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#but at one point things have to get better….. right?
arieslost · 2 days
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getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙
this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3
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kiss me | ln4
you’re sure you’re seeing things.
you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.
a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.
“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.
the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.
“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.
“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”
he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.
“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.
you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”
“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.
“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”
“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”
“so you just buy me a car?!”
he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”
“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.
“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.
“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.
“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”
“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.
“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”
you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”
“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.
“go away. i’m mad at you.”
“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.
you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.
“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.
“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.
“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.
“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.
“no thanks.”
“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.
you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.
“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.
“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.
“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”
“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.
“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?
he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”
you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.
“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”
“what do you love more, me or the car?”
“the car, obviously.”
he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.
“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.
damn him.
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word count: 860
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note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
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beatrice-otter · 3 days
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I’ll be honest, when one party’s aiding and abetting the genocide and the other’s outright gonna kill all my friends, I don’t really care if the fascists “win”. They’ve won already.
You know who would be delighted to hear that? Trump and Putin. The US far right and the Russian government have poured lots of time, effort, and money over the last decade+ into convincing US leftists and liberals that things are hopeless, there's no point in even trying to make things better, and the Democrats and Republicans are functionally interchangeable. They do this because one of the easiest ways for them to win is if the left gives up and stops trying. Every person on the left they can convince to give up in despair brings them closer to complete control. Defeatism on the left actively supports victory on the right.
I think your statement is wrong on a number of levels, both factual and emotional. It comes from not understanding what the actual options are for the US government and the President specifically, either at home or abroad. And it will allow actual fascism to flourish and make the world far worse than it is now.
On an emotional level, the way to address this is to stop doomscrolling. Stop focusing on the worst things happening in the world. Don't ignore them! but don't let them consume you. Start looking for the things that are going well. Find places in your community that you can get involved in making things better. Even if it's only on a small scale like volunteering in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, it will help you realize that you aren't helpless, that there are things that can be done to make the world a better place. Stay informed about things on a local, national, and international level, but limit how much time and attention you give to things that depress you that you can't affect. Instead of sitting there thinking about all the ways the world sucks and how awful things are, look for things you can do that are productive, and then do them. You'll feel better and you will have made your corner of the world a little better. And you will be a lot less likely to unintentionally fall into the despair, nihilism, and passivity that the fascists want you to be consumed by.
Always remember that the worlds problems are not resting solely on your shoulders, or solely on America's shoulders, and neither is the hope of fixing them. Everyone has things that we can do to make the world a better place, but there are also things that are beyond our control. We can control what we do; we cannot control what others do. We can and should try to make the world a better place, but focusing on the things we can't change has no positive benefits. Focusing on things we can't change accomplishes two things: it makes you feel bad, and it stops you from doing the things you actually can do to make things better. Neither of these things is good for you or anyone else. Look for things you can do and do them. Keep informed on the things you can't change, but don't focus on them.
On a factual level, let's look at "aiding and abetting genocide," shall we?
First, it's important to remember that the US President is not the God-Emperor Of The World. The US government has limits to what it can and can't do in other countries, and both legally and practically. If the US wants to intervene in a problem in another country, there are a variety of things we can do that boil down to basically four categories. It's a lot more complex than this in practice, of course, but in general here are the categories of things we can do:
Send in the troops. Invade, either by ourselves or as part of a NATO or UN operation. (Or maybe just send in a CIA wetworks team to assassinate the head of state.) I hope you can see the moral problems with this option, and also, we've done this a shitton of times over the course of the 20th Century and pretty much every time we've done it, we've made an already awful situation worse. On a moral level, it's pretty bad, and on a practical level, it's worse. Sure, we could stop the immediate problem, but what then? Consider Afghanistan and Iraq. We got rid of Saddam Hussein and the Taliban, and everything went to shit, we spent twenty years occupying Afghanistan with pretty much nothing to show for it. (The Taliban is back in control of Afghanistan.) Things were worse when we left than when we arrived. So this option is pretty much off the table (or should be).
Diplomatic pressure. Now, the thing is, they're a sovereign nation, they don't have to listen to us if they don't want to. We have a lot of things we can leverage--including financial aid--but the only way to force them to do what we want is to invade and conquer, and that only works temporarily. Since we can't force, we have to persuade. This requires us to maintain our existing relationship with the country in question, and possibly strengthen it, because that relationship is what we're leveraging to try and influence them to do what we want them to do. If we do not maintain our relationship, they have no reason to listen to us.
Cut ties and go home. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things and we wash our hands of the whole situation. This keeps our own hands lily-white and pure, but it also means we have zero leverage to work on any kind of a diplomatic solution. They have no reason to listen to us or care about what we think. We can pat ourselves on the back for doing the right thing, but we destroy our own ability to influence anything. Not just now, but also in the future. Let's say the current crisis ends, and then ten years later there's another crisis. If we want to have any effect then, we would have to start from square one to start building a relationship. Cutting ties would be great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, and there are times when it's the only option, but it should be a last resort. If there is any hope of being able to influence things for the better this will destroy it at least temporarily.
Cut ties and impose sanctions. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things, but also use the might of the American economy to isolate and punish them. We've done this a lot over the 20th Century, too, and it has never actually resulted in the country in question buckling down and toeing the line we want them to. What happens is the sanctioned country has an economic shock (how long it lasts and how bad it gets depends on a lot of factors) and then pulls themselves back together economically, except this time they're more self-sufficient and less reliant on international trade and financial networks. They tell themselves that America is evil and the cause of all their problems, and so not only do they not listen to us, they actively hate us. And they have fewer international relationships, so fewer reasons to care about what the international community thinks about them. So they're most likely to double down on whatever it is they're doing that we don't like. This one is completely counterproductive and utterly stupid. It's great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, but if we actually care about being able to use our influence for good (or, at least, to mitigate evil) this option shoots us in the foot. It encourages other nations to do the very thing we're trying to stop them from doing.
So, with those four options in mind, both option one (invasion/assassination) and option four (sanctions) are off the table for being immoral and counterproductive. That leaves "breaking our relationship and going home" and "using diplomatic pressure" as our only two viable options.
Biden has chosen option two, diplomatic pressure. Yes, he and our government have continued financial support for Israel ... but with strings attached. They have put limits on it that have never been put on any US foreign aid before. They have taken legal steps to lay the groundwork to target Israeli settlers (i.e. Israeli citizens who confiscate Palestinian homes and businesses). We've been hearing reports for months that Benjamin Netanyahu (Israeli Prime Minister, and a far-right-wing demagogue) hates Biden's guts, because Biden is pressuring him to stop the genocide and work towards peace. Biden is maintaining the relationship, and he's using that relationship to try and influence things to curb the violence and pave the way for a just peace settlement of some sort. Biden has also mentioned the possibility of a two state solution where Palestine becomes its own completely separate country. That's huge, because up until this point the US position has always been that Israel is the only possible legitimate nation in that territory. If Biden stopped US support for Israel, it wouldn't force Israel to stop what it's doing ... but it would let them ignore us. It would remove any leverage or influence we might have.
Biden's hands aren't clean. But the only way for them to be clean would be to also give up any chance of influencing the situation or working to protect Palestinians now or in the future. Only time will tell if it works, but I personally would rather have someone who tried and failed than someone who didn't even try. You might disagree about whether this is the right course of action, and there's a lot of room for honest disagreement about the issue (there's a lot of nuances that I'm glossing over or ignoring). But please do acknowledge that Biden isn't supporting Israel because he supports genocide; he's doing it so that he can continue to maintain diplomatic pressure on Israel to stop the violence.
Which brings us back to "aiding and abetting genocide." Trump is not like Biden. Trump is good friends with Netanyahu and backs Israel to the hilt. Trump thinks that all Arabs are terrorists (and all Muslims are terrorists) and genuinely believes the world would be a better place with them dead. Biden is continuing to support Israel, but using that support as influence to get them to stop or slow down. Trump would be using that influence to encourage them.
And those are the two choices. Someone who is trying to curb the genocide, and someone who actively supports it.
I really hope you can see the significant and substantial difference between those two positions.
But let's say that you're right and Biden's policy towards Israel and Palestine is every bit as bad as Trump's would be. If there was nothing to choose between them on foreign policy grounds, there would still be a shitton to choose between them on domestic policy grounds. You admit that the right wants to kill your friends, and yet you don't seem to think that stopping them from killing your friends might be a good thing to do.
