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softtdaisy · 4 months

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🌲 a found family l max verstappen

summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.

words count. 2,596

a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it.

And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.

He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift.

Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.

“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours.

He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart.

“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?”

“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.”

This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan.

From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.

Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?

“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?”

“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.

Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did.

That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.

And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.

“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.

For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.

But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.

“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.”

“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.

“Yep. You’re happy.”

Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”

It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.

“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.”

Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.

If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile.

“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.

Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment.

At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.

Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.

“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.

“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”

Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.

“A woman is always a burden in a career.”

“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.”

“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.

Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”

He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.

Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.

But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.

“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval.

Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve.

“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.”

Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.

Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.”

The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved.

And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.

When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.

“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.

That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.

So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.

You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.

“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!”

You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him.

But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.

All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member.

It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had.

“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.

You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own.

But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”

You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied.

And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen story #max verstappen fic #max verstappen angst #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #my writing

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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May i request a fic with a plus size reader and beefy beefy ari.

back story :So tr has always been made fun of because of their weight so as tr got older they got self conscious about their body.

One day the reader was sitting on like the couch and ari had dropped his phone under and he need to move the couch to grab it so he didn’t and while he was pushing it tr thought it sounded like he was struggling punching the couch because they were on it. (you can add more to this part or whatever you’d like suga) so as the week go one tr always hurry to like move when are drops stuff under couches or they always refuse ari to push their chair in or stuff like picking them up to grab something off the counter. ari start to realize and confront tr , tr tell ari and maybe add smut or soft smut or cuddling up to you.

( this was kinda just like the spine of the request you can added anything or remove anything. ps ily and you blog 😘🫶🏼)

hey baby, I love you too! I hope you like this. this is my second plus size fic, I hope I did a good job at it, and also, remember you are all beautiful, no matter what size, shape, look, etc.

summary - you become self-conscious after your boyfriend does something, causing him to let you know how much he loves you.

warning - angst, self-doubt, body shaming.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You didn’t know how the day would turn out. When your boyfriend dropped his phone, you had thought he’d ask you to move or get on his hands and knees to try and get it. You weren’t expecting him to lift the whole couch with you still on it, and tears are brought to your eyes as he grunts. You would’ve moved if he had asked. You didn’t want to cause him harm. When Ari gently drops the couch to the ground, he tucks his phone into his pants and smiles at you softly. His hand comes up, and he brushes his hair back, sits next to you and gets a movie ready.

Days went by, and every time Ari would try and move something that you were on top of or push you in. You’d quickly jump up and move out of his way or pull the seat in yourself. You knew you were pushing it when Ari asked you on a date and then asked you to be his girlfriend. Ari was out of your league. You knew it. Everyone knew it. It was only a matter of time before he realised he could get someone better, someone thinner. You didn’t miss how his coworkers hung off of him and how he didn’t push them away, or the women that lived on your street, or any female in the world that you came across. They all looked at you like you were a problem, wondering how someone like him could want someone like you.

You had begun to pull away from Ari, hiding your body more, not wanting to get in his way or become a burden. Now, Ari wasn’t small. He was practically a giant, and he was bigger than you. But still, you were sure he would benefit from having someone better than you, someone who could do the things he does without having to feel self-conscious or hide their body. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Ari starting to put the pieces together and realise something was wrong. He watched you, catching that you had been covering up more, distancing yourself from him.

Ari walks over, clearing his throat. “Baby, why are you avoiding me?” You wouldn’t expect a man his size to have the saddest eyes or the softest expression as he stares down at you. He missed when you’d let him hold you, missed you.

You blink and squirm in your seat. Opening and closing your mouth as you try and come up with an explanation, not expecting Ari to notice, but then again. Ari was very observant and caring, and he wouldn’t let you be upset by yourself. “I, uh… I just don’t want to be a burden… Especially when it comes to you lifting things or pushing things in while I’m on it.” You squeak as Ari tackles you into the couch, gripping your face in his hands.

