen "carmy" berzatto x fem!reader

He looked sheepish for a moment, lips curling into a grin for another split second before returning to his natural expression, eyes finding yours and locking you into his gaze. "Do you think anyone would notice if I took you elsewhere right now?"

[4k] | chef ill be honest with you this is just porn, needy!carmy (he's fucking adorable), office sex if that's even a term, established relationship, cunningulus, unprotected sex, cum-play. my apologies to the church

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

It was around 11 when you returned to the restaurant with a bottle of champagne cradled in your arms, watching as Gary and Tina pushed a few tables together to make a bigger one for the rest. Eating together wasn't a rare occurrence, but it often only happened an hour before service in the morning— dinners were mostly had at home or skipped altogether, depending on the importance one put into their health. But tonight called for an after-hours get-together, one that Sydney and Marcus pushed for when Ebraheim showed up in the morning with the latest issue of Gastronomica, featuring a very familiar name this time around— Carmen Berzatto.

"You know— I bet you can like, make it to a Vogue issue sometime later on, too."

"That's not exactly food-related."

"I'm just saying, dream high and—"

The few clinks of a spoon against the glass cut Fak right off and Carmen made a mental note to thank god for that later on, his gaze lifting from the long, full table that everyone was surrounding to the source of the sound; the now-empty champagne glass that Richie held.

"Can we all take a moment to stop stuffing our faces with this whatever-the-fuck it is to congratulate my cousin right here?" he spoke up, bringing a smile to your lips as you reached for Carmen's hand from under the table and muttered out "chou à la crème", another dish that Marcus had been experimenting with lately. A short chuckle left Carmen's lips when he vaguely heard what you said, and he gave your hand a firm, appreciative squeeze before rubbing his thumb along the back of your palm. "Gastronomica isn't just any magazine. I think it's supposed to be one of the good ones, like—"

"—the Vogue of food!"

"Maybe! Who knows, anyway— really, I'm proud of this mess of a man and you all should be, too." and maybe this was the most affection that Richie could whip out in public, but it was more than enough— because despite his hate for having the spotlight directly on him, Carmen was currently busy offering a smile to Richie, which the other reciprocated shortly before sitting back down, his quiet little hum of affection drowned out by the mutterings of 'cheers' along with the clink of everyone's glasses.

Proud was an understatement for this little dysfunctional found-family.

But you knew Carmen, you knew that he'd much rather skip on the compliments and pats to the shoulder; and you were way too sure that he'd need a moment to himself sooner or later. That moment came almost fifteen minutes after, when everyone split themselves into a few groups of completely different conversations, scooped up chocolate sauce and cream and small pieces of the delicate pastry got left behind on the empty plates— you felt Carmy's fingers wrapping around your upper thigh, concealed by the dimmed out lights and the table.

"S'up?" you returned your attention to him upon feeling his fingers tapping along to some nonexistent rhythm on your clothed skin, not too invested in the story Richie was busy telling everybody with the loudest voice he could muster to begin with.

"Elsewhere?"

"Not too far, jus' my office. For a couple of minutes at most." he leaned in closer to your ear just so you could hear him over the 2012's pop playlist Manny whipped out earlier, a completely mesmerizing turn of events when he started singing along to a random Katy Perry song— but that leaning closer action proved Carmen to be just another self-saboteur because he was feeling specifically out of place all day and to feel your perfume so close was a pull with a force out of this world. He couldn't pull back away then, couldn't return to his own chair and you had no choice but to push him away manually. "I promise."

"Any ulterior motives I should be aware of?" you grinned, letting your fingers curl right over his own on your thigh— and making a mental note to ease him into the habit of using hand moisturizers regularly sometime, upon the roughed up feel of his skin.

"You wound me, baby." his expression seemed to linger over offense, but his eyes told a completely different story; and before you knew it, he was pushing his chair back to get up, patting Gary's shoulder on his way to the back of house, a momentary turn of his head just so he could silently tell you to follow with his eyes.

And that, you did, despite the raised eyebrows of Richie's that you met along the way.

The kitchen smelled like a different kind of citrus, one that only belonged in dishwashing detergents as you maneuvered through the stations, cleaned up from the day's worth of filth. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Carmen reaching behind to undo the strings of his navy apron, leaving out the top string that he'd have to pull over his head until you could catch up and he could get to the office. His shirt was, again, as pristine as ever and it was a work of magic how he managed to come back home with a perfectly clean white t-shirt each day, if not for a few little drops here and there.

Finally, he pushed open the door of his office for you and you stepped in, finding your way to his desk in the darkness to flip the switch of the small light that illuminated the paperwork mostly. When your eyes found him again, the apron was long gone— tucked away in a corner, folded, although not so neatly. "Happy now?"

Instead of a reply, he just plopped down on the old, squeaky chair by the desk, thighs spread and arms wide open to make space for you. You took the offer right away, seating yourself on one of his thighs but still balancing yourself on your feet too, in order to not just dump your whole body weight on him and potentially numb out his leg. He couldn't care less, as he wrapped himself around you tightly and pulled you closer. "I don't really give a shit about Gastronomica."

"I figured," you mumbled against the material of his shirt, lungs filling in with a scent that only he could carry— a surprisingly pleasant mix of cigarettes, sweat, and gravy. It belonged to him, at least. "When's the last time you gave a shit about anyone's opinion outside of here, anyway?"

A soft hum left his lips, one that feigned agreement— but he wasn't paying much attention to what you've been saying to begin with, mind all muddied with specific moments in time that included you. Come to think of it, he'd been like this all day, even when Richie jokingly smacked him across the face with the magazine or when Tina elbowed him while he was trying to explain why she had to strain the mixture twice to get a flowing consistency— on the back of his mind, there was always you; always the lack of time he got to spend with you when the rush hour got too much to bear and he couldn't bring himself to lift an arm when he came back home to you.

When was the last time he properly touched you, took his time to memorize all the little ridges and beauty spots across your body, he couldn't remember.

So as you spoke, listing out all the reasons why he should be proud of himself for all the accomplishments, Carmen's arm curled around your waist and his fingers found your thighs again, the warmth of his palm seeping through the material of your leggings and from the way they teased upwards, you knew where this was going. "... that you managed to turn— are you not listening?"

His smile was so smug that you wanted to either kiss, or slap him. "Not really. But go on."

"Carmy, if you actually think that I'll do anything non-churchy with you here while everyone's literally twenty feet away, you're so wrong." you breathed out, because that's all you could do when his lips ghosted over the side of yours, before trailing down to where your jawline met your neck. He only hummed as a reply, clearly not giving a shit about your opinion either at that moment— but to say that you weren't enjoying the attention would be a blatant lie.

His fingertips traced the seams outlining your underwear through the extra layer of fabric while his lips latched to your neck, finally, with his warm breath hitting against the sensitive skin and the usual wet nature of his kisses leaving behind a glistening spot of adoration. You leaned into it, rather shamelessly— legs parting and fingers carding through the locks on the nape of his neck, and that only encouraged him further, causing him to whisper out a curse and a few sloppy words of praise. "Just let me, hm? Please?"

The sense of desperation in his tone was enough to push back any words of disagreement that you could blurt out at that moment. You knew you had to power through, it would be so embarrassing and disrespectful to let him have his way with you right here, while everyone else was still at the FOH— but the way his palm covered your clothed core and his fingertips teased the slight outline of your slit, all while his pretty lips were oh so busy whispering absolute filth in your ear was slowly taking away all the care you had in the world. "Carm— not a good idea."

"You weren't saying that last week, right here," two weeks ago, to be exact, but you couldn't blame him for not being able to tell time apart. "Had to cover your mouth and all, s'loud for me—"

"You're getting carried away." you chuckled, the deepest of breaths still not enough for the capacity of your lungs as you tugged on his locks slightly, prying him off of your skin just so you could get a look at him.

"Let me carry you away with me. Please, fuck— I can't think of anything else when you're on my mind." he pulled away a little from your neck, eyes of pristine skies staring right at your soul with the expression of a kicked puppy— he knew exactly how to get his way when he was miserable like that. His fingers were still against your heat, expecting permission. "Ten minutes only, just let me touch you."

You could recognize that tone, that incurability way too well— it was often reserved for nights shared between hushed whispers of promises, where he was too needy to form a single thought and all he could do was to cover your body with his and curl onto you, to feel your warmth against himself and to be one body and one soul for an hour. Uncommon in nature, even rarer to take place in a room that he reserved for professional affairs only— but the heart wants what it wants.

To his surprise, you suddenly pushed your lips against his— letting his fever take over you as well, with your hands clutching onto his shoulders and hair. You could hear the slight groan escaping his lips when his fingers breached under the tight waistband of your leggings, pushing the material down slightly with the bend of his wrist before turning his hand a little to tug it all downwards, urging you up on your feet. You got up from where you were seated, now standing between his legs with your back bent just so your lips would be on his, but he broke the kiss with a smile that took over when he finally pulled down both articles of clothing at the same time. Your back straightened when he managed to push them both down to your ankles, your hands on his shoulders to help with your balance as you stepped out of them, feeling his moist lips over your abdomen for a second before he pushed you backwards slightly, towards the desk.

He took that momentary advantage to get up on his feet and pin you right in between his own body and the desk, hands blindly pushing the loose folders to the side. You felt too exposed when his palms gripped the underside of your thighs just to prop you up on the desk, lips finding and panting against yours, a clear indication of his need seeping through the way he tugged and nibbled before his tongue found its way to caress yours.

There was nothing nice about it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care— not when he whispered your name against the plush of your lips so sweetly when your fist closed around his hair, not when he didn't even know what to do with his hands; grabbing, fondling at every inch of your skin that he could reach shakily. He pulled you flush against his body, letting you get a feel of the harsh dark denim against your bare center and you had to bite into his lower lip to stay quiet, ultimately earning a groan from him when his hands slipped under your shirt.

"Bear," you whispered out, his lips chasing yours when you pulled away to speak— which made you chuckle quietly, as he looked at you again. "Ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," he parroted, the usually wide eyes of his now hooded, pupils blown out as if he was looking right at the sun. When you reached in to kiss him again, you couldn't catch him fast enough— he was already holding onto your thighs to crouch down, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin when you spread your legs a little further apart, a force of habit.

Leaning back on your palms against the desk as much as the cramped space could allow, you took a deep breath— but it wasn't enough to prepare you for what came next when his tongue trailed a bold line across your slit, spreading your folds apart gently. It was a pleasant routine, one that you never quite got used to; because when he was down on his knees with his tongue tracing abstract shapes across your clit in a teasing manner, it was all about you and to think that a guy who often rushed things and went through life at a 2x pace would slow down just to put all of his attention on your pleasure only was more delightful than any compliment one could attain.

Carmen's fingertips were perhaps digging into the skin of your thighs a bit too hard, but could you possibly complain? The tip of his tongue dipped between your folds to spread your essence upwards, a mix of his saliva and your wetness covering your clit when he closed his lips around it and sucked— letting out a blissed groan, one that he'd scold you for if you were the culprit. You could only imagine how hard he must've been at that moment, he was always a sucker for situations like this, with the thrill of doing something so forbidden, right where he could be caught and your taste on his tongue, thighs on either side of his shoulders.