"We can't save Palestinians, so we might as well let Republicans destroy the rights, lives, and futures of LGBTQ+ people, women, people of color, people with disabilities, poor people, non-Christians, and anyone else they don't like." "We can't save Palestinians, so why bother to try to save the people we might actually be able to save." "We can't save Palestinians right now, so there's no point in trying to build up a longer-term political bloc that might drag US politics to the left over the long run."
Do you get why there's a problem with that line of thought?
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fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—
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(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)
Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]
[Masterbation, Food Play]
-
"Come on..... Come on....."
Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.
He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.
Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.
The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-
"Mmh....."
What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.
His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.
A milkshake.
Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-
A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.
"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.
Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.
Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.
"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"
-
"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."
Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"
The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"
"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."
Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.
"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"
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erwinsvow · 17 hours
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knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.
it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.
in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.
“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 
“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.
“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?
“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 
when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.
“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”
“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.
“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 
“wh-rafe!” 
but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.
you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.
he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.
“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.
“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 
you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.
when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?
it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.
“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 
“what’s that?”
“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”
“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”
and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 
“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”
it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 
“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.
“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.
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https://www.tumblr.com/goldenboygate/748927575652515840?source=share
How about a blurb of happy tipsy/drunk Lando and reader on the boat and he's extra clingy and saying sweet funny things? Bonus points if she's caring for his bloody nose and he's looking at her with the gloomy sparkly eyes (we have all seen the pictures 👀🫣)
Note: the more content I see from this day, the more I think this is going in the books 😅
Cw: mentions a cut, blood, alcohol consumption
"Fill mine, please!", Lando asked one of the guys as he filled his own cup with some orange drink right on theme for the day.
When you said you'd join the celebrations for King's Day, Lando and Martin were the most excited for it and promised you one hell of a party indeed.
"Show me how you dance with your pretty hips! Baby, are my moves as good as yours?", Lando said as he swayed his hips from side to side, his knees helping him bounce slightly as he waved the cup around. The sunglasses didn't cover his blushed cheeks and big smile, but you were sure they were hiding your favourite pair of eyes, now probably squinty and glassy as he sang loudly.
"Yes, Lan, they're good", you shook your head as you laughed, letting him pull you closer to him so he could dance with you.
"My chest is full of love for you, baby", Lando whispered on your ear before he nipped at the skin there.
"We're out, Lando, there's other people here", you gasped even though you were enjoying his touches a little too much. Drunk Lando often meant an even clingier boyfriend.
"I don't care, I'm full of love for you - I love you!", he stated kissing your lips and everywhere on your face he could.
You turned around for a couple of minutes, approaching the edge so you could get a little bit of air and look at how everyone else was celebrating the day until you heard a gasp followed by Martin calling your name.
"What?", you asked before seeing Lando and his bloody nose, "Oh my word", you whispered as you approached him.
"We clicked the glasses and then this happened", Martin explained as you took a good look at the injury.
Even though it seemed like a little nick on the skin from the glass, it was bleeding a good amount, "Here's the first aid kit", someone said as they handed it to you.
"Does it hurt a lot, love?", you asked Lando as you rummaged through the bag to figure out what you had and what you could do with it.
"It's okay", he mumbled.
"Hold this, Lando, I need to find something to disinfect- we're in a boat full of alcohol drinks but medical grade stuff would be better I guess", you mumbled the last part, trying to read the label of the bottle and smelling them.
Once you look up after finding the rubbing alcohol and some cotton buds and pads, you see the gauze wrapped around his head, "like this, right, lovie?", Lando smiled, a genuine tinge of hope in his voice at helping you help him.
"Not quite", you laughed. You felt bad for doing so while he was clearly hurt despite not hearing many complaints from him.
"Let me put some steri strips - stay still, Lan, I need to see this upclose", you stated after cleaning the cut, applying the strips in a cross since you could see the skin was pulling both ways.
"Did you do it like an X? I felt that", Lando spoke, "X marks the spot for the treasure, doesn't it? I'm your treasure!", he cheered, "Taylor Swift says that it marks the spot where we fell apart, but we never fall apart baby, we're forever".
"You are, Lan, my biggest treasure", you smiled, "can you stay still for a bit longer though, please?", you asked gently still.
Lando complied with your request, staying still as you did your best to make sure the dressing was helping or at least not making the situation worse, "Is this your way of telling me you want me to get a rhinoplasty? Funny, it has rhino in it", he giggled before he attempted to make an elephant noise.
"No, baby, I love your nose just the way it is", you smiled, kissing the tip of his nose when you were happy with the improvised wound dressing, "there, all done! You even get a magic kiss for it to heal faster!".
"You're so pretty, you're really my girlfriend? Ah! Would you look at that, Martin? She's my girlfriend - I'm one lucky dude", Lando beamed at his friend before he kissed your lips, letting you sit on the edge of the boat, "you can sit there, baby, it's got railing to protect you from falling in the water - it's looks mucky", he made a disgusted face.
You sat there, glad to be able to experience these moments with your boyfriend and seeing his so carefree and happy. His PR team would maybe have to do some cleaning up, but at the end of the day, he was a happy young man enjoying his time off and he had the right to enjoy it.
"She is my girlfriend - Look, Y/N! Someone is recording us, say hi, my love!", he yelled, getting you to wave at a girl filming on another boat, "isn't she pretty? And she fixed my nose too!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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crazy4leclerc · 13 hours
Text
imgonnagetyouback — c.l.
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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader
summary: you and charles have been broken up for a couple months now, but things take a turn when he sees you at a race and then with his teammate at the after party.
warnings: angst, jealous!charles, possessiveness?, swearing, alcohol, kissing, making out, charles being needy, and lil bit of sexual scenes
a/n: based off taylor’s new song ofc ;)
it’s been months since i’ve been to a race due to mine and charles’ break up but i was dragged here since my best friend, shelbi, is now currently dating lando norris.
“y/n, can you keep up? i’m dying to get to the mclaren garage to see lando!” shelbi whined to me as i was dragging behind her, arms covering myself in hopes that no one will see me or recognize me.
“i’m sorry shelbs, you know how out of place i feel here since the breakup.” she stops and walks back to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “i understand, im sorry for dragging you here, i just wanted you to meet lando since you never have.” she says with a smile on her face.
i’m happy for her. i really am but i just wasn’t happy being at a race since every little thing reminded me of charles.
as we make our way past all the paddocks i was not pleased to see that mclarens was right next to ferrari.
“oh fuck me.” i grown out and shelbi only giggles, “you’ll be fine!” i roll my eyes at her as she tugs me into the garage. i watch as shelbi runs over to lando with his arms wide open for her. a smile graces my face at their interaction.
“y/n, this is lando. lando this is my best friend, y/n.” she introduces us, “i feel like i’ve seen you before.” he tells me and i want to die on the spot.
“uhm, yeah.. i used to be with charles.” i noticed a frown come across his face, “im sorry about that. if it makes you feel any better, i don’t think he’s doing too well.” he tells me as shelbi has her arm around his waist.
“well that serves him right. i hope he suffers!” she says and me and lando both laugh at her statement. “i can show you around the circuit if you ladies want me to?” he asks and we both oblige.
as we’re walking around the circuit, i can’t help but awe at how cute lando and my best friend are. i sneak some pictures of them as we continue to walk, but only being stopped by fans every now and then.
“y/n? is that you?” i hear a thick accent say behind me. it takes me a bit to register who’s voice it is but as i turn around, the biggest smile spreads across my face.
“carlos!” i say as i jog to him and wrap my arms around him.
“what are you doing here?” he asks as he pulls away and sets his hands on shoulders. “i’m here with my best friend, she’s dating lando.” i say as i point back to where they’re now standing, greeting a fan.
he nods and lets go of me, “i really never thought i’d see you again, at least so soon.” i laugh awkwardly since i already know charles will be a hot topic in our conversation, “yeah, me either. i was forced into coming but i will do anything for my best friend, even if i have to see him again.” he smiles at me and says, “well that is why you’re such an amazing person.”
i blush at his words and thank him. “don’t feel too bad, charles has been having it a bit rough since they breakup.” carlos tells me truthfully. i sigh, “i mean it’s only been a couple of months, i think he would move on by now.” carlos shakes his head no, “you’re crazy if you think anyone would want to move on from you.”
i don’t wanna be crazy but is he flirting?
“is this spaniard harassing you, y/n?” lando says as him and shelbi make their way over to us. i giggle and tell him no.
“she’s an old friend! don’t be like that you asshole.” carlos says as he smacks landos chest. me and shelbi giggle at them. “yes, carlos is right.”
we all stand around chatting to one another since the race didn’t start for a little bit longer, carlos says he has an interview so we bid farewells, “see you around?” he asks and i shake my head, “yes, i’ll see you.” he smiles and surprisingly kisses my cheek goodbye.