“Baby, you know I don’t care about your weight, and you aren’t even heavy! I’m guessing you’re referring to the day I lifted the couch to grab my phone?” You nod, trying to avoid his eyes until he squeezes your cheeks. “I didn’t grunt because you were on it. I grunted 'cause I saw up your dress while I was doing it and realised I had to be careful not to drop the damn thing.” You stare at him with wide eyes. “That’s not the only thing, is it? There’s more.”

You whimper, feeling tears form as you shake your head. “I–I… Why are you with me, Ari? Why me and not the women who want you? I’ve seen how you enjoy their attention. Why me?” Ari can feel his heartbreak and tears well in his eyes at your words, wondering what he had done wrong for you to think that.

“Oh, baby.” He buries his face into your neck, holding you close. “You’re so special, so much better than any other woman. I barely pay attention to them, trust me. My mind is always on you. I love you too much to want someone else.” He presses a bruising kiss to your lips, a few tears slipping.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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corvosky · 1 year

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Everyone always talks about your fictional boyfriend comforting you but what if I need to comfort HIM. What if he's the saddest little man in the whole entire world and he needs a hug so so bad

#this is abt #🐀 [crush]#he's basically just an f/o at this point but i feel weird already adding him ghdgehr #sky.txt

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kyriathanatos · 9 months

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I can’t stop thinking of a moment from my disco playthrough. A confirmed bug in the dialogue, and yet it meant so much to me…

that morning I had decided I was going to belt out my soul in karoke that night, and through the events of the day, I ended up having to send Kim away that night with the body from the fridge. So, after he was gone, I dressed like a man possessed by a gay theatre troupe and let out the perfect rendition of the saddest song in the whole world. “The smallest church in saint saëns” And I dedicated it to my partner, “Kim Kitsuragi, who isn’t here right now”

Later on, at the end of the story, as my previous partner grilled me on the case, Kim remarked that I sung very well that night… much to his own dismay

And I can’t stop thinking about that. Maybe he hadn’t left yet. Maybe he was having his nightly smoke by his kineema before he left with the body. Maybe he heard the music kick on as he was leaving, and watched from the door. Or from the window,

But he listened. He heard my song. He decided to stop and hear it. He listened to Harry belt out his soul. And that really sticks with me, bug or not.

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #I kind of want to write a fic about it from Kim’s perspective #making sure he stayed to hear since he’d heard earlier in the morning that I was going to sing #I dunno it’s just a small thing that meant a lot to me

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mag200 · 1 year

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hi my name is jonathan sims head archivist of the magnus institute london and i work with a bunch of people named after horror writers (that's how i got my name). i have long ebony black hair with grey streaks that reaches my mid-back and warm soft tired beautiful brown eyes like a baby cow and a lot of people tell me i look like the saddest most tired poorest little meow meow in the whole world. i'm not related to martin blackwood but i wish i was because he's a major fucking hottie. i'm an avatar of the beholding but my eyes are up here. i'm also an archivist and i work at the magnus institute in england where i am subjected to the horrors (i'm somewhere between 28-30 but i tell everyone i'm at least 36). i'm incomprehensible (in case you couldn't tell) and i wear mostly martin's clothes. i love martin and i steal all my clothes from him. for example today i was wearing a cable knit jumper with a soft crocheted open cardigan over it with yet another looser sweater over that. i also wore a long skirt and some sort of comfy old man loafers. i was walking around london looking for someone's trauma to eat. the sky was raining tears from all of the eyes up there which i was very guilty about. a lot of other fear avatars stared at me. i put up my middle finger at them.

#jonblogging #tma #this is my magnum opus #or yknow. my magnus opus.

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stvolanis · 3 months

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Hearts & Kisses

(I have multiple asks in my inbox for Farleigh x Plus size! Reader, so here y’all go!!)

PAIRINGS: Farleigh Start x Fem! Plus size! Reader

WARNINGS: foul language, body dysmorphia,slight angst, emotional reader, crying, mentions of blood, fluff, Farleigh being a sweetheart, pet names, use of the word “fat”, people are fucking rude

NSFW WARNINGS: sub!reader, soft Dom!Farleigh, praise, body worship but in a cutesy way, slight perv!Farleigh, slight nipple play, emotional sex, groping, making out, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, overall cute sex

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

Your whole life, it feels as though the world was somehow molded to revolve around your weight. It was like the people around you didn’t allow you to have any other kind of personality rather than just being “the fat friend”, to put it bluntly.