Imagining it didn't help your situation at all, it was hard to focus on one coherent thought when he kept flicking his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves but you forced through— with the thought of the blunt tip of his length all flushed and leaking in your palm, curses leaving his soft lips whenever your fingers got a bit too tight around the girth. He liked it when you put your focus there, tip of your tongue tracing the slit and leaving kisses over it while the rest of your palm jerked him off— firm and slow.

And you'd always let your lips stray when he got close, deciding to suddenly bite into the skin of his inner thighs or to lightly trace his perineum with your tongue, just to have him reduced to a writhing, whining mess with not enough air to survive in his lungs. He'd spill onto your fingers and you'd clean him up right away, moving your way upwards with wet little kisses until you reached his lips. And he was one dirty fucker because tasting himself on you when you kissed him all sloppily was probably one of his favorite things in the world.

Drowned out in all the thoughts, you didn't notice how close you were until your thighs were shaking around his shoulders, and he finally added his fingers into the mix then— his middle and ring fingers easily breaching through, grazing all of your sensitive spots from the inside. You had to press your palm against your mouth to not let a sound then, when your climax finally hit you, and you'd probably slide right off the table with how quaky your whole body was at that moment if it wasn't for Carmen's strong grip on your body, holding you right where you belong.

The position was a bit merciless on his legs so far but he made it up to his feet again, giving you a light peck on your lips before his fingers found his mouth, his tongue circling the digits to clean them up as he stared right at you, into your soul. He pulled them out with a slight pop, and licked his lips clean. "How long did we take?"

"I don't know," you panted out. "I was busy imagining the way you come."

His light laughter brought a tender, yet bittersweet ache to your heart. "Fuck, you get off to that?" and you could tell him all about just how beautiful he was, and how much it turned you on to see him blissed out in pleasure— but you didn't know if your lung capacity allowed for it at that moment, as being quiet came with the benefit of holding your breath for longer than you should. "Tell me more."

You giggled against his lips when he braced himself on the desk with his two hands holding onto the edge on both sides of your thighs. Both of your hands moved down to the front of his pants, too fucked out to care about timing as you palmed him through the material just to see that grin on his lips falter. "I'm gonna make you jack off and watch sometime." you mumbled, slowly pulling the zipper down after setting him free from the belt and the button. He hummed, forehead to forehead, before reaching for another little peck.

"As much as I don't see why I should jack off while you're in front of me," he spoke, a sharp intake of breath cutting his line of thought halfway through when your fingers finally wrapped around his cock. "but— shit, if you're into that… Only if you do it w'me, though. I wanna watch too."

"You don't get to watch." you sighed, bringing him closer with your legs to line his length up with your entrance. "You're just gonna sit there and come on your hand like a loser."

Carmen couldn't help the short snort that left him. "Are you even capable of being mean to me?"

"Mm-hm, I'm very mean when I wanna be." and right after that, his tip slid right into your cavern, pulling a deep exhale from both of you when he pushed a bit deeper. His lips found yours, mostly to keep the noises at bay while his hips rolled into yours, grinding against you before retreating a little, only to push in harder this time around.

You felt so full and blessed that you didn't even have to imagine anything to get lost in the feeling.

His pants slid further downwards with each thrust until they pooled around his ankles and your thighs wrapped tighter around his body, trapping him in. His arms were so delicately wrapped around your waist that you had to hold onto him with your whole remaining power to not slide further towards the wall, but he couldn't exactly notice that when he was feeling so damn lucky, whole length wrapped in a warmth beyond his comprehension.

And again, you couldn't blame him, because neither of you managed to notice when the skin slapping against skin got a bit too loud, and your lips pulled away from his just to breathe out the filthiest little nothings, like how much you needed him to fill you right up to the brim. "Fuck, give it to me." your hips met his thrusts half-way through when you pushed yourself against him. "Carmy, come inside me, please."

"Yeah? Are you gonna take it all?" his voice sounded broken, and his fingers would surely leave imprints on your hips with how tight his grip was. "Won't let you waste a drop, baby. I won't."

Somehow, through how feral he was with the way you were begging him, the responsible side came forward and captured your lips in his again— because while his team was full of respectful people, they were also little shits who would never live it down if they heard those beautiful sounds that escaped your lips with each hit of his blunt head against your sweet spot. The thought somehow egged him on further— he couldn't exactly decide if he was too possessive to let anyone hear or if he was possessive enough to make sure everyone knew he belonged to you, but at that moment, both of those thoughts turned him on too much, enough for him to feel his high approaching. And judging by the way your walls cramped down on him tighter with each passing second, you weren't too far behind.

You could feel yourself gushing around him, coating both of you in your essence beyond simple cleaning, but that was a matter to worry about later, not when the love of your life was balls-deep inside of you, his rough grunts right against your ear when he reached to press his lips right below it. "Close?" he mumbled, and even though your mind was too busy to hear and comprehend him properly, you nodded— feeling his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you closer to the warmth his body provided. And while as much as you'd like to keep this going for longer, witnessing his pace falter and voice break as he moaned out your name, filling you up in the most delicious way slowly was enough to have your eyes roll to the back of your head in pleasure, and to have the knot finally snap.

Your whole body was buzzing, shaky even when he held you so tight against his chest as if you'd vanish right there and then— something that he always did after sex, no matter the circumstance. You giggled wearily against his shoulder, leaving a few kisses here and there before he pulled away slightly to pull you into a kiss— nothing like the ones you shared in the past minutes, this one was all sweet and loving. "Might drip if I pull out."

"You can't stay there forever, Carm."

"Oh, but I want to." he huffed out but still moved to slowly pull out of you anyway, having you both hiss in sensitivity and just like he thought, his come was ready to spill all over the place. Quick-thinker in nature, he caught his seed with his fingers right before they could go further, pushing them back into you just to hear you gasp— and slap his shoulder playfully.

"You're a fucking freak."

"Shut up— round two at my place? Kinda wanna see where that watching me jerk off fantasy of yours might lead us."

a/n: once again i could be easily manipulated into breaking into your house with a part two, who knows

also @carmensberzattos consider this a marriage proposal

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x y/n #carmen berzatto fic #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff

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dandylovesturtles · 5 months

Text

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #rise leo #rise splinter #this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in like #A WHILE #I hope this is coherent at least lol #as usual I have no idea how to end anything #god this is sappy but whatever #I AM CRINGE BUT I AM FREE

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moviecritc · 7 days

Note

Hi! Could you do a driver!reader who is dating Max and is in ferrari and the whole Carlos thing is happening to her so in Australia she ignores team orders and goes to win the race. Charles is mad at her and in the post race interview when asked about it she is just like "Happy multi 21 day everyone" and like Max is so fucking proud his gf is in her reputation era 💅💅💅

on the edge ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

word count: 1.7K

warnings: charles leclerc being himself (a bitch)

a/n: this is my first request it makes me very very happy!! thanks anon for your request, i hope you like this. i love max with all my heart and i love writing about him aswell.

just wanted to tell you guys that for the requests you can ask for reader and oc, even though when it's not a request it'll probably be an oc bc i love to give names to my characters <3

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Y/N didn't have a seat for the upcoming Formula 1 season, and that stressed her out quite a bit. She and Charles had been teammates for three years, and she really thought Ferrari would keep her on the team, but upon learning that Lewis Hamilton was leaving Mercedes, they were the first to snatch him up and turn their backs on her.

Now she had two options: give up, pray to sign with Williams or Haas, or outperform herself this season and force her way into one of the top five teams. And for now, she had chosen the second option. P3 in the first race and in the top five in the second. She was extremely motivated for Australia.

Y/N loved the view of the fireworks from the podium, the champagne, and, above all, celebrating with Max Verstappen. Because let's not lie, it was obvious that Max would be on most of the podiums.

They kept their relationship out of the media. Being coworkers, neither of them wanted their relationship to hinder their success in Formula 1, but that didn't mean they didn't support each other every time the other achieved something.

Max had been with her throughout her Formula 1 career. They were the same age, but when Max debuted in the competition, she was still in Formula 2, battling against Albon and Russell for the title. A year before his debut, Y/N got a spot at Alpha Tauri as a reserve driver. It was in that year that Max and she started a relationship, at first quite casual and sporadic until they realized they were too obsessed with each other not to formalize it. And four years later, they were still together, sharing an attic in Monaco and competing together for the championship.

"It's going to be great for both of us, I'm sure," Y/N nodded. Before each race, they had a kind of ritual where they wished each other good luck, hugged, and kissed.

"I see a Y/Nstappen 1-2," Max assured before giving her a long kiss, resting his arms on his girlfriend's waist.

"I hope so,"

"Oh, come on. You're starting fourth, it'll be bad if you don't get on the podium," Max said. He knew her situation in Formula 1 was tense and did everything he could to make her feel good and positive. Max loved racing with her, and if she ended up off the grid next season, he would probably suffer from seasonal depression.

They kissed once more and were about to hug when someone knocked on Max's door to get them to the drivers' parade. They couldn't complete their little ritual, but neither of them gave it too much importance.

They went out to the parade where she was asked about her future in Formula 1, as they had been doing since the season started. That also annoyed her, would it always be like this from now on? Would everything be oriented towards whether she was unemployed or not? She answered with the best smile she could and ended the interview as quickly as possible.

She returned to Max, who was leaning on the fence of the truck they were being taken in for the parade. She leaned on the railing, holding it with her hands. Then Max discreetly placed his hand on hers, making her smile at the contact. Max wasn't very fond of physical contact, but if he could manage to brush against her shoulder, he would, maintaining professionalism wasn't as easy as it seemed.

"How's it going, mates?" Surprisingly, Leclerc approached them to start a conversation, first fist bumping with Max and then with Y/N, pressing his lips a little.

Their relationship as teammates was quite complicated at the moment. She was killing it in the few races that had passed, while Charles was just doing okay. Plus, although when Y/N joined the team, Charles and she had gotten along very well, that year they had been growing apart for obvious reasons.

They talked for a while about the race and expectations, especially Max and Charles, while Y/N disconnected from the situation a bit. Sometimes she was surprised that Charles and Max got along so well.

"Good luck today, Y/N," Charles said before leaving with Gasly.

Y/N blinked and looked at Max, puzzled. "What did he mean by that?"

"What do you mean?" Max frowned a little.

"He wished me luck, as if he thought I needed it," she insisted, biting her cheek.

"Everyone needs some luck, Y/N," Max said, knowing how nervous she could get when something didn't fit in her head.

"He didn't say anything to you," Y/N argued, crossing her arms.

"I mean…" Max tilted his head a little, eliciting a little smile from Y/N. "Don't dwell on it too much, you'll do great."

She loved that, how Max was able to lift her spirits in any situation, getting a little smile out of her. She loved him for that.

The parade ended, and they each went to their garage, fist bumping as a farewell because anything else would cause a stir in the media. In the Ferrari garage, her engineer commented on the strategies that focused on supporting and defending Charles even if he started two positions below her.

She gave Charles a short glance before going to the cars and taking their respective positions. It’s light and away we go. Y/N was so focused on passing Lando Norris that she didn't realize her boyfriend was no longer in first place, actually, he wasn't there anymore. She asked the engineers what had happened; Max had had some problems with the brakes and had retired from the race. "Don't fuck with me," she said, not fully believing it. "Is Max okay?"