“he wants you.” lando says to me as carlos was walking away. i smack my forehead and shake my head, “no, he shouldn’t.” shelbi smirks at me, “he does, i think the flirting was obvious. he was shooting his shot since he knows your now single.”
i groan, “what is up with these god damn ferrari drivers.”
as we make our way back down to the garage, i could almost feel his gaze staring holes into me. i refused to look anywhere near the ferrari garage but of course, carlos had seen me once again.
“y/n! come look at the new livery for the race!” i’m literally going to off myself. shelbi gives me a comforting squeeze on my arm, “you should go. make charles jealous, espically of his own teammate.”
i make my way over to carlos with a smile on my face. “new livery?” i ask and he nods, grabbing my arm to pull me into the garage.
charles doesn’t go unnoticed. i can sense him, almost feel him everyone around me. i’ve yet to take a full look at him, only glancing in my peripheral as carlos shows me his car and what is all new about it.
“i like the designs that are on it.” i tell carlos and he hums as he begins to put on his racing suit.
i feel so awkward since i’ve never been too close with carlos before but i help but hear shelbi’s words ringing in my head.
“can you help me?” carlos asks and i make my way over to him. “zip me?” i can’t help but laugh at the situation, “i think it’s supposed to be the other way around but sure.” i giggle as i began to zip up his suit.
then all of a sudden i was aware of how close i was to carlos. i could feel his breath fanning on my face and i felt like i could barely breathe. not because of our close proximity, but because of charles staring daggers into me. and that’s when i snapped my eyes to meet his.
dark green. staring right back at me. he had this dark look in his eyes that i couldn’t make out. but if this is what jealousy looked like, he sure as hell pulled it off god damn well.
honey, i can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean
i forced myself to look away, gulping, i step back from carlos and give him a smile. “thanks, sweetheart.” he gives me a smirk as he reaches for his balaclava and helmet. “good luck out there, carlos.” i tell him as he puts on the balaclava. “i think i got my good luck charm here with me.”
i swear he’s got to be doing it on purpose.
“i’m not!” he laughs and grabs my arm, “well i guess we have to wait and see.” he says as he leans down once again to kiss my cheek.
in front of charles.
fuck me.
well to say i was a good luck charm is an understatement since carlos did win the race.
i’m currently in the back of landos mclaren as he drives me and shelbi to where the after party will be.
“carlos is about to pounce on you. i can feel it.” shelbi says and i groan, “please. he’s attractive but i think in my books no one can beat my ex.” shelbi rolls her eyes at me, “girl you have got to move on and carlos is right there!”
“yeah but i’m not like that! im not over charles!” i exclaim and that’s when lando butts in, “look i get where you’re coming from, but i think for tonight, just flirt back, make charles crawl in his skin seeing you all up and close with carlos.”
i sigh, “okay. fine. i’m gonna get him back.”
the second i stepped in the door of where the party was it was like my presence summoned carlos.
“there’s my good luck charm!” he exclaims and i blush at his words. he makes his way over to me, hand outstretched and i take it. his warm hand grasps mine as he leads me over to the bar.
“a drink for my good luck charm. because of you, i won the race.” he whispers in my ear and slides a drink over to me.
“thank you.” i tell him and he wraps his arm around my waist. “don’t thank me, i’m going to continue to thank you.” he smiles at me and guides me to sit in the bar stool.
but then again, charles’ presence doesn’t come unknown. i can hear him down at the end laughing at some joke max made.
standing at the bar like something’s funny
after my drink, carlos asks me to dance and i don’t deny. i’m getting revenge.
carlos grabs my waist as i wrap my arms around his shoulders. “did you have fun at the race?” he asks and i nod. “just making sure. i know it was hard going back to one.” well shit. am i that easy to read?
“it wasn’t too bad. you made it worth while.” i smile at him as he squeezes my waist.
carlos spins us around and that’s when i make eye contact with charles again and i don’t hold back the smirk on my face.
whether i’m gonna be your wife or..
he’s sitting at the bar now, hand gripping a glass so hard his veins look like they’re about to pop out.
gonna smash up your bike i haven’t decided yet
“i can’t forget to tell you how beautiful you look tonight.” carlos whispers in my ear, “thank you.” he smiles down at me. “don’t worry about him, yeah?” i nod and wrap my arms tighter around him, soaking in this moment.
but i’m gonna get you back
after dancing, i excuse myself from carlos to go to the restroom. he kisses my cheek as i part ways from him.
once i’m in the bathroom i decided to freshen myself up and just take a breather because what the hell am i doing?
i’m not over charles. i’m not one to make anyone jealous, but here i am.
“making me jealous tonight, are we?” i nearly jump at the sound of his voice.
“what the fuck are you doing in here?” i grip the sink as i see charles standing a few feet away from me.
a smirk spreads across his face, “i think you’re good at playing whatever game you’re trying to play, mon cheri.”
“don’t even think about using that on me. you have some nerve coming in here.” i scoff. “i think you asked for it.” he says as he makes his way over to me.
“fuck you. you’re an asshole.” i roll my eyes at him.
whether i’m gonna curse you out or..
i collect myself, ignoring his presence as i turn away and begin to walk away only for him to grab my wrist and pin me against the door.
“don’t leave. i know you don’t want to.” he almost pleads. and he’s right, i don’t want to.
“i hate the way he’s looking at you. i hate how he gets to touch you. i hate that he’s calling you his good luck charm. i hate that he’s kissing your cheek. i hate that he gets to look at you the way that only i do. i just hate that you’re even near him or in the sight of him.” charles confesses.
i’m godsmacked honestly.
“i- charles there isn’t anything there.” i confess. but he isn’t having it.
“don’t tell me that. i know there is.” he says as he reaches down to grip my waist and i feel my body heat up in flames.
“there’s not! he’s the one who’s been flirting with me all day. i swear. i’ve just been going along with it.” i huff out but it’s not what he wanted to hear.
“go along with it? make me jealous? you knew i’d come crawling back.” i nod. “yeah i was hoping you would.” i say as his grip on my waist tightens even more.
“charles, look i am sorry. but why am i apologizing when you’re the reason we broke up? you were the one that said you didn’t know if you could do it anymore but now here we are.” i say, frustrated.
“i’m so sorry, baby. i never meant it. it was all me, never you. we were perfect together. i was just so caught up in my head, i was struggling but i do so much worse without you. you’re my constant and i don’t see a life without you.” he confessed as he grabs my face in his big hands.
“i still love you charles.” i say and it was like everything fell into place because as soon as those words left my lips, his came crashing down onto mine.
it was so euphoric feeling his lips against mine again. it felt so right. it felt like home.
“god, i’ve missed you so much.” he whines as he breaks the kiss and begins working on my neck. “i’ve missed you more, charlie.” i say as i reach around his neck to grip his hair.
his lips make their way back up to meet mine. i know exactly where this is leading.
“i can’t do this here.” he says and i nod in agreement, “take me back to my place, please.”
take you back to my house 
“of course, love.” he kisses my cheek and forehead. “now only i get to do that.” i giggle at him as we walk out the bathroom together.
i haven’t decided yet
when we get in charles’ ferrari it was just like before. everything felt right and at home. the entire ride back to my house he couldn’t keep his hands off me. when we got into my house, he rushed us inside and slammed the door and pushed me up against it.
“fuck, mon amour.” he groans as i wrap my legs around his waist, grinding over the growing bulge in his pants.
but i’m gonna get you back
to say everyone was baffled about me and charles being back together… they were. but i find it kind of funny since i manifested it on accident.
i did get him back.
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wttcsms · 3 days
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you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody, atsumu miya
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pairing atsumu miya x reader word count 1.4k synopsis love for you is holding him; love for him is allowing himself to be held. content contains hurt/comfort, intimacy, atsumu-centric, insecurities, unconditional love, showering together but make it sfw
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The stinging spray of scalding hot water from the showerhead should be enough to get him to leave, but he barely registers the pain, can’t seem to bring himself to feel the heat, can’t seem to bring himself to feel anything.
No — that’s not entirely true. He feels one thing.
Devastated. 
Everyone knows Atsumu Miya likes to talk shit on and off the court. It’s his thing, his trademark, his brand. Lots of athletes like to talk big about how they’re going to win; who the hell is going to support a guy who walks onto the court with a well, it’ll be alright if I lose. 