Venetia was your best friend, but even she, sometimes, made you upset when it came to that aspect.

Like when she’d complain to you about how she was gaining weight, and needed to start counting her calories again. Or when something wouldn’t fit her the way she wanted it to cause of the faintest chub of her stomach, which honestly suited her petite body.

Having lived in her shadow, it was no surprise that every man you’ve ever liked, ended up liking Venetia instead. It was easier to like Venetia. She was pretty, skinny, outgoing, the whole package deal in the form of a raging she-demon. Any man would be dumb to pass up any offer Venetia laid to them.

She comforted you, of course, and knew of your insecurities and struggles you faced of being bigger than some. She tried her best to make you feel better about it, in her own odd Venetia way, and you loved her dearly for that—but it just wasn’t enough. You longed for men to look at you the way they did her.

You knew you shouldn’t have, but sometimes you wished Venetia was the token “fat friend”. Even if it were just for a day, so she could truly understand what it was like being in your shoes. Maybe then she wouldn’t tell you that you were over exaggerating when you cried over gaining 3 more pounds.

You were tired of the look on old, decaying couples faces when you’d be sitting at a restaurant. The clear look of judgment, disgust and hostility written all over their faces when you’d order food of your choice. You knew what they were thinking without them even having to say it. It made you feel like shit.

You stopped eating in restaurants, and in front of people in general. You order all your clothes online to save the embarrassment of having to feel the disappointment of not being able to fit into something, while prying eyes mock and belittle you till you exit.

You were tired of living the life you lived. Tired of the body you had. Tired of every little imperfection and flaw that you had.

The mirror was your worst enemy, a constant reminder. A vision flashes through the eyes that stare back at you of the life you wanted. Happy. Rich. Popular. Married, with a plethora of beautiful children who you prayed never had to go through your struggles.

You were so focused, so concerned with the hatred you held for the body you were given—that you didn’t even stop to think for even just a moment, that maybe, there was someone out there who adored every part of you.

Farleigh Start, being one of them.

From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he’s loved you ever since.

From afar, he watched you in Venetias shadow—seemingly the only one who’s ever seen you. From tears falling down at the party, being the saddest person in the crowded room; to watching the way you avoided mirrors in the Saltburn mansion like they were the plague. How sad you were, was a trait he could easily tell.

He knew what your troubles were, it wasn’t hard to figure out. He just wished you saw yourself through his eyes, and maybe then you’d understand just how beautiful you were.

You were funny, and so beautiful; definitely more beautiful than his bimbo of a cousin. You were smart, which he took notice of when he saw you reading a damn book rather than engaging in a valentines party back at Oxford. He seen your scores, and knew you took school seriously. A scholarship girl, through and through. But he thought it was cute.

There was never a flaw in you, and he only ever saw you for what you were; a genuine, caring and sweet person. Never did he pay mind to what everyone else so blatantly gawked at, acting as if they’d never seen a plus size person. How ignorant of them, he’d always say. How vile.

Tonight was special, a welcome to the new boy that Felix brought home from Oxford—Oliver, was his name. A peculiar boy, to Farleigh, but an easy friend to you.

You sat down on the far end of the couch, picking at the skin around your nails absentmindedly while the others around you drank wine from the bottle, singing a song you didn’t care to listen to. Every once and a while you’d look up at Venetia, just to find her giving you the thumbs up as she took one of her playthings for the night to her chambers with a dorky smile.

Farleigh watched you from across the room. Always from across the room, never close enough for you to realize he was ever even there. You complained about being in Venetias shadow, yet Farleigh basked in yours.

You wished that men would look at you. To spare you the time of day rather than just a polite smile. But Farleigh was the one who longed for you to look at him that way. He longed for you to look at him as more than just a friend, or an admirer—he wanted you to look at him as if you were lovers.

The night was still young, as were you and Farleigh. He had been planning his approach for at least a month, finally deciding to act on his need for you. So, he watched your doe eyes watch him walk towards you with a lump in his throat. Nervous.