"We don't know, focus on the race," her engineer emphasized.

"When you know, tell me, please," Y/N added, without receiving a response. There had been no accident, no red flag, so he was probably fine. But if there was smoke and sparks, there was always a chance that something had happened to him in the pits.

Y/N took a couple of breaths and refocused on the race. She looked on the bright side; she was third and had a chance to win. A few laps later, she managed to overtake Lando Norris. She pitted, and in the last third of the race, she was in first place. Behind her was Charles, so she thought they would change the strategy, and he would be the one defending the position.

"Y/N, let Charles pass," her engineer said, taking her by surprise.

"What?" Y/N practically shouted. "But I'm in first,"

"They're team orders, let him pass,"

"He's slow! He's over half a second behind me, letting him pass will make me slow down!" She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Y/N."

"If he can overtake me, let him, but I'm not letting him pass. I'm winning this fucking race."

And so it was. Y/N crossed the finish line first, and when she got out of the car, Max was there to greet her with a hug. He tried to make her not notice that there were hardly any people from her team there, but Y/N realized it, and her gaze darkened a little. Still, Charles came second, and when he parked his car, several Ferrari mechanics went to congratulate him.

Max watched Y/N, worried that she would take it badly. But then he saw her exchange a triumphant

look with Charles, who, upon seeing her, turned serious. And if that wasn't enough, she blew a kiss to Charles and then went with Max, who put an arm around her shoulders.

"That was incredible," Max said.

"The race or Charles's face?" she questioned, with an ironic smile.

"Both. I thought you'd be sad because there was no one to greet you,"

"You were there,"

"From your team, I mean," Max explained.

"You and I are a team, Maxie. Have you never thought about that?" She looked at him with a smile. "You're right, we are,"

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked. "I got quite worried when you DNF’d."

"I'm okay, no serious damage,"

"And emotionally?"

"I'm fine. Proud of you, above all," Max nodded. "Now go celebrate your podium, I'll be watching you from below,"

They gave each other a brief kiss on the cheek, not caring too much about the cameras; she had just won the race, she deserved at least a kiss from her boyfriend. She received her prize with a smile and celebrated the podium with Charles and Lando, more with Lando than with Charles. The McLaren driver had congratulated her countless times that day, but Charles barely spoke to her.

"Are you okay, mate?" Y/N asked, knowing what was coming.

"You didn't follow team orders," Charles said directly.

"Oh, right. That," she shrugged, raising her eyebrows. "You came second, Charles. It's not that bad,"

"Damn, but if they tell you to let me pass, you let me pass. What does it matter to you?" he raised his voice a little.

"What does it matter to you? You have your golden seat at Ferrari. Some of us have to work really hard to have a seat, crazy, right?" Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile and turned around, leaving Charles with a word on his lips.

Y/N reached the interview area, where Lando and Oscar were doing their respective interviews.

"Y/N! You won the race by disobeying team orders, does it feel the same as winning a race fair and square?" a man asked.

"Fair and square? I was fast enough to cross the line first, the rest weren't. I think that's how a race is supposed to be won," she argued. She smiled widely; she saw Max was also around, waiting for his turn for interviews.

"Don't you have any remorse?" he questioned.

"Not one,"

She ended the interview after that; she didn't feel like explaining. As she turned around, she found Max with an almost mischievous smile. They fist bumped, and he went to do the interview. "Max, can we ask you about the win of your girlfriend?"

"About Y/N,"

"Yes, about Y/N," he nodded.

"I'm extremely proud of her, it's her second victory, and even though I had to retire, I'm glad she won this race,"

"Even given the circumstances of the victory?" the reporter questioned.

"With the circumstances of the victory," Max assured with a broad smile.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagine #australian gp 2024 #charles leclerc #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv1 fic #mv1 x you #mv33 #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 x you #max verstappen one shot #noraverse 🫧

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forbidden-sunlight · 7 months

Text

yandere! luo binghe with shixiong!male!reader headcanons

Warnings: obsessive behavior, mentions of violence, physical abuse, and blood.

There may also be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

I would like to thank @berrypuddingpwease for helping me expand a concept to full-fledged headcanons featuring one of my favorite characters from MXTX's danmei series, Scum Villian's Self-Saving System, aka SVSSS. This is dedicated to you, my friend :)

So without being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Luo Binghe had suffered one tragedy after another in his life, and being a disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect with a scummy master would later serve as the foundation of his twisted personality in the future. You know it will happen because you have read it. This world you had woken up in, is none other than the famous stallion novel, Proud Immortal Demon Way. Your current incarnation wasn’t a member of Luo Binghe’s three digit harem nor the villain Shen Quingqui, but an extra, a senior disciple in Qing Ding Peak.

Since you weren’t equipped with a system, at least that you were currently aware of at the moment, it wouldn’t be considered OOC for canon fodder to try and be a good mentor to the current white lotus that is Luo Binghe, or try to improve your own cultivation so there was a chance you would survive the sect’s demise when the protagonist emerged from the Endless Abyss as an awakened Heavenly Demon.

It started off with the small things; greeting Luo Binghe with a smile whenever you saw him, sneaking an extra bit of food or medicine into the woodshed when you were sure no one was watching you, especially Shen Qingqiu. He might be a good teacher, but his temper was a legend in this peak.

The only way you could help Luo Binghe improve himself was to purposely compare your cultivation manual with the one he had, the false one written by the peak lord in an attempt to thwart the protagonist’s growth. By doing this, it would add another reason for Luo Binghe to hate his shizun.

You allowed him to borrow your book to copy any information he needed, as long as he was discreet. Lup Binghe swore to take good care of the manual, holding it close to his chest with sparkling eyes as he stared at you with a smile. It was cute, this white lotus version of Binghe.

Seeing positive changes in how behavior had been worth withstanding Shen Qingqiu’s anger, especially when he found out just the other day that you were the culprit who had been sneaking an extra portion of food to the protagonist. Good things the sleeves of the cultivation uniform were long enough to hide the bruises starting to form on your arms. There’s no doubt that the sect leader will start dishing out punishment to you from now on, even for the smallest mistake.

Oh, well. You’ll just have to be more careful in behaving around the rest of the sect and Binghe from now on. Still, how could he continue to grow without triggering the events that would lead to his blackening?

As you contemplated these thoughts, you could not have realized nor believed just how much of your presence in this world the plot of Proud Immortal Demon Way in very unexpected ways until it was too late to revert the damage that had already been done.

Luo Binghe is a very sticky, lovesick puppy for the shixiong who has treated him with so much kindness and respect and it scares him. He’s afraid he’ll wake up one morning….and realize that it had been a sweet, sweet dream. But he wakes up early every morning, and he sees his shixiong teaching the others alongside Ming Fan….and when his shixiong sees him, he smiles. And it is a warm, friendly smile that Binghe secretly wishes would belong only to him and no one else.

With his shixiong, Binghe’s life in the peak is so much better. He hasn’t been this happy in a long, long time…so why was his shizun continuing to punish his shixiong so unfairly? His shixiong didn’t do anything wrong! He is training him and the other disciples in preparation for the Immoral Alliance Conference, and doing more than his fair share of the chores around the peak!

But no matter what his shixiong did or did not do, their shizun would pull him away from him or the others, and his shixiong would not return to the bamboo house until it was past dinner-time.

Shixiong tried to brush off his concerns with a smile, but Binghe wasn’t blind! He sees the angry whip marks on his senior’s arms, his head and robes soaked with tea, the pained look in his eyes! Shixiong….Shixiong doesn’t deserve to be treated like this!

He needed to get stronger. Not just to protect himself but to make sure Shen Quingqui wouldn’t hurt his shixiong ever again! And if the sect didn’t accept them being together, then they will find happiness elsewhere. Rogue cultivators did exist beyond these mountains, although the other disciples believed they were wholly evil. But Binghe has come to realize that this world isn’t just black and white.

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002yb · 1 month

Note

I'm sure Jason misses the time Dick would smile at him and pet his head "you did great little wing", he tries so much to get Dick to do this again

(I just want Dick to tell Jason he's a good boy, he deserves it)

It's an accident. A faux pas, even. They're riding a high from a successful, impromptu joint venture though so Dick just - he doesn't think.

Lingering adrenaline makes him thoughtless, stupid. So he just...

'Thanks for the assist out there, little wing.'

All while brazenly ruffling Jason's hair and smiling at him like a fool. Foreheads bumping, Dick's hands coming to hold Jason's face, squishing his cheeks some, thumbs brushing his temples; scratching through his hair - all bright-eyed and breathless, filled with hope and wonder and a forgotten thrill.

Problem is? This isn't their relationship. It never was (though maybe it could have been). It's just what Dick had wanted after - after.

So it's a little embarrassing. Because this isn't an old habit from their bygone youth, just a lingering regret and a willful want that Dick doesn't deserve to have. Maybe they shared a few tender moments like this before (triumphant, invincible), but it didn't happen nearly enough to justify this familiarity.

That's what Dick reasons, at least. Especially after Jason goes impossibly still at receiving Dick's praise and affections.

It's okay though. For all Jason's perceived distaste towards him, Dick plays it cool. No use making things more awkward for the both of them.

So Dick pulls away, laughing it off before dipping like a coward to lick his wounds. And he's not usually so antsy, but it's always been different with Jason. Too many wishes and wants; could-have-beens that haunt him, should-have-dones something that lingers in his mind and weighs heavy on his heart.

Ie. Dick is despondent.

M e a n w h i l e: Jason. Who is very much left behind with the most flustered and bemused expression because what.

What's more? Jason getting shy about the exchange. //u///

He brings his own hand to his head to try and hang on to the feeling of Dick ruffling his hair (gripping and playfully tugging it, too because ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º )), the sweetest little blush staining his cheeks.

He's reminded of when he was a brat - the few times he managed to make Dick proud and Dick would get like that.

And just. Jason isn't some punkass that needs anyone's validation anymore. He doesn't care to please anyone. As a big strong independent baddie bitch, he doesn't chase after praise--

Only he does. Because he's a big strong independent baddie bitch and he likes that bullshit.

Like fuck Jason won't get it again.

Which leads to Jason's good boy era as Red Hood because he wants more affection and praise from Dick - because he wants to be the cause of such a devastatingly wonderful smile.

Just - Jason being so aggressive about this new goal of his. Being purposefully over the top good and agreeable and then standing off to the side, head lowered just a fraction in anticipation of more hair ruffles and head pats and closeness.

Only Dick is still reserved and restraining himself. He doesn't want to overstep with Jason again. Especially since Jason has been willing to work with him again lately.

So Dick gives Jason an arm pat instead, hahaha.

And Jason stares after him as Dick walks away - eyes wide and jaw dropped because w h a t. All that effort for a fucking arm pat?

The betrayal. The devastation. Oh, Jason would rage.

Which leads to the Return of the Red Hood, part x.

#dickjay #jaydick

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iinsertblognamee · 8 months

Text

matildas; the world at our feet ft Y/N

summary ― clips from the docuseries

pairing ― sam kerr x arnold!reader

warning/s ― fluff, character injury, mentions of IVF, pregnancy

based off this request

[BLACK SCREEN: BADLY RECORDED AUDIO]

UNKNOWN MALE VOICE: We need to know if she is ready to play for the world cup. We can’t waste spots on someone who isn’t game ready, especially not after the hit she took a couple months back.