He’s staring down at the tiles of the shower, can somewhat register the persistent barrage of water spraying onto his back as he has one hand splayed on the wall, shoulders slumped, water dripping from his hair and running into his vision, making everything blurry. 
Don’t blink, he tries to demand of himself, but the issue is, we can’t always control our bodies. He has to shut his eyes, just for a brief second, and in that second, it all comes back to him.
The opposing team at set point. His team depending on him to serve. One point left. Only one chance. He can feel the stadium’s crowd holding their breath, can feel the lack of air in the atmosphere, can hear how loudly the blood is rushing to his head. Dizzy. Dazed. He doesn’t give into pressure, not anymore, not ever. Doesn’t feel performance anxiety, knows better than to try to attempt something flashy just for the glory of a good story to tell. 
Give ‘em a serve they don’t have a chance of receiving, he demands of himself. 
The final seconds of the match all come to him like stills from a movie, each frame another devastating blow to his ego, his self-worth, his very being. The ball is in the air, he’s bending his knees to prepare for the jump, his hand making contact with the ball. Something’s off, he can feel it upon first contact, but it’s too late to save, too late for him to change anything.
The ball lands.
On his side of the net.
He’s frozen in place as he stares ahead. He can tell the other team is cheering, slapping each other on their backs, and he can hear the blow of a whistle, the celebration from the crowd. But all he sees is the ball. All he sees is his failure.
Atsumu has spent a good portion of his volleyball career knowing that he plays the game better than most. It’s why he feels so comfortable talking about the lack of skills other players display. It’s why he always has something to say at practice, on the court, during a post-game interview. 
And he knows he makes mistakes. He knows that he’s only human. But a bad serve in the middle of a game isn’t as crushing as knowing that he is the sole reason as to why the Black Jackals’ season is going to be ending early. 
Where did he go wrong? He did everything perfectly, did everything the way he usually does. Why couldn’t he perform? Why did he let his team down? Why—
“Atsumu?” 
He doesn’t look up, and all you can see is the sad shape of his outline from the foggy glass door of the shower. You know that Atsumu probably wants nothing more than to be alone right now, but you can’t help but worry when fifteen minutes have gone by, and you could still hear the shower running. That’s your first sign that something is wrong.
Atsumu is a notoriously quick showerer, to an almost concerning degree. When you first started living together, you debated planning elaborate tricks to see whether or not he was even using soap. (Which, in hindsight, was just flatout silly; he walks out the shower smelling overwhelming of his Axe Men’s 3-in-1 and Old Spice deodorant.) 
No — the first sign that something is wrong would be his uncharacteristic silence on the trip back home. He hadn’t responded to your it’s okay, baby, you’ll get ‘em next season. Instead, he just looked out the window, the devastated expression on his face silencing you as well. Even when he lost to Kageyama, he had been disappointed, upset, but still talking big about how he was going to crush the Adlers next time around. He had then made a comment about Tobio’s stupid haircut, and that’s when you told him if he doesn’t have anything nice to say, he shouldn’t say anything at all.
Now, you’d give anything to have him say something. Something for you to work with.  
“Atsumu?” You call out for him again, worried when you don’t see his figure moving. 
Pathetic. Atsumu thinks that’s what he is. A loser, a fucking scrub, a failure. Even if his teammates won’t admit it, the media will. And what then? Will you think that about him too? It’d be the truth, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re in the bathroom now? To pity him? 
He’s too busy tearing himself down to react to the distinct sound of you sliding back the glass door of the shower so you can enter it. There’s a brief burst of the cool air of the bathroom hitting his exposed body, but it evaporates the moment you shut the door. 
“Oh, ‘Tsumu.” You whisper it, and he wants to tell you that he’s not fucking fragile. That he’s not going to shatter into a million pieces if you just raise your voice, if you tell him how you really feel about him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around to face you. He doesn’t want to. He can’t.
His skin is red from the heat of the water, his back staring at you angrily, hurt. The skin’s going to need some time to heal, and you turn the faucet, lowering the temperature of the water. 
“Turn around, honey. Please?” You’ve never seen Atsumu so upset before, so quiet. You wait several minutes for him to actually do as you request, and you think it’s only because he wants a way to get rid of you sooner. 
You don’t say anything to him as you reach for his shampoo, letting it lather in your hands before you give him a pleading look, one that has him leaning down so you can reach his hair. It feels nice, he thinks, the way you’re shampooing his hair. You’re gentle with your movements, and it almost relaxes him. 
You use your body wash on him. Massage the suds into his skin, but you’re mindful of the amount of pressure you apply. You know which areas of his skin is more sensitive from its exposure to the hot water, and you are careful with the spots of his body that he had chosen to be negligent with. 
“Am I so fuckin’ worthless that you have to do somethin’ as simple as bathing me?” He’s not angry at you. He might spit out the words — words that come out sounding all raw and scratchy, like they had to personally claw themselves from his throat — but the anger is not directed at you. It’s at himself. 
“Look at me.” 
His eyes are glossy, wet, shiny, and you know it’s not because of the shower. You’ve never seen Atsumu cry before, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what feels right. You whisper his name softly, tenderly, and it’s this tenderness, your unwavering softness, your unconditional love, that breaks him. That makes him feel safe enough to break. That makes him think of the possibility that you’ll take these jagged pieces of him and piece them back together for him, with him. 
He’s so much bigger than you. You tell him all the time that he’s larger than life, and he thinks about that comment as he lets himself sink into your open arms, as he lets himself be held. He has never felt smaller in his life, and in your embrace, he buries his face into your shoulder, letting his warm tears mix in with the water already on your body.
“I don’t know how you can still look at me.” He mutters, and every word is spoken onto your skin, tiny blades striking you. 
Atsumu isn’t sure what he wants to hear, isn’t even certain that there’s anything that could be said to ease his devastation, but melts into you even more so when you tell him,
“Atsumu, I thought you already knew that nothing can change the way I look at you.”
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siscon-stsg · 2 days
Note
Can we get Toji’s daughter pleasing him after a stressful job 💗
(CW: incest, name-calling (slut, whore, bitch, brat, etc), toji calls reader 'princess' a few times, toji-levels of bad parenting, daddy kink ofc, chokehold, rough sex, cockdrunk reader, titty slapping, teasing, a weird mix of degradation and praise i think, begging, toji cums on reader's chest and face, toji makes one joke about prostituting reader)
i'll let you guys know i am physically unable to thirst for toji because my daddy issues are just like tHAT, but i did my best for y'all guys, if this ain't a proof of how much i love you idk what is. ~BLOSSOM
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TOJI is not an exemplary dad, though that is something you already knew. it was almost fun how little effort he put into hiding it, even laughing sometimes that you'd expect him to be better. him.
“brat, i'm home,” you heard him grumble from the main door before he slammed it shut. you barely acknowledged with a hum from the comfort of your own cramped bedroom, such as was usual between you two; never the type to interact much. TOJI hadn't been home for well over a week, barely letting you know through a phone call that the job he'd taken proved to be more difficult than it seemed.
for a few long minutes, TOJI was but a ghost in the apartment, the one sound indicating he was even there being the water running form inside the bathroom. and as you made your way to the kitchen, looking for something to drink, he coincidentally walked into the adjacent living room, leaving the bathroom in a puff of steam.
water droplets ran, still warm, down the outline of each muscle and vein and scar; stopped only by the towel that hung suspiciously low around his hip. black hair was damp, carrying with it the scent of that cheap shampoo he'd get on a discount pack.
maybe you focused a bit too long on the other hairs tho, the ones trailing down his belly to his crotch. maybe.
“your brother?” TOJI asked, in a tired mumble, as he plopped down on the couch with a sigh; head tilted back, manspreading even when he didn't have boxers on. you averted your eyes from the hot embarrassing sight your father made, taking a sip from your glass of tap water, throat feeling oddly constricted all of a sudden.
“out. didn't say where,” you answered, honestly. you and your younger brother megumi hadn't been in the best terms since he turned into a teen. knowing TOJI would be home any minute, tho, megumi usually disappeared.
the knowledge that you two were home alone didn't sit right in your belly. though at this point, it was hard to discern whether you loathed these moments with TOJI, or looked forward to them.
thing were never very normal between you anyway.
the non-committal, husky hum your dad made only proved he, and you, were on the same wavelength after all. it didn't require much more than a simple “c'mere” from him to feel your legs, though jiggling like jelly, take you across the kitchen to the living room, to couch, and then to him.
TOJI's hands were always so big, rough and heavy, even when he wasn't applying any force. he squeezed them just right on each of your hips, pulling you down until you took your usual place on your daddy's lap.