“Farleigh.” You greeted—the warmth and familiarity of your voice filling his ears like a melodic symphony. It was slick like honey, and gentle like a dove in midnight air. “Hey.” he fumbled out after an awkward moment of silence. You smiled.

God, that fucking smile. Anything you wanted, would be yours if you promised to smile at him like that forever. It made his knees weak—weak enough for him to take his place comfortably next to you at the end of the couch.

“How are you?” He asked, staring into your eyes, waiting for a response. You hummed as you looked down at the slightly bleeding skin around your manicured nails. “I’ve been alright.” You lied, casting your eyes up to meet his.

The glint in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. He nodded in understanding, glancing down at his hands that were nervously clamped together with sweat, which he wiped on his slacks. “You look—“ he said, before he cleared his throat from imperfections, “you look beautiful, Y/N.” He smiled.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. The words you wanted to hear slipping past his lips made your walls come crumbling down. Was it finally your turn? Your turn at a chance of happiness? It couldn’t be. This must’ve been a joke. A sick prank he was playing on you with his friends probably laughing somewhere in the room.

Your brows furrowed and Farleigh saw the clear distaste on your face begin to form. “I-“ he started, but didn’t get to finish as he watched you get up and storm out of the room.

Farleigh, in a confused haze, chased after you as you paced to your room with tears in your eyes. He shouted your name from behind you, but you didn’t dare to stop and look back till you felt his hand capture your wrist gently, pulling you to stop your fast pace.

“What’s wrong? I—w-was it something I said? Or—” he rambled on desperately. Your eyes danced across his features with resentment. “You makin’ fun of me? Huh? You think I don’t know that I’m a fucking joke already? Leave me the fuck alone, Farleigh!” You yelled out through tears.

His mouth hung agape as he shook his head in a ‘no’ manner. “W-what? What are you talking about?” He asked, waiting for an answer. You sniffled, rubbing your eyes with your free hand. “You’re making fun of me, Farleigh. Why? I thought you were different.” You huffed out.

He paused for a moment, processing just exactly what you were accusing him of, before he gives you a certain look. A look that screams ‘what the fuck?’, because seriously, what the fuck are you talking about?

“I would never do that to you. Get that out of your head. I meant what I said.” He stated, his hand moving from your wrist to hold your hand firmly. “I like you.” He professed. “I’ve liked you since I met you at Oxford. I don’t know why you think so lowly of yourself—to the point where you convince yourself that you’re not worthy of love or a happy life.” He said, matter of factly.

“You deserve a happy life and more. You deserve the fucking world at your feet. The stars and the moon. You deserve the sun and the planets that orbit it. You deserve everything you want and more, so don’t you dare fucking think for a second any less, you hear me?” He said, his hands cupping your face, forcing eye contact.

That was all it took to have you sobbing in his arms, your body flush against his. “So I’ll say it again, and as many times as I have to until you finally fucking believe me.” He kissed he top of your head as he held you close, your body shaking against his. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured out.

He lead you into your room, softly shutting the door behind the both of you. He watched you curl up on the edge of your bed, rubbing at your weeping eyes. Your little sniffles broke his heart, but he was determined to change this. To change the way you saw yourself.

He stood above you, a singular hand tilting your chin up to face him. “Let me show you just how beautiful you are.” His voice barely above a whisper, in a hopeful tone. You hesitated, for only a moment, before giving in with a nod. “I need words, honey.” He said, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Please.” You whispered back. He nodded, taking off his button down shirt, revealing his toned chest and stomach. His v-line was deep, and his happy trail prominent with faint curls. He moved to take your shirt off, but you stopped him.

“I—I don’t..” you said, your eyes unable to meet his. He sighed, dropping to his knees to become eye level with you. He held your face in his hands like he did before with a small smile. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.” He reassured. You let out a sigh, nodding at him as a signal that it was okay.

His large hands met the hem of your shirt, sliding it up till it was over your shoulders, and onto the floor beneath you. He laid soft kisses against the top of your breasts, nipples hidden behind a bra. His hands traveled behind you, unclamping your bra, letting it slide off of your arms, landing next to your shirt.