TONY GUSTAVSSON: I know she’ll be ready. I want her on my team - and help us win that world cup.

[SCREEN SLOWLY LIGHTS UP, FOCUSING ON Y/N SITTING ON KITCHEN STOOL]

Y/N ARNOLD: I know how much I want this, how much I want to be apart of the girls taking us to the world cup and I know i’ll do anything to get there.

[PICTURES OF Y/N KICKING A SOCCER BALL FROM HER MATCHES]

Y/N ARNOLD: As a young girl I knew I always wanted to play sport - I would watch men play at such high levels and wished that could be me.

[CUTTING BACK TO Y/N]

Y/N ARNOLD: And now that I’m here, I’m not going to let anything stop me.

…

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; SAM AND Y/N SITTING DOWN ON A COUCH, LAUGHING]

SAM KERR: It think one of the toughest things i’ve had to do so far is admit to Macca that I was dating her little sister (Y/N LAUGHS, THROWING HER HEAD BACK)

Y/N ARNOLD: That can’t be true! Mac isn’t that - (SAM GIVES HER A SHOCKED LOOK, Y/N LAUGHS AGAIN) - Okay, so she’s a little protective!

SAM KERR: She threaten to break my legs so I would never be able to score another goal again.

[SCENE CUTS TO MACKENZIE’S HOUSE; MACKENZIE, LOUGNING BACK ON A COUCH]

MACKENZIE ARNOLD: Yeah, told her she’d never be able to score another goal if she hurt my little sister.

(LOOKS STRAIGHT AT THE CAMERA, SHRUGGING HER SHOULDERS)

[SCENE CUTS BACK TO SAM AND Y/N]

Y/N ARNOLD: but you aren’t scared of her anymore are you? I mean she’s a lot better now

SAM KERR: Yeah, no. Macca and I are good now (LOOKS DIRECTLY AT CAMERA AND SHAKES HER HEAD, MOUTHING ‘NO, WE’RE NOT’)

…

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; Y/N STANDING AT HER KITCHEN BENCH, MAKING LUNCH]

Y/N ARNOLD: I think as important as this world cup is for us, it’s a million times more important for the fans and the future fans. Like my heart beats faster just thinking about all those little girls who are going to be at home watching us on screen and realise that this is a possibility for them.

…

[CLIPS OF THE MATILDAS TRAINING]

SAM KERR: I am so increbiley proud of the team we’ve become, you know. I feel like this is the team that’s gonna win it and in twenty years time i’ll know I was apart of the team that made history.

…

MONTHS TO THE WORLD CUP; 16

11th MARCH 2022

WEST HAM UNITED VS CHELSEA

[CLIPS OF THE STADIUM, CROWDS FILLING IN]

COMMENTATOR: The atmosphere inside this stadium is electric.

[CLIPS OF THE TWO TEAMS LINED UP ON THE FIELD]

Y/N ARNOLD: It’s really exciting getting to play these kind of games you know? Having my sister on field, even if it is for the opposite side.

[CLIPS OF THE GAME PLAYING]

Y/N ARNOLD: I don’t remember much of the game really but yeah.

[CLIP OF Y/N RUNNING FOR THE BALL IN THE AIR, HER AND AN OPPONENT JUMP IN THE AIR TO HIT THE BALL - A SECOND OPPONENT RUNNING AND JUMPING, HER BODY SLAMING INTO Y/N. Y/N HITS THE FLOOR - NOT MOVING]

COMMENTATOR: Something’s happened - Y/N Arnold has not gotten up after that brutal hit.

[CLIP ON Y/N LAYING ON THE GROUND, TEAMMATES FROM BOTH TEAMS RUNNING TOWARDS HER - SAM SHAKING HER]

COMMENTATOR: Y/N Arnold still down. This doesn’t look good.

[CLIP BACK ON Y/N, MEDICS TRYING TO ASSESS HER - STILL NOT RESPONSIVE, CLIP CHANGES TO THE CROWD, SHOWING FANS CRYING]

MACKENZIE ARNOLD: I think that was probably the scariest moment of my career.

[MACKENZIE’S HOUSE; MACKENZIE SITTING ON A COUCH]

MACKENZIE ARNOLD: I saw her go down, but you know growing up in our household you would always get up. And I remember watching my teammates walk off, so I turned my attention back to the ball.

[CLIP OF MACKENZIE RUNNING TOWARDS Y/N]

MACKENZIE ARNOLD: it probably wasn’t for another couple of seconds when I heard yelling did I look back and saw Y/N still on the ground.

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; SAM SITTING ON A COUCH]

SAM KERR: I remember her going down, and next thing I know Millie is running towards her with some of the other girls screaming at the ref. (pauses.) By the time I had gotten over there, she still hadn’t moved or woken up and my heart just stopped y’know?

[CLIPS OF Y/N SURROUNDED, MEDICS TRYING TO GET A REPOSNE]

MACKENZIE ARNOLD: She’s never been the one to stay down - and I think that was the scariest part. Like I know my sister and I know that she can come back from just about anything. But this - this was scary.

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; Y/N SITTING ON A COUCH, LOOKING PAST THE CAMERA]

Y/N ARNOLD: I’ve seen the clips, watched it over and over again. And like I know it’s me, I watch myself hit the ground but I just don’t remember any of it.

[CLIP OF MACKENZIE HOLDING Y/N’S HAND AS MEDIC CARRY HER OFF THE FIELD ON A STRETCHER, SAM HOLDING HER OTHER HAND]

Y/N ARNOLD: I had a grade three concussion, a dislocated shoulder and had split my eyebrow open, to which i needed to get stitches for.

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; SAM SITTING ON A COUCH]

SAM KERR: I still remember the second that final whistle blew, Mac and I were off that field and running towards the medic room. They were still doing examinations on her, and I still remember them asking Y/N for her full name and she couldn’t answer. That - I can’t even. (pauses.) I don’t ever want to go through that again.

[MACKENZIE’S HOUSE; MACKENZIE SITTING ON A COUCH, WIPING AWAY TEARS FROM HER EYES]

MACKENZIE ARNOLD: It was just so scary you know, (sniffling, as she shakes her head) the look on her face when Sam and I walked in that room - like she didn’t recognise who we were.

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; Y/N SITTING ON A COUCH]

Y/N ARNOLD: I honestly don’t remember much of what happened even a few days later, but I remember just thinking about the world cup and just believing that I’d lost my chance. There was no way I was ever going to be able to play again, not with these injuries.

…

[CLIP OF SAM AND Y/N PLAYING WITH Y/N’S NIECES]

Y/N ARNOLD: As a kid I always had two dreams, to become a famous athlete and to become a mother.

[PHOTOS OF YOUNG Y/N HOLDING BABY DOLLS]

Y/N ARNOLD: As my soccer got more serious, I kinda pushed the whole kids dream in the back of my mind y’know. It was like you could either be a soccer star or be a mother. You can’t have both.

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; SAM AND Y/N SITTING DOWN ON A COUCH, Y/N LOOKING OVER AT SAM]

Y/N ARNOLD: After the whole injury drama, I had been benched for minimum three months. Appointment after appointment, I wasn’t allowed back to training - couldn’t drive myself anywhere and I just found myself at home looking at photos of babies and watching my nieces over facetimes. (SAM LOOKING OVER TO Y/N, SMILING)

SAM KERR: We had definitely talked about kids before, but soccer was always more important i think - and neither of us wanted to give it up just yet. (Y/N NODDING ALONG) but suddenly Y/N had a lot more time on her hands and after many conversations with ourselves, our families and our coaches. Researching IVF and you know all the options within that we decided to start our family.

[VIDEOS AND PICTURES OF Y/N PREGNANT; SOME INVOLVING SAM, FRIENDS AND FAMILY]

SAM KERR: It was such a surreal experience, watching the person you love bring in your child into the world. (SAM BRINGING Y/N’S HAND TO HER LIPS AND GIVING THEM A KISS)

Y/N ARNOLD: Having delilah was just so eye-opening I think for both of us. And the second they put her in my arms, my whole world had shifted.

[CLIPS OF SAM, Y/N AND BABY DELILAH]

SAM KERR: I couldn’t love anyone or anything as much as I love my two girls.

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; SAM SITTING DOWN ON A COACH, AS Y/N COMES IN THE FRAME - DELILAH IN HER ARMS]

SAM KERR: Hi my little baby (REACHING OUT TO TAKE DELILAH OUT OF Y/N’S HANDS AS Y/N SITS BACK DOWN NEXT TO SAM)

Y/N ARNOLD: (WATCHING SAM AND DELILAH INTERACT) I remember throughout the whole pregnancy I wanted to create a legacy for her, y’know? Something she could look up to and know that she could reach whatever dreams she wanted. I think that was my tipping point like this was the moment I realised I wanted to be back in the game. I want to play in the world cup. I want to win that world cup for her. (LOOKING ONCE MORE AT SAM BEFORE BACK TO THE CAMERA)

Y/N ARNOLD: That’s that exactly what I intend to do.

…

[TRAINING FIELD; MACKENZIE HOLDING DELILAH, AS ALANNA AND CAITLIN TICKLE HER]

MACKENZIE ARNOLD: Who’s your favourite D? (DELILAH GIGGLING) That’s right Aunty Mac’s is your favourite and I always will be (KISSING DELILAH ON THE CHEEK, DELILAH GIGGLING AGAIN)

SAM KERR: Who’s torturing my daughter? (SAM COMING INTO THE FRAME, ARMS OUT TO TAKE DELILAH OFF MACKENZIE) It’s okay baby, mama will save you! I’ll always save you. (KISSING HER ON THE CHEEK OVER AND OVER AGAIN)

[CAMERA SHIFTS TO ELLIE CARPENTER]

ELLIE CARPENTER: Our own little mascot!

…

[SAM AND Y/N’S HOUSE; Y/N SITTING DOWN ON A COUCH]

Y/N ARNOLD: So many of my dreams have come true in this journey, I joined the matildas, I got signed on to play for Chelsea. I met the love of my life. Married the love of my life and had our daughter. Like I just can’t believe how my life has turned out. If little Y/N could see us now.

VOICE FROM BEHIND THE CAMERA: What else do you want to achieve?

Y/N ARNOLD: I want to take that world cup trophy home.

#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagines #sam kerr imagine #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #request

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

To go off the anons request, could you imagine them separately teasing her and the reader gives them a random name, completely different one to each, and then they're confused when they bring it up and they both say a different name before they realize they were tricked?

part I | part II | part III | part IV

"Chili." You repeat to Eddie, "Like the Red Hot Chili Peppers."

Eddie quirks up a brow at your unusual code name, "Why, is he a redhead or something?"

No, you scoff internally, he's just hot.

"Yeah," You nod, locking in your fate, "He's got really nice hair."

"Not better than mine." Eddie narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, "Because nobody has better hair than mine."

"I think Steve would disagree with you," You quip, delighting at the flash of jealousy through Eddie's eyes, "But no, he doesn't have better hair than you."

"Good answer, Princess," Eddie picks at your cold french fries across the middle of his van with more interest than he'd shown his own food, "'Cause if you told me this idiot has better hair than me I'd have to kill him."

"Good luck," You remember Steve's remarkable ability with a bat, "He's pretty tough."