“'m tired,” he grumbled, hands absent-mindedly rubbing your thighs, following the curve they made up to your ass. he pushed your body closer, digging his fingers just enough on the squishy flesh to make your breath hitch. “and i won't see m'payment 'til a few more days, cuz the shitty client's mad the job took more days than we agreed on. so,”
without warning, one of his hands tangled in the roots of your head, gently tugging until your mouth slanted over his. his kisses were sloppy, filthy, even when they had no tongue.
“y're gonna help daddy out”
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“who y'runnin' away from, lil' girl?”
TOJI's voice was a husky, breathy mess. a deep growl compared to your high-pitched moans and squeaks; and nothing on the filthy, wet slap of his thighs on yours.
he was spooning you from behind on the couch, both fully naked. but when you tried to run away, TOJI snuck an arm under you and curled it around your neck; thick bicep bulging, chin slotted right in the crook of his elbow. the wheezing sound you let out got a chuckle out of him.
“such a bitch, runnin' from my cock. after i work my ass off f'you and your stupid brother”. TOJI spoke right into your ear, relishing each shiver and whimper he got out of you. it was either the bass his voice doing it, or the slap of his balls against your clit, or his toned muscles practically molded against your smaller frame.
“s-... so-...!” your brain was broken beyond the point of coherency, but still you felt like he expected a response. “AH!” only that this particular one earned your tit a slap and a nasty squeeze.
“don' say sorry, you slut, jus' take my fucking cock. yeahhh, like th'tt”. TOJI growled, momentarily slowing down just to bully his thickness slowly, from fat tip to even fatter hilt, inch by punishing inch. his pubes were a sticky mess of your pussy juices that so unapologetically dribbled down the couch. “pussy's so wet 'n tight, might start t' think you were waitin' f'me to do this”.
TOJI slipped out of you with a nasty squelch, manhandling you onto your back and dragging you like a rag doll to kneel between your open thighs. his fat cock rubbed fast and slick against your drooling slit, your chest heaving each time it caught on your pretty clit.
“daddy!”
“yeah, princess?” he hissed, teasing your hole only with the head, then he pulled back and kept rubbing at your sloppy cunny. “what' d's my girl want?”
you could barely even think. when TOJI was inside it felt like you'd never get used to his sheer girth and all, but... now you didn't have him and it just felt like your body was missing something; empty.
whining at this, pathetic and through tears, your hips bucked into his. your daddy answered so nicely by pinching your clit until you cried out.
“use y'r words, slut. or 's your brain fucked out already?”
TOJI hovered over you, trapping your body oh so right under his mass and height. the tenderness in which he sought your lips and tongue only made your fuzzy brain even more dizzy.
“yeah... thatta girl,” he purred when your legs lifted and wrapped around his hips. hissing as his tip caught your hole once again, this time your daddy didn't pull back: instead he grabbed your chin, grazing your bottom lip with his thumb as he said: “now speak”.
“y-your cock, please”. your squeaked plea made him chuckle. “please, need it s'bad!”
“hmm, can' wait?” TOJI murmured; hissing as he slowly, slowly sank back to the hilt. “such a whore for y'r daddy's cock...”
he barely gave you a breath to adjust before resuming his previous pounding. it got you screaming, nails digging into his back and heels into his hips as your daddy battered your cervix to tears.
each thrust made it more and more difficult to breath, you were even surprised the old couch managed to keep up with TOJI FUSHIGURO slamming into your pussy like he hated it. your belly felt more and more tight and stiff, thighs caught in between being tense to break and jittery.
“dad-! daddy!” you wailed between choked gasps. he groaned into your neck, calloused hands bruising your skin from how hard he was gripping onto your hips.
“cum f'me. c'mon, bitch, cum on this cock!”
two or three thrusts more, and your body snapped. all the moans you'd been choking on came out in a pathetic, sobbing, loud whine, body trashing from the sheer strength of your orgasm that made you forget about the neighbors. your eyes rolled back and you floated painfully on cloud nine, for long enough that it made you question if you dreamed the whole thing.
but no, because your pussy squeezed so hard it tore an actual moan out of TOJI and you heard it. he pulled out in a frenzy, kneeling over your chest as his thick fist blurred in vicious strokes and
“shit!” your daddy came. over your chest, some of your face; specially when he nudged your red cheek with the dripping tip, slowing down more and more with each stroke as he throbbed through his orgasm.
TOJI savored it, licking his lips and brushing the hair out of his handsome face: the sight of his pretty daughter with cum, his cum all over her skin, was a sight he'd pay to engrave behind his eyelids.
“fuck... you're good at this,” he panted, grinning down at your fucked out face. “how much would they pay for a pussy like yo-? ow! don't hit me, you fucking brat!”
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suempu · 2 days
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THE EVENING TAX?!?! are you kidding that’s sooooo cuteeee💕 if you have any more Laios as a parter headcanons I’d love to hear them!!!
we first gotta find out “how do i bag this man?” cause he’s HARD to get. this man is oblivious as fuck (when it comes to romance or just interactions in general)
you really gotta put your pants on and tell him straightforwardly.
“laios, i would like to pursue an exclusive, monogamous, ROMANTIC, relationship with you.”
you got him, congrats.
let’s start this with the fact that he’s incredibly loyal. he loves so deeply and he adores with all his heart.
when he loves you, oh he LOVES loves you. laios is a gentle person, but being in a relationship with a person he genuinely cherishes and not some assigned fiancé? this man will give you his all (once he actually knows what to do)
being with him will be bumpy at first. it’s his first time having a partner after all, he doesn’t really know what to do.
in the beginning of your relationship, he might come off as neglectful since he won’t initiate anything with you. this usually results to the party (mainly marcille, with falin helping) lecturing him about romance.
“laios, i’m cold. i heard body temperature can help you keep warm.”
“wait, let me light a fire instead.”
he has no experience at all, so be patient with him. if you express your concerns with him properly, he’ll think of ways to improve and to love you better.
if you crave affection and physical touch, it won’t happen right away. you have to slowly build up your relationship with him.
but, when you’re at that point where you two are comfortable with each other then thats where he really shines as a lover.
he has your traits all observed and noted down. he has a small journal filled with doodles of you, your likes and dislikes. you’re probably the next most interesting thing compared to monsters for him.
laios is very casual and chill. so let’s assume you’ve been together for a while, he will randomly rest his head on your shoulder, or put his hand in yours. thats when you both realize that he actually likes physical touch
he is very caring about your safety whenever you go dungeon crawling, he often places your mats next to each other just to feel closer to you.
while others dislike laios for his density, ehem shuro, you’ve grown to love him for it. he is a very simple man and you can’t fault him for it. plus you think he’s adorable.
once he turns king, he becomes very stressed and busy. one thing he likes to do is to lay his head on you while you read a novel to him out loud. the novel is a monster story of course, he’s still a nerd through and through lmao.
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corrodedcoffins-blog · 23 hours
Text
Caught the L-O-V-E
masterlist
note: writing nonsense outros is the funnest thing ever
warnings: none :)
word count: 980
♡ summary: Quinn only falls more and more in love after going to his girlfriends concert
♡ Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
request ✓
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The team was excited. They had been since Y/n insisted on giving them free tickets, some of the guys even brought their wives or girlfriends that were big fans. They were sat in the VIP tent, a couple fans had come to say ‘hi’ and Quinn got a few friendship bracelets he knew Y/n would love to see on the ride home.
Suddenly the screen behind started a countdown, causing the crowd to scream in excitement. And when the number got to zero out came the woman of the hour came out singing the opening lyrics of the first song. 
“Unexpected, this thing that we fell into
Like, so connected
You came at a time when my heart was selective”
When she came into the light Quinn could finally fully see her, he’d seen the outfit backstage before the show but it looked even better in the spotlight. Her short white skirt complemented her tan skin and puffed out at her hips to accentuate her hips.
This song was written at the start of their relationship, he knew Y/n was nervous about what would happen when they had to be long distance after they made it official, but after hearing her concerns Quinn made it his job to constantly call and make it work. And it did.
When the first song came to an end and when the cheering died down, Y/n started talking to the crowd. Even after performing for so long, and getting to bigger and better stages, talking to fans was still her favourite part of the show.
“Hello, Vancouver! It’s so nice to meet you all! But I just have to point out, during that first song I saw a sign! I think it was over here!” She walked across to the other side out the stage, reading the signs as she meant along, finally stopping when she found it, “Yeah here it is! The sign says ‘I’d never make you get on top’ and that is so kind thank you so much!”