“Perfect.” He mumbled against you. His mouth trialed to your nipple, sucking and licking at it to his hearts content. Your perk, sensitive bud was aching in his mouth, and you released a small mewl when you felt his teeth graze over it just barely biting down. He released your nipple with a loud pop before his tongue found its way to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other.

His hand groped at the breast his mouth was lapping at previously, gently pinching and pulling at your nipples. He released the nipple his mouth was working at with a loud pop, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your bud.

He gazed down at you with such admiration. It sent heat throughout your body, from the blushing of your cheeks down to your neck, and then down further more as you clenched around nothing as he laid peppery kisses to your stomach.

He traced absentmindedly around your stretch marks before planting a delicate kiss on a few of them. He kissed down till he was met with your pants, unbuttoning them agonizingly slow. When he finally slid them down your legs and onto the floor, he spread your legs open.

He gawked at the way your meaty flesh were plump through his fingers as he squeezed down on your meaty thighs. He licked and sucked at every inch of skin he could get his mouth on, sufficiently leavings a series of vampire-like hickies shamelessly on your inner thighs, only for him to see.

The prominent wet patch on your panties had his cock feel like it was suffocating in its confinements. You were insufferable; a walking, living, breathing temptation. With every innocent movement, the fat of your ass jiggled. It’s all he would watch when you’d walk in front of him, or past him and he’d have to break his neck to see.

The way your breasts bounced no matter what kind of shirt you were wearing. God, he had to go rub one out like a pervert one time because you decided to prance around in a flimsy tube top, nipples poking through on display. The self restraint he had held with you was absolutely mind boggling, yet he managed.

He was doing good, too. Up until now, when he finally had you. Your face was flushed red, all the way down to your neck. Your nipples perked and hard, craving more of his undivided attention. his finger found your panties, sliding it to the side, watching as your juices all but dripped out of your needy cunt.

“Fuckkk..” he groaned out. He pressed a kiss to your swollen clit before rubbing your bud mindlessly with his thumb in a soothing manner. “Know how needy my girl is.” He muttered, licking at your entrance, slurping at the welcoming juices that flowed out.

“Farleigh..” you whimpered out. He coped at you. “I know, honey. I know. M’gonna take care of you, baby.” His tongue swirling around your most sensitive part of your body had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in a pure euphoric feeling.

Sure, you’ve rubbed one out before, but it was never anything like this. It never felt this good, or like you were on a different fucking planet. He must’ve laced his tongue with something, because there was no way someone could do what he was doing with his tongue.

Every flick sent a shiver up your spine, and had you orbiting. Every suckle at your needy little bud that wasn’t so little when he released it from his mouth made you all the more closer to the edge of your on coming orgasm. He lapped at your juices like it was the best thing he’s ever had in his life, and to him, it was.

You tasted sweet on his tongue, and a little bitter but in a delicious way. He wanted to know what you looked like when you came. Did your mouth fall open with bliss, or would it be clenched shut? Would he be able to see those eyes he loves so much, or would they be in the back of your head?

Your hand clawed at his hair, pulling when it became too much. The balls of your feet dug into his back, all of this is a painful way, yet Farleigh didn’t seem to care. He relished in knowing how good he was making you feel. Knowing only he got to see you like this made him go feral, lapping and sucking at your cunt vigorously.

“Wait—F-Farleigh, I’m— I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out, your head thrown back onto the covers on your bed. He groaned into you, sending a wave of bliss through your core, and that was what made you come so easily undone. Your orgasm crashed into you like an unsuspecting wave, but of pleasure with a hint of pain as he continued torturing you through your orgasm.

“Good girl. Did so good, baby. Y’look so fuckin’ pretty.” He praised, kissing your thigh as you came down from your world-shattering high. Little did you know, that was going to be nothing compared to the way you’re going to feel when he was done with you.

You watched as he stripped himself of his pants and boxers, freeing himself of his confinements. His cock sprang and stood proudly, slapping his stomach. You gulped at the sight of him. Hard, with prominent veins on the sides with a red, angry tip that leaked pre-cum. He was more long than girthy, around 8 inches, the biggest you’d ever seen in person.