"Sounds like a douche," Eddie scoffs lightheartedly, "You sure you wanna get with this guy when a hunk like me's sittin' right here?"

He drags the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal his less-than-remarkable muscle build, his arm lacking definition as he flexes it to the best of his abilities.

"Eddie!" You giggle, his skin pale beneath his sleeve from a lack of sun exposure, "Put that away, you're blinding me!"

"You little shit!" Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh and the motion of his head sends his hair bobbing around his shoulders. He pelts you with a french fry that you barely dodge, "'Last time I let you talk my ear off about Chili."

"Lookin' for Pineapple?" Steve leans over to stage-whisper into your ear as you crane your neck around at the tackily-decorated walls of the diner in search of a clock. His breath fans hot over your skin and you tense, but he takes it as embarrassment rather than attraction, and you're thankful for that.

"No!" You insist, and it's true, because Pineapple, rough on the outside, sweet on the inside, just happens to be sitting across from you, his white sneaker knocking into your own shoe as he plays footsie with you beneath the table, "Shut up, Steve."

"Pineapple?" Eddie's brows furrow as he sips on a milkshake, "You're having strawberry, sweetheart, pineapple would be shit with that."

"Not the food," Steve relishes in the bragging rights he's about to unleash, "That's her code name for her crush."

Eddie's mouth drops indignantly open before you can stop it, and you swear if it had happened any faster some of his milkshake would have come out. But he sends a swift kick to your shin under the table, "You tricked me!"

Steve isn't so proud now, confusion tugging his brows down, "Tricked him?"

"She told me his code name was Chili." Eddie sits back against the booth behind him, crossing his arms over his chest, "Which one's the real one?"

"Neither," You admit, trying to bury your face in your milkshake so that you can attribute the tremble of your voice to the audio distortion of the glass, "I don't have code names for either of them, I just wanted to give you more information so you'd get off my back!"

You wish you'd thought about your words before they escaped. But now Steve and Eddie were gaping at each other with gleeful scandal in their eyes, "Either of them?"

"There's two?!" Steve elbows you, and you let out a choked groan into your glass.

"No more questions!" You feel Eddie's feet pin one of yours between them, his shit-eating grin meeting you from over the table, "Shut up and drink your milkshakes!"

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ttoddii · 2 months

Text

touch starved bada headcannons

pairing(s): bada lee x f!reader, bada x floor (are you proud of me carly)

warnings: smut, MDNI, AGELESS BLOG DNI, phone sex, exhibitionism(?), long distance, not proofread, bad description, bad grammar, lowercase intended.

a/n: the cunty idea that me and carly had been talking about since the very first day we met. i hope y'all enjoy this, even when i write smut like i'm virgin mary 💀

special note: i love you carly bestie mwa mwa.

taglist: @missminho; @taniio; @vvsbada (comment under my posts to be add/remove)

⊹₊ ⋆ you and bada had always been like moon and star, wherever she is, you are, and vice versa, so when she has to leave for one of her oversea dance class, and you guys were forced to be separated, bada did not take that lightly.

⊹₊ ⋆ bada would call you every single night saying that she miss you a lot, and she wish you could be there with her right now.

⊹₊ ⋆ would be very open with you about what she want to do if you're there. hugging you, kissing you, fucking you senseless.

⊹₊ ⋆ touch starved bada who would go to class planning to focus on work but immediately think of you when she grind herself against the floor.

⊹₊ ⋆ bada who would try to regain her composure but couldn't help it when her mind is clouded with how pretty you look under her when you guys are fucking in bed.

⊹₊ ⋆ usually when bada dance she would already feel the hotness build up through time, but this time, when she's away from you, and her mind is hazy from how she couldn't focus, she could feel her whole body burning from neediness.

⊹₊ ⋆ bada who would take glances at the clock every now and then to wish for the time to pass by quicker.

⊹₊ ⋆ when the class is finally over and everyone take their leave, she would immediately take out her phone to text you.

⊹₊ ⋆ poor baby has to deal with her touch starved self on her own :(

⊹₊ ⋆ would call you as soon as you reply to her text and tell you how needy she is.

⊹₊ ⋆ "fuck baby i am so hot right now i need to let off some steam"

⊹₊ ⋆ touch starved bada who would touch herself everywhere while on call with you in hope to let the hotness die down.

⊹₊ ⋆ she would be touching her breast, wrapping her arms around her waist, imagining how you would do the same to her when you guys are in bed.

⊹₊ ⋆ bada would grind against the floor, searching for the friction she much needed, but never get what she want, it's just not you :(

⊹₊ ⋆ touch starved bada who would occasionally give out a breathy moan or fasten up her breath when she touch herself in the right place.

⊹₊ ⋆ bada would make sure to compliment you, imagining you under her while she grind herself against the floor, making you blush even through the screen.

⊹₊ ⋆ "fuck baby you're doing so good, keep grinding, just like that"

⊹₊ ⋆ bada who would turn on the camera so you know how badly she needs you to be there so she could do all the things she's doing on screen.

⊹₊ ⋆ mean bada who would make you turn on your camera so she could see your pretty face while she say the dirtiest things to turn you on.

⊹₊ ⋆ "god i wish i could thrust up that pussy right now"

⊹₊ ⋆ "darling i think i'm about to cum"

⊹₊ ⋆ bada who would ask for permission to cum while her brows furrow and her teeth bite down on her lower lip.

⊹₊ ⋆ bada who would definitely fuck you until you cannot walk properly when she come back.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ bonus:

🌊: pick up the phone, i won't wait for long.

scared that she is having trouble with something, you immediately pick up the call that shows on your phone.

"bada what happened?", you asked, your hurried tone clearly indicating that you're worried about her.

and bada respond with turning on her camera, her body barely being cover with how she had thrown her jacket to the side, her thin shirt not doing its job with how her sweat seep through the white fabric, revealing the bra inside.

"fuck, i'm just... very needy right now, need to fuck you so bad", bada said, her voice low and husky with how she's feeling.

and you stare, wishing that you could be there when bada almost lay on the floor, her strong lean arms holding her body up as her lower body thrust itself to the floor slowly, yet sharply.

"gonna fuck you so good you can barely remember who you are, gonna please you, you would like that wouldn't you"

you could only stare, speechless at what she's doing, but you would also feel yourself getting hotter by the second as you look at how your girlfriend grind on the floor, thinking of you.

but again, you can take control, with how hazy bada's eyes are, how needy she is, how she is basically squeezing her own breast, how she needily try to get herself some friction from grinding against the floor.

you can definitely take control of the all mighty girlfriend you has.

"bada, touch yourself for me"

#bada swf2 #bada smut #bada lee smut #bada x reader #bada lee x reader #swf2 x reader #swf2 #⟢ tod's chaos #☪︎₊ ⊹carly bestie

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spiriteddreams · 1 year

Text

flee(ting)

— a kiss that isn't meant to happen but does so anyway Pairing: Jing Yuan x Reader Warnings: angst, no comfort, reminiscing memories of someone (who isn't dead), possibly ooc jing yuan i just met the man hehe Word Count: ~1.3k A/N: the question was if i should write code or write a jing yuan fic and guess what i chose to do

time is fleeting. it is the steady drag of hands around a circle, the clock paying no mind to the desperation that people cling to in the hope that time will stop for just a moment and allow for just a little more. jing yuan finds that he curses time without knowing it. he stands behind his desk, hands behind his back as he looks at the papers scattered across his desk, his scrawled handwriting detailing reports from the cloud knights, logistics within the xianzhou alliance, and piled in the corner, never to be put away, are the sparsely gathered notes of your whereabouts.

he finds himself reaching for the papers, thumbing through the paper, some recent, others months, now years, old. he finds that he can’t quite remember the last time he saw you, and the memory of your last moments with him have begun to slip from the front of his memory. he hates the feeling. he curses the fact that he cannot hear your laughter echoing in his office any longer, as if your own memory was pulling away, trying to flee from the grasp he has so selfishly held onto for so long. you were there, and then you weren’t. an expedition gone wrong, a ship attacked and no sign of communication, now labeled as a closed case by the xianzhou alliance. but those close to jing yuan know that he’s never truly given up on it. instead he finds his mind drifting back to the day of your departure.

“don’t worry about me,” you stand proud at the docks, decorated outfit a sign of your standing in luofu. both yours and his companions had allow you both some space, privacy amongst the boxes of cargo and decorated architecture. jing yuan has no reason to doubt your abilities, after all, you had risen in the ranks alongside him and he is more than confident in your own skill. that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried. he can fight in wars, lead soldiers into the dark unknown and yet the thought of you leaving for an expedition scares him more than he would like to admit. it’s the nagging feeling that tugs in the back of his mind, warning him to ask you to stay, just one more time.

but jing yuan had always been good at hiding his intentions, presenting a calm and collected front to offer some semblance of comfort to those that look up at him. and he finds that his facade is a bit too easy to put on as he chuckles softly at your words.

“you will make all of us proud,” his voice is uncharacteristically soft, and he’d be damned if his companions heard the way he spoke to you in private. “i look forward to your return.”

you smile softly, offering him a reassuring smile, “i’ll be back before you know it.” he isn’t sure if the smile is meant to reassure him or you. there are unsaid words between the two of you, a delicately drawn line that the neither of you have dared to cross. instead, over the years you’ve resorted to a game of cat and mouse, both of you taking turns to play predator and prey. what went from teenage games has become something more, and yet neither of you had the courage to cross the line. he curses time in this moment, wishing that he could have just a bit longer to sort out this poorly woven tapestry that the two of you have created. he wants to tie the loose ends and seal it off, but you’re already slipping from his grasp.

“jing yuan—“ hands cup your cheeks before you can finish speaking and he pulls you close, lips desperately finding yours as your hands fly up to steady yourself on him. he’s moving all too fast, heart thundering and mind racing as he pulls away, wide eyed and apologies on his lips. but they die when he sees the subtle movement of you chasing after him, hands curling around his clothes as your lips tremble. you stare at him in shock but make no move to pull away.

“come back to me, promise me,” he breathes out. his hands fall to your waist as if to steady you and to keep him grounded. he doesn’t care if anyone else is around any longer. let them see for all he cares, and let them know how much he will miss you while you’re away.

“of course,” you sound breathless, eyes searching his. you smile gently and let your hand come up to gently cup his cheek. your other hand goes to brush away the hair that has fallen into your face. you stay like that for a moment, indulging in one second, two seconds, three seconds— you pull away.

your hands move to the back of your head, fingers tugging at the red ribbon in your hair. it’s silk of the finest kind, and yet you pull it free in one swift movement.

“take this as my promise,” you offer it to him with a smile that almost worries him. “give it back to me when i return.” he smiles in amusement but indulges in letting his fingers drag across your palm as he takes it from your hand.

then time calls back to you both as the ship horn sounds, a signal to prepare to leave. he swallows thickly when neither of you make an effort to go. no doubt your companions will come searching so he takes the step forward again and pulls you close, sealing every unsaid word with a kiss that has you grasping at him to stay close. you two aren’t meant to be doing this in secret. you aren’t meant to be behind cargo boxes like teenagers, holding onto one another as if you were dying in his arms. and yet here you are.