Quinn had always admired Y/n stage presence, the way when she was on stage or in front of a camera all eyes were on her. And of course her ability to be effortlessly funny. He admired her as she continued to talk to fans and about the next song, he knew the setlist like the back of his hand so he didn’t listen too hard to the explanation since he lived it. 
He more so paid attention to the smile that was on her face, she was in her element and he loved seeing her on stage, just like how she loves watching him play. Her hair cascaded down her back, the curls were shiny in the bright lights, her bangs were perfect as always as well as the pieces that framed her face beautifully. 
What eventually broke him from his loving gaze was the crowd yelling the lyrics to a song written about him. 
“He’s good for my heart, but he’s bad for business”
He admired her more, loving the sound of her voice and her subtle dance moves, mostly the sway of her hips. After that song song and many more it was the second to last song of the night. Really Quinn was just thankful that after this son he could go backstage and wait to meet Y/n as soon as she gets off.
“Think I only want one number in my phone!”
He loved watching his girl dance on stage to this song, he loved watching how much fun she had and how much fun the fans had singing along. He looked around at his group and it seemed the Canuck’s girls were having just as much fun. And the Canucks had fun patting Quinn on the back during the song.
“I caught the L-O-V-E
How do you do this to me?” 
That, despite popular belief, was his favourite line of the song. Because it was when she first showed him this song that she said she loved him. Her own, right on brand, silly way of telling him and he loved her for that. She made it even better by looking at him while she sang it, neither told anyone of how they first said it, it was just between them.
“Woke up this morning thought I’d write a-!” “POP HIT”
“How quickly can you take your clothes off!” “POP QUIZ!”
Everyone quieted down when it got to the time of the outro, the most anticipated and shared part of the show.
“He said that I taste like sugar, he’s a little younger, don't call me a cougar, c’mon you know I love you, Vancouver!”
The words about his age caused him to lower his head, while shaking it, laughing under his breath and a rose colour coming to his cheeks. The security came over after the outro to escort him backstage. Which he was happy about since it meant he didn’t have to stick around for any teasing from his teammates.
He got to catch the last few lines of Y/n’s closing number from backstage, they directed him to where she was supposed to leave the stage so he could see her first. Which he did. 
She yelled her goodbyes and sent for her kisses to the crowd as she disappeared backstage and as soon as she saw Quinn she ran to him, he lifted her up so her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were around his neck, he supported her under her thighs.
“You were amazing, baby.” “Thank you. I love you!” “I love you too, so much. I’m so proud of you.” 
She brought her face out of his neck and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips, not caring about  the crew that could see them, she only cared about him. And him about her.
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technically-a-kiwi · 3 days
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And so the cosmic AU story continues, this time focusing on the characters
So like I said on previous post, Peppino and The Noise are one of the many cosmic duos of the cosmic realm and have the immense responsability of watching over several universes, of course thankfully watching over universes isn't a full time job and both have a part time job in the cosmic realm.
Peppino continues his job as a pizzamaker, this time being completly free of debt and only doing it out of passion.
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Technically, cosmic entities don't fuel from food so eating is not nececary .But they don't care, they love Peppino's pizzas and Peppino loves making pizzas so everybody wins
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As for The Noise, he remains being a TV host, exept due to now being a cosmic entity, his chanel is now only broadcasted in the cosmic realm, on top of not being able to broadcast outside the cosmic realm, he isn't allowed to diverge into any other type of media like movies, comic series etc, to make sure his image doesn't slip pass the cosmic realm. And so by being a TV host that exclusively broadcasts in the cosmic realm, The Noise is litteraly the only source of entertainment you could possibly find in the entire realm.
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If you dare say outloud that you dislike his show, The Noise will make sure you'll have an "actual reason" for you to dislike his show, if you know what I mean
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Got nothin much to say now... Hum... Oh ! Yeah ! I haven't quite developed on our cosmic duo nor how they are as a cosmic entity have I ? Well better late then never right x) ?
For starters, Peppino.
As a cosmic entity, Peppino is (surprisingly) quite peaceful and mostly stays in his pizzeria in the cosmic realm, only interacting with his clients and occasionaly with Gustavo.
When first turning into a cosmic entity, it screwed him up quite a lot, not only did he have to process his actual death, he also had to process being in a whole new body with immense powers and brand new responsibilities he never asked for. This gave him a whole existencial crisis making him loose most of his sanity and making him into an even bigger lunatic then usual, thankfully overtime he reached to other cosmic entities who then helped him overcome his dread, slowly getting better control over his stress and bipolarity allowing to partially regain a sense of control and stability (yeah I know it's a little edgy but hey the whole AU itself is far-fetched so who cares at this point). Now he enjoys just taking things slow and appreciate the little things, such as making pizzas for others, taking naps in some deserted pastures and stargazing on top of his roof. He still has a long way to go to fully regain his sanity and stability, but the cosmic court considers his state is good enough to be handled the fate of several universes.
During his shift as a cosmic duo. Peppino is quite efficient, miraculously despite his stress and instability he always gets the job done, he does make mistakes here and there such as not being able to keep a low-profile at all or purposly exposing himself to others which is something cosmic entities must avoid at all cost.
Now bring The Noise
As a cosmic entity, The Noise is a freaking menace, fully embracing his new title of cosmic entity to mess up with people around the multiverse, using his new powers to satisfy his urge of being the ultimate prankster, one might say he his the Loki of the cosmic realm. He mostly gets away with anything he does due to the cosmic court being a huge fan of his show (much to every other cosmic entities displeasure).
When first turning into a cosmic entity, The Noise was confused on why he respawn with such a different look. As soon as he learned he had the powers of a cosmic entity, The Noise started pranking people around the multiverse, he seaked the title of ultimate prankster and for that neaded notoriety, thus The Noise's Nebula Show was born ! As time went on his channel became less of a prank channel and more of an entertaining channel. The Noise started doing other stuff on the side out of curiosity which he found quite pleasant and directly incorporated those things in his channel,slowly becoming more diversed and interesting, using his maniac and cocky nature to become the most charismatic, lively (and only) TV host the cosmic realm has ever seen. Due to The Noise originating from the same universe as cosmic Peppino, they got paired up to become a cosmic duo, much to The Noise's displeasure, it was hard enough to bear the existance of that potato looking head when he was in the same room as him, and now he has to WORK WITH HIM ? He knew such pairing would ultimatly lead to disaster, but he did it anyway, after all he's not gonna say no to having the front sit at seing Peppino's misery and struggles.
During his shift as a cosmic duo. The Noise barely does anything, he usualy stays in the back while smoking a cigar and lets Peppino do the job, he's not going to do any kind of rescuing, that would deteriorate his status of ultimate prankster! In the rare cases where his presence is absolutly needed, he solve the problem in the most ridiculous or incovinente way possible, usualy rushing it, he doesn't really care about others safety, as long as he get's the job done that's all that matters to him.
And here it is y'all ! Truly sorry if my sentences makes no sense whatsoever, I did this post very late at night like an idiot and I'm running out of water and motivation x)
Like the last post if you have any kind of question don't hesitate to ask me I'll be glad to answer all of them.
Now I'll give u some art I didn't know where to put in the post, enjoy
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angelbarelywrites · 3 days
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♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader
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♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)
♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping
♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol
anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.
You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.
You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.
“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”
You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.
You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.
Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.
“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”
He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”
Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.
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pedge-page · 2 days
Text
I'm on a baby Sarah binge with Joel and Preggo Wife.
@millercontracting this ones for you!
- - - -
2 year old Sarah sitting in her car seat watching outside go by in Joel's truck when she spots something in the neighbors flower bed.
"DADDY!"
"Hmm?"
"Keekee!" She shouts excitedly, pointing out the window.
Joel looks around the street but would have no idea what a keekee would look like if it were right in frojt of his face.
"What's that baby?"
"Kee kee! I WAN keekee!"
"I... honey no 'keekee' now okay?" Hes gonna have to ask you what new definition shes concoted today. You're way better at deciphering and translating Sarah's botched verbiage than he is.
But Sarah starts tossing her legs up and down crying "KEEKEE! I WAN KEE KEE!" All the way home.
And even as he wrestles her squirming body out of the car seat and carries her by her ankles into the house, she's still crying KeeKee over and over again.
"WHAT is a KeeKee!" You shout, running over to carefully take Sarah from Joels inhuman manhandling and set her up right on her tiny feet. You wipe away her eyes as fat tears slide down her chubby red cheeks, boogers spilling down her nose.