It twitched slightly, and his heavy, slightly hairy balls hung, full of cum that you wished to milk out of him till he couldn’t give any more. You craved him, and the need to be stuffed was consuming your darkening thoughts, spreading your legs even wider as a welcoming. An initiative that Farleigh happily took.

He rubbed his length through your folds, teasingly. Each time he did so, his weeping tip bumped against your engorged, sensitive clit. “Sweet girl, you’re so wet f’me.” He pointed out, causing that familiar flush to resume on your hot cheeks. “Please fuck me, Farleigh.” You asked.

Farleigh couldn’t possibly say no to his best girl when you looked up at him like he was a godsend. When you finally looked up at him the way he longed for you to. “Anything you want, baby.” And sure enough, his cock slipped past your lower lips, invading your pussy with such recklessness.

Your walls squeezed him tightly, a warm welcome as you clamped down harder onto him when he fully bottomed out. His balls slapped against the underside of your pussy with each hard thrust he delivered to your cunt, angled just the right way, hitting all the right spots that made your legs shake.

“F-farleigh! Oh-“ you moaned out, gripping the sheets below you with such force, anything to stabilize yourself from the blunt force of his cock dominating your insides.

Farleighs mind was consumed with you. The way you felt around him. The way you looked under him, hair matted to your forehead as desperate cries of pleasure slipped past your lips. He couldn’t help himself, he needed to be closer to you. If he could live in your skin, he would, because even now as you were joined together, it wasn’t enough for him.

His lips attacked yours, taking your breath away as your tongues tangled together. He tasted like his Marlboro cigarettes, mixed with the taste of you. The kiss was passionate, an exchanging of unspoken words the two of you would discuss afterwards.

Your mixed saliva was messy, to say the least. It covered the both of your chins, and a string of saliva connected your tongues still, even as he pulled away. The whole scene was erotic as he kissed down your neck, licking and biting at spots, surely a display of marks for everyone to see and wonder who left them.

But he wasn’t hiding himself, not after this, no. He’ll be at your side forever and always after this. There was no more lonely nights of longing, no more worries and ‘what if’s’, or feeling incomplete, like something was missing, when the whole time he knew that it was you.

A wave of relief danced over your features. You didn’t have to go through this alone now, and as you were on the brink of your second release for the night, the stars seemed to shine brighter through your half opened curtains. He luminescent lighting spanning over Farleighs features, making him look most ethereal above you.

His face was contorted in bliss, a show of how he felt as he forhead rested against yours. Pants slipped past his lips as his hand met the flesh of your breast, squeezing. “Need you. M’gonna cum, baby. Can I cum in you?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded. “Yes, please, Farleigh. Please cum in me.” You moaned against him.

He moaned out, his pace becoming a little more sloppy as his hips chased for a release. You felt your orgasm consume you for a second time tonight, making you tumble over yourself as your body wracked with an overwhelming sense of pleasure. His tip hit your g-spot with every thrust, and the feeling was becoming overwhelmingly good.

Tears lined your eyes, but he kissed them away with sweet nothings as he painted your walls a creamy white color, his hips finally stuttering against yours in a final show of his arousal for the night. His balls grew tight, as he filled with with a groan. Sure enough, your sweet cunt was milking him greedily.

When he finally decided to pull out, he watched the way both of your release mixed together in a beautiful display. He smiled softly down at you, your eyes connecting in a sense of a strange understanding. Both of you, outsiders, who now had each other.

His hand found yours as he planted a charming kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He hummed out, watching as you nodded, propping yourself upright.

He slid his clothes back swiftly, making his way to the restroom, wetting a cloth with warm water before making his way back to where you sat, waiting on your bed. “Let me see, honey.” He urged, ushering your legs back open, gently dapping the warm cloth on your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the remnants of the mess both of you had made.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he used the clean side of the warm cloth to gently dab your forehead, ridding it of sweat, pushing your hair out of the way. “Yes—I—thank you” you said after a moment of pondering your words.