“i should go,” you step away first and jing yuan feels his chest constrict. he can’t read the emotions in your eyes, the way you can’t meet his gaze, the way your fingers tremble, and the way you take deep breaths as if to calm yourself. but you cast aside his worries when you shake your head and throw your arms around him, hugging him tight. his hands find placement at your back and you stay like that until your companions find you locked in embrace.

“general.” a sharp voice cuts him from his daydreams and jing yuan looks at the holographic image of yukong standing by his desk. she looks upset, more so than usual and he puts on an easy expression as he asks what’s wrong.

“we have guests from the astral express, tingyun has informed me they are on their way. we’ll send over more information as they arrive.” he nods as she disappears. jing yuan looks back over at the papers and sighs. his hand comes up to thumb at the ribbon in his hair and he asks if you are still out there and well.

time is fleeting. and jing yuan wishes you had promised to return, not avoided the words as if you knew that you wouldn’t return. he wishes you didn’t give him the ribbon, and he wishes you never kissed him farewell.

— — —

extra: so why is it, that when he receives word of travellers from the astral express arriving in luofu that he catches a glimpse of your face amongst the group that has come. why is it, that when tingyun and yukong greet you with some familiarity, you shy away and apologize that you don’t quite recognize them. and why is it, that it hurts so damn much when you look at him with no remembrance of who he is. the ribbon in his hair feels like it’s slipping.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 © spririteddreams

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail angst #spiriteddreams writing #spiriteddreams

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flowerandblood · 5 months

Text

The Taste of Shame (5)

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, aggression, possessive behaviors, remorse, feeling of shame ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients - however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. It turns out that what he wants and what he doesn’t no longer matter when he meets his friend’s younger sister for the first time. Slow burn, sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Nothing more than kisses and cuddles happened between them that night, and although he was dying of lust and desire feeling her so close, he felt surprisingly good about waking up feeling her warm, soft hand stroking his cheek.

He lay there for a while with his eyes closed, just focusing on how pleasant and innocent the experience was, so far from what he had been doing for the last four years of his life.

He felt a kind of peace and fulfilment, a relief that she was still with him, that she had given him the chance to show her what he really wanted.

He opened his eyelids slowly and hummed quietly, stroking her back lazily with his large hand − she smiled sleepily at him, her loose hair in a slight disarray that, however, only added to her charm.

He pulled her close to him and kissed her in a drawn-out manner with a soft click − she purred into his mouth with a smile, surprised. He sighed, pressing his forehead against hers, devastated by the fact that they both had to go to their classes.

He texted her as soon as he arrived at the university, wishing her a good day and thanking her for giving him another chance, that he was happy and that, if that's what she wanted, they could meet without sex for now, just to be in each other's embrace.

For the first time in a long time, he felt proud of himself.

He felt mature.

They had agreed to spend the weekend together, maybe go to the cinema, have a beer at some pub or watch a series at his house, just relax together.

Like a couple.

He pressed his lips together with satisfaction just thinking about the fact that the more he was honest with her the more he got the feeling that things would work out, that they both had a weakness for each other and that maybe something would come of it.

He didn't like the fact that she kept lying to her family about spending this time at her friend's house, but he understood that she didn't feel ready yet, neither of them talking about anything officially recognising that it was a tad too early.

That evening when she arrived at his place they set off straight for his favourite pub housed in an old, eclectic building full of old photographs and paintings.

They sat at the bar; he liked that she was dressed as usual, in high-waisted trousers with her T-shirt tucked in − this didn't make him feel obliged to dress smartly, finding sitting in his black trousers and tight sweatshirt appropriate.

They ordered themselves a drink each, glancing at the TV hanging above them, news from their country was just airing. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, tapping his finger on the tabletop, and felt his heart squeeze when she noticed this and smiled at him.

He felt like kissing her, but refrained.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked lightly and he swallowed loudly, flinching as the barman handed them their orders − he took a quick sip of his whisky and grunted.

"About how… how I'm glad I told you about it all then, after the lecture, you know?" He hummed, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling hot in his lower abdomen at the thought that she was so close, that he was going to spend as much as two days with her.

He swallowed hard feeling the throbbing in his trousers, trying not to think about the fact that they would be sleeping in the same bed.

She smiled gratefully at his words, lowering her gaze − he stared at her admiring under the light how long and shiny her eyelashes were when she sat in that position.

"− I'm very happy too − you surprised me, but I felt that you were stifling something inside you and that you were suffering − the very first day I saw you outside our house −" She said softly, taking a slow sip of her drink, looking up at him after a moment.

He was silent for a while, just looking at her gentle face, at the expression of serenity that shone from it, that somehow gave him a sense of security.

"− I suffered for many reasons at the time −" He muttered in a slightly trembling voice. "− mostly because I realised that because of what I was doing, I could never have you −"

"− you have me −" She said with embarrassment, her eyebrows arched in slight amusement and a kind of tender emotion. "− you have broken into my heart and fill it completely −"

He licked his lower lip involuntarily, looking at her intensely, feeling her words in the form of heat on his cheeks and in his trousers − he found to his dismay that he had become completely hard and shifted in his seat. He stared at her for a moment with his lips slightly parted, unable to get a word out.

I think I'm falling in love with you, he thought, but nothing came out of his throat.

Ignoring the other people standing and sitting at the bar beside them, he cupped her cheek in his free hand, leaned over and kissed her, clinging to her soft, moist lips for a long moment, hearing her quiet sigh of delight. Her fingers ran over his hand and then kissed it, in a gesture so tender that he felt ashamed.

He had done such fucked-up things with those hands, and now her innocent, warm lips were kissing him as if he were a saint.

He had no idea how he was supposed to keep his hands to himself this night.

They both grunted, seeing the other's gazes on them, and moved away from each other, changing the subject.

They chatted for a while about her studies and the new book on modern philosophy she was reading when suddenly someone patted her on the back, two guys and a girl stood behind her smiling.

"Hi! It's lovely to see you, what are you doing here?" Asked the one who touched her, embracing her − her eyes lit up in joy at the sight of them and she quickly greeted them, licking her lips, glancing at him uncertainly.

She didn't know what to say.

"We went out for a beer together." She said shyly.

He turned his head away, impatient, hating being the centre of attention, angry that whoever this guy was was touching her as if he had known her for years.

"Aemond, these are my friends from the year, Paul, Mark and Rose." She introduced each of them after a moment.

He looked at them warily and nodded, unsure how to behave, annoyed that they couldn't just have a peace and quiet.

"Would you two sit down with us? We could join tables." Said the other boy, who he had just found out was called Paul − he felt himself starting to boil inside, he had a feeling that frustration was clearly visible on his face.

"No, thanks, we've made an appointment for two." She replied quickly, clearly feeling uncomfortable herself, Paul laughed and raised an eyebrow.

"A date?" He asked amused.

He put down his glass loudly and turned to him standing up from his seat, towering over him, the boy swallowed loudly, looking at him startled.

"Yes, it's a fucking date, do you have any more questions? Anything else you want to know, to describe to you in detail the plan for our evening, or did you get enough information? Hm?" He growled with a hint of menace, stepping towards him, forcing him to step back − he felt the grip of her hand on his arm holding him down.

"Aemond, please, he didn't mean it, it was just a joke." She mumbled pleadingly, clearly terrified, grabbing his hand.

"Sorry, mate, I didn't mean to piss you off. It was stupid, my tongue's too long sometimes. Okay?" He asked embarrassed and frightened by how decisive his response was, reaching out his hand to him.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was looking at him hopefully, with a plea that he behave as he should.

He struggled to swallow his pride and rage and grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly and warningly, looking him straight in the eye.

When he let him go the boy swallowed loudly, he and the other two moved towards the empty table wishing them a good evening.

They sat back down at the bar − he glanced at her seeing that she was pale, her hands trembling as she reached for her glass and took a sip of her drink.

"− I-I'm sorry about them − they're very nice, really −" She mumbled, and he swallowed quietly, fiddling with his glass, embarrassed by his sudden outburst, by the fact that he was acting like a jealous, insecure child.

He grunted without looking at her, rubbing the tip of his nose with the top of his hand.

"− I'm sorry too − for my outburst − I didn't mean to be unpleasant, I just − I just haven't seen you in a long time and I want to spend this time with you alone −" He choked out, licking his lower lip, feeling a squeeze in his stomach at the thought that she might think he was being aggressive and insane.

"I know. I want it too." She said softly and only then did he dare to look at her, her eyes expressing understanding and peace − he shuddered when she put her hand on his, leaning in, placing a soft, tender kiss on her soft skin.

As they were about to leave he hesitated and headed towards the table where her friends were sitting. He grunted quietly − Paul paused in mid-word and looked at him with concern.

"Sorry. My reaction was exaggerated. I didn't mean to be unpleasant." He said lowly, swallowing softly, looking away, feeling strangely exposed, his hands clenched into fists.

Paul twisted in his seat, looking at him surprised, and scratched his cheek.

"Come on, I shouldn't have joked like that. I hope you don't cross us off and maybe we can go out in a bigger group for a beer one day." He suggested. He hummed under his breath, nodded and headed for the exit.

As they left the pub he felt immediately as her warm, small hand grasped his and intertwined their fingers − he looked at her surprised, feeling that his cheeks were hot despite the coolness of the evening.

"− do you feel uncomfortable? −" She asked in a trembling voice, wanting to let him go, seeing his reaction − he quickly grabbed her again, entwining their fingers back together, squeezing her even tighter.

"− no − your hands are cold −" He muttered, not looking at her, just walking ahead, thinking only of how hard his heart was pounding.

He thought he felt like a teenager in high school who was holding the hand of a girl he had a crush on for the first time in his life.

Even though they had already slept together for some reason he now felt ashamed − there was something definitive in this gesture, some confirmation of what they both dared not talk about.

By the time they arrived at his flat it was late and they decided to go to bed. Watching her enter his bedroom in only his Tshirt he felt that he was all hard and swallowed with difficulty, looking away.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to bear it, he'd wanted her since she stepped into his doorway.

He put his arms around her as she snuggled into him, kissing the top of her head tenderly, stroking her smooth hair with his hand.

They lay like this in silence, however, he felt them both squirm, his manhood throbbed in his sweatpants and pressed against her body for a moment. He pulled away from her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

"− I − I think I should sleep in the living room tonight −" He choked out with difficulty, feeling that he was hot, a cold sweat on his back − he had the impression that if he didn't leave the room immediately he would just throw himself at her.

She looked at him with furrowed brows, pain and defiance in her gaze.

"− why? − don't go −" She mumbled and he swallowed hard, looking her straight in the eye.

"− you know why −"

They stared at each other in silence for far too long − he felt them both breathing faster and faster, her puffy lips parted as his hands clamped tighter on her body.

He didn't know when her lips were on his, their fingers clenched painfully hard on their shirts − he pulled her to him and she moaned loudly into his throat feeling how hard he was, rocking her hips against him. They both began to pant into each other's mouths and with a quick, impatient movement he forced her to pull his shirt off her body.

"− fuck −" He growled looking at her bare flesh, her girlish curves, her soft breasts.

He didn't stop her when she reached for his T-shirt, looking at him pleadingly − he pulled it quickly over his head, throwing it to the floor, untying his sweatpants, looking at her with his mouth wide open, breathing fast.