"I dont know! She saw something and won't shut up!"
"I WAN KEEKEE!" she wails pointing to the door with slunch shoulders. She huffs each breath and cry as if she's hyperventilating.
"Sarah--"
"KEEKEE. MOMMY KEE KEE. KEE KEE. KEEKEEKEEKEEKEE--"
You take her hand and walk with her outside.
"Where are you going??" Joel shouts from the entryway.
"She could have dropped something! She's not gonna calm until we find out what--"
"Kee kee!" She shouts happily, tugging your arm to pull you towards the neighbors house.
Deanna waves over to you and a very excited Sarah. Your neighbor has one hand protectively slung under the chest of Ramsey, her sphinx cat that you and Joel had baby sat 2 summers ago.
"Hey! Ramses slipped out the front door and was prowling around the garden bed."
Sarah giggly laughs and points to Ramses naked little self.
"Good thing you caught him! Do you mind if Sarah pets him?" You ask hesitantly. She seems to be distracted by the cat, now happy and tugging on your arm incessantly.
Deanna sets down on her knee and shows Sarah how to gently pat Ramses with two fingers on the head.
The toddler crouches down in a squat, giggles excitedly and says "Kee Kee!" As Ramses purrs under her belly.
You and Joel look over at one another in realization and say in unison: "Kitty Kitty!"
-
Sarah looks up to you expectedly 10 seconds later. "Momma, kee kee?" She asks sweetly.
You feel your heart swell at such a brilliantly beautiful display of your young daughter taking passion in love and nature and animals, so gentle and kind and soft, full of heart and warmth, deserving that kind of companionship for herself--
"Absolutely not. Don't you dare," Joel snaps at YOU, knowing the face you were about to make as you turned to him to open your mouth and ask if you could get a KeeKee.
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cvntyworld · 3 days
Text
wasteland survival guide ( maximus )
summary: you didn't trust easy, but the unconscious man on your porch was way too pretty to let die, and you were way too curious as to why someone from that cult known as the brotherhood would have collapsed on your door in need of help and expecting you to help was an even more insane point of view.
contents: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, gore, black cat and golden retriever energy, max has a tooth lodged in his shoulder like he does in the show, reader pointed a gun at max, awkward tensions as max doesn't know what tf he's doing, fast burn, kissing, ect...
dedicated to: @fallout-girl219
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You've learned two things about the man who you found collapsed on your front porch, his name is Maximus, Max for short, and he was a part of the brotherhood of steel, a cult, in your honest opinion.
Why you had helped him, you still weren't sure about that just yet, maybe it was the fact he was in the way and you would have to step over him every time you entered your house or exited it. You would have to listen to his cries of complaint, desperate for help as his sleeve became a red stain from the wound in his arm. So you decided to help, for once, you had plenty of stim packs and he would get better in no time with one of them. You had dragged him inside pathetically, nearly tripping on the final step when you finally got him into your house.
He had a tooth lodged in his shoulder, rotten and yellow, you had removed it with tweezers and stuck the needle from the stim pack into the open wound and then after seconds, he had woken up with a jolt whilst you turned your back for a mere second, too busy shoving the box back into your cabinet and locking it.
You had heard the thump and turned sharply, your gun pointed at the man who had fallen off your coach with a painful groan, clutching his arm as he sat up and stared at you with a look of worry when he saw the gun you're pointing right at his head. He held his hands up, as you continued to point your weapon, "If I lower this, you're not gonna try anything stupid, are you?" He shakes his head, staring widely as you lowered the gun and in turn held out your hand for him to take, he was surprised at your strength, managing to get him onto his feet with a single pull of his hand.
He was suddenly in your space and so you step back, a little cautious of his taller frame, he could win a fight if he'd chosen to be hostile, but instead he had held out a hand for you to shake to which you agreed. "Thanks for uhh... not letting me die on your porch." He says with a wave of awkwardness in his tone, "I'm Max, Maximus." You let go of his hand with a shrug, "I'm Y/N." You were quick to reply, and he nodded at you with a smile.
"Well, thank you, Y/N, for your hospitality... You don't get a lot of that these days, especially towards brotherhood of steel members." You shrug at him dismissively, sitting down on your worn out couch, "I'm not the biggest fan, no offence, but, I'm not that cruel, I wouldn't leave your ass to bleed out in my yard." He tried to laugh, but your dislike towards the brotherhood made him frown with a look of disappointment. "I don't mean to pry but why do you dislike them? Surely there's a reason." You shrug out of laziness, and turn to face him, "Well, for one, it is such a cult full of military wannabes who think they're gonna save the world or something like that when what they're actually doing is making shit ten times worse." Max was taken aback by your words, sure there were a few truths to your words but the first point made him forget what else had been said so far.
"The brotherhood isn't a cult."
The two of you grew silent, Max had a frown on his face, offended at your words, and then after fully letting it sink in what he had said, you laughed. Your lungs burned out from the breaths you inhaled, trying to get air as you had continued to laugh at his reaction and his words and the man in front of you went even further to prove how you'd offended him by crossing his arms. "What's so funny?" Is the first thing he asks when you finally calm down and it finally makes you turn to him with a shrug, "Most people who are in a cult usually don't know they're in one." Max's lips part to speak and then he falters, "That's a very good point but the brotherhood still isn't a cult."
"It definitely is." You reply bored, "No, it isn't!" He fires at you with an annoyance. "You know, considering I saved your life, the least you can do is agree with me." You're aware he's becoming a little annoyed by you disagreeing with him and so he stands up, "I'm gonna go now." You nod at him, "That would be great, thank you!"
He hovers in place, "I'm leaving now!" He says but still is unmoving, looking rather unsure when you crossed your arms and raised a brow at him, "The doors right there, I'd see you out but I gotta clean this blood off my couch." At your words, Max frowns and glances at the door, "I'll get going then!" He moves a few steps towards the door and then pauses when you scoff, "You've yet to get out of my house, you lost your sense of direction, pal?"
"Can I kiss you?" He asks randomly, "Excuse me?" You're quick to ask with a raised brow. "Can I kiss you?" He asks again, this time a little more awkwardly. "Thought there's some sort of rule in your cult, no sex before marriage or something like that?" He shakes his head, "We're allowed but the brotherhood doesn't exactly allow girls to join us back at base, it's forbidden." He explains and then stares at you suddenly with wide eyes, "Oh, my god, it is a cult!" He exclaims and you laugh breathily, "Told you so..." Max takes a step closer to you now, toe to toe, as he looks at you softly, "Can I still kiss you, even though I'm in a cult?" He asks unsurely and you answer by pressing your soft lips to his, catching him off guard as he suddenly rocked back onto his heels slightly when you parted your lips, a grin on your features at his flustered face, "That answer your question?"
"Yes, yes it does."
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The AroAce will accept no criticism. In fact, they have decided to rant about it. (found below the cut)
Some things that are Hallmarks of the classic cinematic Batman are:
-constant depression,
-emotional dysregulation,
-extreme ego and narcissism, and
-refusal to have meaningful relationships outside of casual flings.
the Lego Batman Movie, (along with every other Batman movie) highlights these character traits, and makes sure that the audience knows that they are a direct result of witnessing the death of his parents.
However, what separates Lego Batman from the rest is that he is the only one who realizes that all of those things are deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms that hurt those around him! This movie doesn't romanticize these traits like many other Batman movies. They are portrayed as what they are, and we get to witness the consequences!
Batman's giant ego, his belief that he is the best, the smartest, is such an ingrained and predictable trait that it's what allows the Joker's plan to work. Throughout the film, he discounts and demeans those who are close to him, to the point of telling Alfred, the man who took him in and raised him as his own, that he "doesn't know what it's like to have a surrogate son." He literally and metaphorically pushes everyone who cares about him away, despite them pleading for him to let them help.
It takes him being sent to (arguably) an afterlife for him to realize how much he's hurt others. And even then, at first, he denies it. However, once Lego Batman does understand this, he tries to make things right. He convinces Phyllis, (the 2x4 Lego piece responsible for the phantom zone) to let him return to his world. Upon his return he has to give up his whole, "Batman works alone" mentality, in favor of wholly relying on his friends and family. and when he tries to sacrifice himself at the end of the movie, he gives Robin the lesson that he has learned throughout the course of the movie:
"Sometimes losing people is a part of life, but that doesn't mean you stop letting them in."
Lego Batman changes for the better, and that is why he is not recalled back into the phantom zone. If this were any other iteration of Batman, he likely would have been. This is because Lego Batman is the only one who has actually taken steps to heal from his trauma and actively relies on others for emotional support. Another difference, the "others" he relies on are not romantic relationships! When most batman movies show him in a relationship, it seems to be focused on the Token Hot Woman. But in this movie, it is platonic, familial love that causes him to want to make a change. These relationships are just as valid, and, quite frankly, probably more stable for him at this point in his life.
By the end of the movie, Lego Batman still retains many of the iconic Batman traits. He still runs around at night fighting crime in a batsuit. He is still cool as hell (the character states this explicitly). and he still struggles with the trauma of losing his parents. the difference is; he no longer does it on his own.
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mayaree-darling · 1 day
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Only in the Cover of the Night // Sung Jinwoo
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pairing: sung jinwoo x reader
synopsis: your headache is not helping you remember that you have a boyfriend ready to care of you
from aree: guess who caught the dengue virus lmao i have three different sicknesses rn i wish i was joking. this was made for my bestie @fuyuu-chan coz she was dying from a headache but i needed this more apparently
content: pure fluff; no plot just vibes ngl; you have a headache and jinwoo is there to help/bother you
fic length: 1.7k~ (unedited)
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There's a glass of water and some medicine on your bedside table when you reach out your hand for your phone. You're glad you didn't knock anything over - only grazing the glass with your pinkie finger and the aluminum under your palm. It would've been completely fine to have them there - welcomed even - since you did have a bad headache right now, but you shoot up in bed when you realize.
You did not put those there.
You immediately regret the sudden movement when your headache comes back swinging, pounding into your brain like a drum. You eventually fall back into your bed with a hard thump. Even when the lights are off, it feels like the room is spinning. There are stars dancing in your eyes that are just a tad too bright, but definitely more than a tad annoying.
You sit up but slowly this time, gauging whether you need to lie down and sleep the next hour away again. When you don't feel like throwing up, you open your eyes and blink at the corner of your room. You know you're seeing lights right now with the migraine treating you like a punching bag, but…
Are they supposed to be purple?
You don't quite remember if the stars in your vision are supposed to be stationary, either. You move your head this way and that, but the lights stay in one particular corner of your room, staring straight at you. Staring seems to be the right term, the lights making you think of two, purple ey-
No. No, you look away and lean on your side, taking a steady breath in before shakily exhaling.
You are not gonna get killed by some ghost when you're already facing the migraine of the century.
You ignore the lights - you can deal with the ghost when you're all better and ready to throw down with the supernatural, but not now - and turn to where you remember your bedside table was. Where was your phone?
At that moment, you hear the familiar ring of a notification going off. You squint, expecting the unwelcome bright light of your screen, but it's not coming from your table. You freeze.
It's coming from the other side of your bed.
Surely you just rolled over and left it there at some point? Right, yes, of course. You're overthinking things. Your mind is just stuck in a hazy fog made by your sickness. Your paranoia is just stemming from the inability to process common sense. You're starting to think someone is in the room with you just because you-
The bed behind you tips from a foreign weight.
You jump from the bed, but your movements are more than clumsy. You make a hasty turn, trying to face whatever is behind you, but you get caught in your blanket. It envelops the lower half of your body and before you know it you're falling. You try to hold on to the bedside table but your movements are sluggish and you miss it by centimeters. You brace yourself for the impact-
But it never comes.
You feel warm. Arms are circled around you, hands on your upper back and around your waist. A chest is pressed against your own, both heartbeats racing as if trying to catch up to one another. You're overwhelmed by a woody scent (and something… burnt? it's not much but it's there). Although you have an afterthought that it should have made your migraine worse, it ends up comforting you more than anything. So familiar. The figure in front of you leans back, pressing you closer to them as they make sure you're both kneeling safely on the bed.
You're warm. Their warmth is a welcome distraction from the migraine that threatens to make you black out. They loosen their grip ever so softly only when your heartbeat calms down. Almost as if sensing their effect on you, they pull your head to their chest, the hand on your back coming to scratch lightly at your scalp.
There's a new beating in your head, in your ear, but this one is pleasant and makes you feel like you're in a dream you don't want to wake up from. You see a pair of purple eyes in the opposite corner of the room. They blink at you once before becoming one with the dark.
"Did I scare you, sarang?" The voice is muffled. Is it because of your headache again? But you feel it numbly vibrate through your head. You barely feel soft lips against your hair, but it's there, and the knowledge that it's present calms you impossibly more. "Sorry, I should have come through the door."
You reach up and grasp the back of their, his - Jinwoo's - coat. You run your hand up and down his back, trying to bring yourself back to the present with each feel of his coat's texture. Without meaning to though, the action makes him shiver underneath your fingers and you hear him suck in a breath. You feel more awake than you've ever been as you let out a muffled laugh into his sweater.
"You definitely should have come through the door," you mumble, burying yourself further in his chest. He definitely smells burnt. "I thought someone broke in."
"That would be a stupid move on their part. Beru would have slit their throats the moment they touched the door knob," Jinwoo scoffs and you can almost see the smirk on his face.
You groan as Jinwoo shifts in position. He holds you close still, making sure you're nestled in his arms. He leans on the headboard. "It's great you're not a burglar then. I don't feel like cleaning up blood right now."
He hums, tucking your face in his neck and placing his chin over your head. "Bold of you to assume I would've let you clean that. The only thing you would have to worry about is the floor being slightly wet with hydrogen peroxide."
"Can't let them find any evidence." You breathe out a laugh.
"I can even go the extra mile and make sure no one ever looks for him if you want."
"Thanks for the offer. I'll make sure to remember it." you manage another small laugh and Jinwoo offers a small scratch to your scalp in response.
A quiet fills the room and if not for your boyfriend's overwhelmingly comforting presence, you'd think you were still alone with your thoughts and pounding headache. Thanks to him, you were able to forget about the pain for a few minutes. You would've been able to be lulled to sleep again if not for something tickling at your senses, especially now that you're so close.
"What are you doing here? You should've gone home after finishing your dungeons."
"Who said I went to any dungeons today? I could've just been lazing at home for a change and thought about checking on my wonderful significant other," Jinwoo gasps mockingly, and when you look up at him, you find purple glowing eyes looking at you mirthfully.
You laugh blankly. "You talk like I don't know you. I think you'd keel over if you stopped going to dungeons. Also, your clothes are all burnt. I can smell it clearly even with this headache."
"Oh, sorry about that." He holds your shoulders, ready to move you away from him, but he doesn't. He just holds you, not quite sure or willing to push you away. "Should… should I go take a shower first?"
"No, don't go. I was joking," you huddle yourself closer to him. "Do that later. But not right now please."
He lets out a chuckle before relenting and bringing you back in his arms. "Anything I can do to help you feel better?"
"No, no, I'm good I just-" your words are cut short with your stomach rumbling. You don't say anything, and neither does he, but you know he's looking at you like you're a liar. You can feel yourself flush. "Okay, so maybe I'm a little hungry."
"I'll get you something to eat, then. I'll make you something good." he shifts his weight, ready to either get up or sink further into the sheets.
"Don't burn my kitchen again, Sung Jinwoo, or I swear this is the last time I'm letting you into my house." you poke at his side and he winces.
He takes the hand poking him and he pulls it up to his lips, kissing your wrist. You're thankful he can't see your face right now. Or maybe he can? You're not about to test that theory. "Bold of you to think you can keep your boyfriend out."
"Bold of you to think I can't break up with you. If I break up with you then it's considered trespassing whenever you enter my house uninvited, isn't it?" you try to fight back the grin that threatens to push at your lips.
The grin disappears, however, when you're suddenly thrown onto your back. Your fall is cushioned by a soft mattress and even softer arms. Jinwoo's weight is shifted on top of you as he hugs you, head on your chest and body slotted in between your legs. He buries his head in your chest, before reaching up and putting your hand over his hair. When the initial shock has passed, you grin and scratch at his scalp, too.
Jinwoo's voice is muffled. "…Please don't do that."
You laugh, lightly pulling at his hair. "Mhm, yeah, that's what I thought."
Jinwoo lifts his head enough to see your face, purple eyes almost glittering in the dark. "I promise not to burn your well-maintained kitchen with my awful skills."
He reaches over to the bedside table to flick the night light on, but you feel him stop short. His arms return to wrap itself around you once more and he buries his head back into your chest.
"Jinwoo?"
He groans before tightening his hold on you. "Let's stay like this for a while more, is that okay?"
"Yeah. Okay. I'd like that, too."
So you stay in the dark. You think you see purple lights in the corner of your room again. Watching, curious.
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Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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