"− will you let me ride you? −" She mumbled, trembling all over, her cheeks rosy with emotion.

He swallowed loudly and thought he would agree to anything to feel and cum inside her, desperate with desire, feeling like his cock was about to explode.

"− I − fuck, just come here −" He breathed out, laying on his back, gripping her upper arm and pulling her to himself. They looked at each other dreamily, panting loudly as she sat on top of him.

He tilted his head back and groaned low with pleasure as she guided the fat head of cock to her puffy slit, sliding it into her hot, fleshy core, not waiting a moment, resting her hands on his chest, her tight walls sucking on him greedily.

"− oh God − yes −" She mewled raising and sinking onto him with quick, sure slaps from which he ran out of breath.

He tightened his fingers on her waist, rooting into her with brutal, quick thrusts of his hips from which they both started to moan, her insides wonderfully tight and hot, all wet, allowing him to slide in and out of her with ease, making sure that with each of his thrusts his swollen manhood rubbed her where she needed it.

"− fuck − fuck − don't fucking stop −" He exhaled with difficulty, feeling that he had never wanted to come so badly in any woman before, slamming into her with quiet click of her moisture, his cock all slick from it, opening her wide again and again.

There was something final and raw about it, just pure desire.

"− Aemond − p-please −" She babbled, rubbing her upper wall with it's tip, each time she sank down on him giving his root a wonderful squeeze − his cock twitched and pulsed inside her every time she did this, in no other position had any woman teased him so wonderfully.

"− o-oh fuck − keep going − harder, right here, fuck, yes −" He gasped in pleasure, tilting his head back, feeling her speed up her pace − he clenched his fingers on the soft skin of her plump buttocks, forcing her to let him deep inside her, responding to her every motion with a thrust, panting loudly in desperate need of it.

He looked at her beautiful body glistening with sweat, her breasts bouncing softly with each of his stabs − he felt that he was a few pushes away from orgasm, her walls squeezing him like crazy, wanting to keep him inside her.

"− I-I − I'm gonna cum −" He choked out with difficulty, embarrassmed that his fulfillment was approaching so terrifyingly quickly, his cock twitched and throbbed heavily inside her as he rocked his hips, chasing his peak.

He gasped when her soft hand ran over his hot, sweaty cheek, their bare bodies slapping hard against each other again, again and again.

"− me too − oh God, Aemond, yes −" She mewled, tilting her head back with her eyes closed, moaning sweetly with pleasure, her plushy walls began to squeeze him, greedily sucking him inside.

He shuddered as he felt her insides clench on him in orgasm and just let go, filling her with his semen, clasping his hands tightly on her hips, rooting his seed deep inside her, gasping heavily with pleasure.

"− fuck-fuck-fuckkkk −" He mumbled, rocking his hips for a moment longer, feeling her hot body fall on top of him, her hot breath surrounding his face, her naked breasts pressed against his chest.

He slipped his hand quickly into her hair, the other stroking her back, panting loudly along with her, unsure if he had ever before in his life come as hard as he did now, when he was driven simply by pure, unbounded desire.

"− I'm sorry −" She whispered quietly, and he shook his head, not even having the strength to open his eyes.

"− no, baby − that was amazing −" He muttered, pressing his cheek against her head, focusing on how wonderful it was to be inside her, to feel her warm body with all of him, his half-soft manhood still twitching inside her. He hummed with contentment when he felt her moist lips brush his neck.

"Looks like we didn't last too long with our decision." She whispered with amusement and he snorted involuntarily, trailing his fingers down her bare back.

"Mmm."

They lay in silence, listening to the night sounds of the city outside the window and the quiet ticking of the clock, feeling at last relieved and at peace.

Something between them was different from their first night, the sex was different too, more open, wild, tender.

He realised that for the first time he had let go of control, allowed someone else to take the initiative.

Still, he didn't feel dominated or threatened − what she did was merely a manifestation of her desire, of how much she wanted him, letting him admire her, simply taking pleasure from her body.

He ran his fingers through her soft hair and hummed under his breath.

"We can do it again one day if you want. I enjoyed it." He murmured, placing a lazy, warm kiss on her forehead. She lifted her head and looked up at him, the tips of their noses almost touching.

"If you'd like to repeat what we did back then…you know, when I first came to you…then I think we could try it too. Once in a while." She said embarrassed, and he involuntarily licked his lower lip, unable to hide the dangerous gleam that appeared in his eye.

"− deal −"

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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skelliko · 6 months

Note

Hoiii if possible can yu write a pt 2 to the confession fic with chifuyu, kazutoro and baji? Like just a scenario or small points as to what happened after they confessed and y/n says yes. it's fine if yu don't want to btww! Luv yur writing, hope yu have a nice day 💗💗

yes certainly sorry for the wait! and thank youu, your so sweet <3

I may have done more than 'small' I hope that's okay, I had no idea on how to format it I just went in with whatever and hope it works fine

★- Tokyo revengers

☆- you saying yes to their confession

pt1 here

featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, Baji

°- Kazutora hanemiya

he'd stay silent for a brief moment but a smile would curl up on his face. he wants to say something, anything that would help his brain function but hearing your voice say the words he's wished you to say for a long while has made him awe struck.

once he finally got his senses straight he took a small step closer to you, "wait say that again" he didn't demand it but rather in a really hopeful and proud tone, like a happy boy finding a new favourite song

his previous thought of wanting to hug you has increased but he was still a little nervous on the inside so he held back a little bit. unsure on if you want you want to get physical yet with an innocent hug.

though he extended his arms outwards a little as an invitation for you to hug him, all while he held a slight nervous yet joyed smile. his hug was warm, probably from growing extremely hot at just the thought and middle of the confession.

kazutora nervousness grew a little when you hugged him and took a sharp, subtle breath in and panicked a little on where to place his arm, he's hugged you before but not in a situation like this.

but once his mind got shaken he man'ed up and make a move, his grasp would be gentle yet firm around you, one arm around the waist and the other behind your shoulders. his nervousness would calm down a little and he very clearly never wanted to let go of you.

but of course in a good moment like that kazutora's brain loves to just mess it up for him, 'what if it wont work out well?' 'what if something happens and our friendship will fall apart?' all this overthinking that he never spoke up about.

but the longer he was in your grasp the calmer he felt, he won't pass out an opportunity like this especially after he confessed, he's just a little worried for the future, like a few weeks or months later.

you're basically a cure for him, despite overthinking his mind has already made so many ideas and what you both could do now, more hugs is one of them.

his heavy heart would feel a lot more relaxed and lighter in the end. you are his, and he is yous.

°- chifuyu matsuno

if his face wasn't red before then it sure is now, his eyes wide and his cheeks slightly flushed. this boy is overjoyed but would try to control himself around you in case you'd think his reaction would be 'weird'

"wait really!?" he'd be so happy and hold such an adorable smile but he still would want confirmation so that you're not lying to him, he knows you're not that type of person to lie like that but his overthinking always got the best of him.

he hardly had any idea on what to do in the moment, a lot of the time in his romance manga someone gets flustered and they end up kissing or something but is that really how it is in real life? no, very rarely and it shows.

but you like him back as much as he likes you, his efforts and backed out attempts all paid off and his whole body grew warm.

one question circled his mind 'why didn't I do this earlier?' he knew he wussed out plenty of times before but with it going so smoothly currently it almost seems as if he was worried over nothing, he couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"to tell the truth I've been nervous about this whole thing for a while"

that 'while' was actually a long time, 6 months to be exact,

after he dropped you off at your home with both shy and confident words, on chifuyu's way home he had the biggest smile on his face, his cheeks raised up and ever so slightly pink and his eyes shining, he couldn't contain it. he's already planning out the dates.

°- Baji Keisuke

he would hold an amazing smile without wanting to hold back, he'd be so happy about your answer that he took a step towards you to hug you but quickly realised and stopped himself due to him not wanting to invade your personal space immediately, though he didn't want to take that step back in case it'd make it a little awkward.

but he'd speak up all in hopes of you ignoring the little step

"you really mean it?"

he meant his question too, he also meant his confession, as much as he wishes to go back to change it up he couldn't avoid the fact that even with his corny ass confession you still like him back, you decreased his nervousness and brought it down to peace.

it wouldn't be until he heard your part of your own feelings that he gave in and softly pulled you in for a hug, his arms over and behind your shoulders. for once baji is scared to say a few words, what does he do? does he start a conversation?

his lips would part to say something but no words came out, he'd only look at you as you manage to snuzzle yourself in his embrace and his whole heart would do a flip.

despite him playing out this whole scenario he never finished it to figure out what to do after your words, like an unfinished fanfiction but the idea of it is so clear yet the words are so vague

though that was until he finally spoke up with what was in his mind,

"so... does this mean we're together then?"

deep down he wants to get straight into the couple stuff, you've talked and became close friends in school he doesn't need to do all that nonsense dating, sure you can go on dates even while being a couple but with you he wants to push the barrier a little.

he probably should have thought of something better to ask or say but his mind was blank, empty. and he blames that on you, but in a sweet kind of way.

♡---

#fanfiction #fanfic #kazutora #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora x reader #matsuno chifuyu #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu #baji keisuke #baji x reader #baji #tokyo revengers

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emmyrosee · 11 months

Note

are u down 4 sum lil angst?? well, i'm just curious how would it be being the famous star volleyball player, Sakusa Kiyoomi's TOTGA?

YOU HAD N O RIGHT MATE

ok so fun emmy history, back when I was a wee child and before the miya twins were even a thing, i wrote a self insert that I’m still weirdly proud of today so congratulations, you scratched that memory HHEISBSOSN-

Hey! Future Emmy here. so... major tw; kiyoomi is very mean, extremely toxic, and i for sure went overboard, but there's a lot of blaming and yelling and just. ugh. this piece hurt my own heart smh.

But listen. You slipped into Sakusa Kiyoomi’s life surprisingly. He wasn’t expecting you or even just to date at all, you were just at the right places in the right times where he finally felt at ease in your presence. You just understood who he was beyond surface level, and he’d never had that in someone before.

You loved him before he was cool, before he was anyone other than a top ace in Japan. You were the first to tell him it was okay to mess up, do something other than eat drink and sleep volleyball, even if he wants it to take up most of his time.

Time, he no longer has, when he gets injured.

It wasn't like it was an inopportune time- though, as a college athlete, there really is no good time to get injured- if anything, it was spontaneous and had he not had dreams of making it big, he'd never think twice of it.

But he gets injured. Junior year of college, just as his name starts to grow in the industry, and he gets injured. Bad ankle, it’s actually a former injury from his childhood that apparently didn’t heal right.

There’s articles that spread about Bokuto Koutarou, how he’s climbing the ranks and how Miya Atsumu, the same little rat who bothered him in high school received an offer from god knows what team, and he’s fuming.

That should be him and his setter getting those offers and climbing that ladder, it’s been him and him alone for years, and he knows it's bitter to hate people for their successes, but its not fucking fair, he deserves more than this.

He deserves more than doctors trying to encourage surgery to heal at the sacrifice of volleyball, he deserves more than flowers and cards of best wishes, more than Miya Atsumu texting him to see if he's okay, he deserves more than any being on earth could give him.

And that includes you.

"Baby, did you finally call the surgeon?" You ask, coming in with a water bottle and a cup of his meds.

Apparently, that's more than enough to set him off.

"I don't need surgery."

He hears you sigh, "the doctor says the tear is too big just for physical therapy, you'll need the extra support-"

"In case you forgot, I was fucking there."

His breath becomes hot, and he can't peel his eyes from the commercials playing on the tv. The room suddenly feels suffocating, and of he could will himself to do it, he'd apologize and tell you he loves you, he's just tense and hurt, and he's grateful you're here, and-

"I'm the one who's life is going down the tubes. Fun fact."

The other thoughts in his mind are static. merely an incoherent buzz. You're his victim now, to his ugliest sides that therapy and his family prodded back years ago.

There's no one to prod it back now.

"I... I didn't mean any harm, I promise-"

"You really shouldn't talk to me right now," he snarls, rage bubbling and clawing away at his soul. There's a bubbling of tears that rip at his waterline in a demand to fall, but he's blinded to anything else.

He hates his life. He hates his ankle. He hates his doctors for telling him it may not heal right ever.

He hates you.

"Kiyoomi, please-"

He bears his teeth like a dog in an attack, and you flinch back slightly. "If you hadn't fucking distracted me, this never would've happened." He hears you whine in your throat.

he ignores it.

"I was fine," he barks. "I was happy before you. I was strong, I was powerful, I was a damned force to be reckoned with." He crawls closer to you on the couch, and when you cower to try and get away, he chases your body with his torso.

When you stand up, he does too. His leg lights every single nerve up in a blaze of agony, but he's too gone in his own rage to think about it.

"I... I know you're mad, but please, sit down Kiyoomi-"

You're right.

"Shut the hell up!"

Even on one foot, he towers over you threateningly. You bring your hands up to try and force distance between you both; your touch does ground him slightly, but not enough to stop his scorn.

You sniffle softly, clearly uncomfortable, "you're just mad... and that's okay. Please stop shouting at me, we can make this work, kiyoomi."

Now, his eyes are scalding with furious tears.

"I want this to work, oomi... please, stop shouting-"

“It doesn’t matter if you want it to work,” he snaps. “I’ve got a plan to stick to that’s already been screwed because of us, AND IT'S YOUR GODDAMNED FAULT!"

When you sob and crumple to your feet, there’s a small part of kiyoomi that comes to, the words suddenly sour on his tongue. He feels… confused, he doesn’t know where it came from inside of him, but the way your eyes water from his words snaps him back to reality.

“I’m… im ruining your plan?” You choke, and god kiyoomi wants the floor to engulf him whole. Because duh, of course now you’re not he’s just the scum of the earth, you’re all he can think of wanting in this shitty life, but he can’t say that, not when your hands cover your mouth in distress and horror, tears slipping over your fingers. He feels the blood leave his face when you take a step back, followed by another, then one as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait-“

“No, Kiyoomi,” you snap, and its his turn to feel your rage, your head whipping to look at him in betrayal. “No. I’m officially done waiting for you.”

And despite the fact that he wants to chase you, wants to gather you in his arms and pin you to the wall and demand you listen to him, listen to why his plan has changed and how you’ve completely ruined all of it in the best ways, he can’t. His leg throbs at the mere idea.

He just. Stands there, frozen for god knows how long, staring at the long slammed door, wondering if you’d come back for something you’d forgot in your exit. Something dumb, like a charger or a water bottle, something easily replaceable but you wanted from him just as a last chance makeup.

But you don’t. And once his good leg starts to cramp from standing there, he slowly moves his way to his bedroom.

And he’s fine. Honest!

Sitting by himself in the cold of night gives him more time to think about the future. The one without you, of course. Limping around the dorm on crutches makes his arms ache and knees weak, and the backpack on his shoulders making him fall forwards is plenty to make his elbows strengthen up (they’re withering away) and his breathing circulate (he’s breathing back tears of pain and frustration.)

He can’t… he can’t do this without you.

Call him selfish, but his life was not only easier with you around, it was better, it was fun to love you and have you scream his name from the stands, but now that seat is occupied by someone else when it should be yours and yours alone.

He’s tried to get over it. He’s tried to get everything in line, get you the hell out of his mind but he can’t.

You’re different. He hates you for it. There’s something about you that refused to leave his mind and soul. Every time someone is interested in him, he feels disgusted because every crush is based on appearances now; it never was with you. Every time someone laughs, his first thought is how much he misses yours. When one of those stupid fast food commercials comes on in the late hours of night, he smiles sadly as he remembers the way your eyes would meet his and you’d beg him for some fries at ungodly hours.

He has to move on. It’s been fucking years. Why hasn’t he moved on?

Any sane person by now would have moved on, passed through his heartbreak and try to find another, but he’s so emotionally unavailable at this point. Every thought and every reminder that plagues him continues to hit like a ton of bricks every time.

Maybe it's guilt.

No, its definitely guilt.

He loved you, more than you could imagine, he appreciated you more than he can express, and to show you how much you mean to him, he blamed you for his failures.

No wonder he deserves to be alone.

And just when his exhaustion can't grow, his self destruction and crumbling self worth can't get lower, he gets thrown in another circle of hell that he seems to find himself in; this time, in a coffee shop he frequents. Not too many familiar faces, just a couple blocks from the train, and up until that point, only having known him as an alias.

Until today, when the Gods decide to torture him a bit more.

“Name?”

“Sakusa,” he says, not even thinking as he scrolls on his phone. There’s a high pitched gasp from the girl, and it makes his eye twitch.

“NO WAY!!! Oh my gosh, you’re THE sakusa kiyoomi?! Oh my gosh, wait, hold on- can I get a picture? No, wait, you’re not into those- can I get an autograph? I knew you looked familiar, my sister and I watch you play all the time! I’m such a fan!-“

“Uh… thanks. Can I have my tea-“

The girl doesn’t answer, instead, she calls for her co-worker who barrels out in equal excitement.

On any normal day, kiyoomi would snap. He’d scold and snarl about how rude they were, how he’s still a fucking person who just so happens to be good at volleyball, but he’s like a deer in headlights. He’s too surprised at his own stupidity of not using his usual alias, how damn tired is he?

There’s a weight that feels like a ton of bricks that settles on his chest once he hears the line behind him complaining about how long it’s taking, then people behind the register flashing pictures that have him blinded and asking him questions he doesn’t want to answer, he just wants his tea for God’s sake and-

“HEY!” There’s a snap from someone at a table, and it breaks up the small, impromptu paparazzi at the front. “People are trying to work here, and not get a damn seizure from your damn pictures!” He feels all that anxiety break on his shoulders once they cower away. “And shame on you all!” They continue, the line slowly parting to let them continue shouting. “He may be famous but he’s still a damn person! Make the fucking drink and GO!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t want to look. Even if he’s eternally grateful for them, he knows that scold and he knows that bravery to call out random people for their shiftiness.

Because it’s the same thing you used to do all those years ago.

He winced and pulls the mask higher on his nose to keep himself concealed- as if he’s not a 190.5 cm monster. But you don’t say anything about anything that just happened, you must be deep in your work to not process just exactly who you were defending.

He gets his tea with a quick apology from the baristas, and he heads to the door to leave.

….

…right?

He’s gone. He’s on the bus, headphones in and heading to practice, audiobook putting him in a new world where his only current connection is the hot tea in his hands.

Right?

There’s always been a table on the bus, a table he rudely stalks up to, where you’re sitting and typing away furiously at your laptop and massaging one of your temples, too engrossed in your work to notice the outside hitter standing just in front of you.

“Uh…” he chews his lip nervously. You don’t look up.

This is the chance Komori’s been talking about. If he doesn’t take it, he’s going to hate himself forever.

“Thank you for standing up for me back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

He sighs staggered, “can I… uhm… repay the favor?”

To his extreme relief, you offer him a small chuckle, “maybe you can recommend a coffee shop where random cele…” your voice drifts off when you look up at him, jaw frozen open and eyes wide and dancing all over his face. You’re both just staring at each other, breathing ragged and tense, and his brows furrowing to try and hide the guilt and absolute need he has for you to continue the conversation.

You clear your throat, “your uhm… your foot healed uh… well.”

He wants to, but can’t, fight the snort that sneaks past his lips because that’s about the last thing he thought you’d say. But he sees you crack a smile too, and it’s worth it.

“Yeah,” he says after he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m playing professionally now. Minor aches here and there, but nothing unusual.”

“So you got to stick with your plan,” you hum sadly, and his heart stops. “That’s wonderful, Sakusa. Im glad to hear it-“

“But my plan never felt complete,” he interrupts, and he sees your nostrils flare in annoyance. “I-I-I thought I knew what I wanted, but god, I didn’t. I don’t, I’ve always only wanted you.”

You offer him a shrug, “Kiyoomi, I was an intruder in your life; I can’t blame you for that, I shouldn’t have been there-“

“I wanted you there.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” you snip, and finally, he sighs in defeat. “You made it just fine without me in your plan.”

Fuck it.

If he’s here, he’s gonna lay all his cards, give you every last thought of his and leave you one more time to pick up your shattered pieces.

“I miss you.”

You freeze, but there’s a glazing of your waterline before you slowly, tensely, turn up to look at him.

“Don’t,” you snap. “Don’t do this, Sakusa.”

“I can’t help it,” he says, own voice twinging raw. "I hate it too. I hate that I've had to carry this weight with me for all these years, years I should've been with you, kept you safe and happy, and I couldn't even do that."

"You shattered what we had. Don't ever forget that."

"I never have been able to."

There's another silence surrounding you both, suffocating and hot and thick, and he gets flashbacks of a scenario not too dissimilar, where you're looking up at him with those same, betrayed eyes.

But your gaze doesn't last. It crumbles before you let out the breath you'd been holding, a sign that you're not going to waste your energy on him anymore, "you're too late, Kiyoomi. You don't get to miss me anymore."

When your hands shift to close your laptop, he sees it. The massive, heavy rock on your finger, glimmering under the soft lights of the coffee shop.

Kiyoomi feels sick. He could faint right now if his pride would let him. Instead, he swallows the bile in his throat and grits his teeth, giving you a smile and a casual scratch of the back of his head, "that's... that's awesome! I'm happy for you."

"Don't be," you smile sadly.

"Why?"

You shurg, "you don’t have to be happy for me. I’m happy for me. He's a friend of Bokuto-San's. Set us up not long after we broke up." Then, you sigh shakily, "I'm just here for work, I won't taint your coffee shops for much longer." It was an attempt to break up the heavy silence.

He could puke right now if he didn't feel completely defeated. He could strangle Bokuto in devastation.

In his younger, naïve efforts to drive you away, he drove you straight to someone else's arms.

He nods and chokes out a small "alright," before spinning on his heel away from you

He makes move to leave the coffee shop, but before he does, but before he can, he turns back to face you, trying to get one final look at you, soaking in your presence and soul before you vanish from his life forever. He calls your name, and you look at him one more time with that big, beautiful gaze.

"Do you believe in the one that got away?" he asks, and you process his answer before slipping your computer in your bag.

"Yeah. And I believe I'm yours- but you were too worried about losing volleyball. Now, I guess we all got what we wanted."

His veins turn icy as he tries to blink back the hot tears searing his waterline, turning his head to dodge your knowing eyes.

Everyone got what they wanted.

Except for his broken heart, of course.

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