He raised a brow. “For what?” He asked. You blushed, embarrassed under his peering gaze. Ironic, seeing as he saw and heard so much more from you just mere seconds ago. “For everything, I suppose. I-I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” You muttered, almost ashamed.

He clicked his tongue as he flicked your forehead with his finger. “You silly girl.” Was all he muttered. “Don’t worry about that now. It doesn’t matter anymore. You know now, and that’s what counts.” He smiled, a confirmation that everything indeed, was going to be okay.

His curly hair seemed more vibrant, and the glint in his eyes told you what you longed and awaited to hear the most.

“I love you.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

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talaok · 8 months

Note

I just had the worst and saddest possible day ever and all I wished was someone here, just to hug me under my cold covers. Can you please make something up with pedro and reader please?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: I'm so sorry love, and I know your bad day was like two weeks ago, but perhaps you can keep this for another time you're feeling down.

You were cold.

You were so cold your feet were gonna freeze any moment now and fall onto the floor.

It didn't matter that wool covered every inch of your body, or that you were still dressed in your outside clothes, because the window was open, and as much as you longed to close it, you felt as if the second you moved from the fetal position you felt so comfortable in, the whole world would come crashing down.

And you didn't feel like having the word crash down. Not today.

All your energy had already been drained by the shitshow of a day you had to endure, and holding the word up with your bare hands was low on the list of things you wanted to be doing right now.

The second on the list you were already doing, lying in bed while hiding under the covers, but the first, the first one only one person could help you with, and he had yet to come home from work.

"I'm home"

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you were a witch capable of summoning people just by thinking of them.

Your own greeting was muffled by the blanket covering your mouth.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

If you were a witch, Pedro was a mind-reader himself... although it mustn't been that hard to figure out something was wrong by the image in front of him.

The mattress shifted underneath his weight and before you knew it he was kneeling beside you, gently stoaking your cheek.

"'m cold" you mumbled, not turning around to meet his worried glare.

"why didn't you close the window?" he spoke softly, as if he were afraid of breaking you.

"I was too tired"

"Oh baby" he cooed, his other hand caressing your shoulder through the blanket now "What happened?"

You shifted slightly closer to him, longing for his warmth, before turning your head to look up at him.

"had a bad day" you tried to shrug as if you hadn't cried on your way home from work.

"I'm sorry" he said honestly, looking into your eyes like he wanted to dive into your mind and take away everything that was bothering you,

because he did want to do that.

"You want to talk about it?"

You slowly shook your head

"Alright," he nodded "you want me to close the window?"

You shook your head again

"What can I do then angel?"

"Get under the covers with me?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart" he smiled, wasting no time before obliging.

Now you turned toward him completely, immediately clinging to him.

His arms wrapped around you, as your legs wrapped around him.

It was like an intricate game of twisters, except you were far more comfortable, and you suspected twister wouldn't make your heart swell like Pedro did.

You rested your head on his chest, and he placed his chin on top of yours, inhaling your scent as he had yearned to do all day.

you lost yourself in his own scent and the feel of his sweet yet strong embrace, and in only a minute, your worries were out the window, and you didn't feel even a tiny bit cold.

The man was like a walking heater.

"better?" he asked

"much better" you felt yourself smile

386 notes · View notes

vctrvn-ls · 9 months

Note

Hi babes! Could you write something about Filly and Reader being together and they're filming a video and he is like clinging to her? Just like he's with Nella, he's a touch starved boy hehe

General Knowledge | Filly |

warnings: language

wordcount: 2.1k

"Yeah maaaann!"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"...." Filly looked at you with crossed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry," you snorted "I'm sorry that was just really funny to me." You covered your face.

"Gyal's laughing at my intro." Filly turned to the camera "She's laughing at my intro."

"No, no, no, no," you tried to protest but the laughter just kept coming "No, no, no." You grabbed onto his shoulder, throwing your head down in efforts to hide your face.

"Oh my god who did I bring?" Filly stated glancing down at you, who was dying for literally no reason.

"Anyway!" Filly continued as you sat up and cleared your throat "Todays guest as you can see is the one and only y/n!!" He grabs both of your shoulders from behind, presenting his guest, whilst shaking you aggressively.

You hold on for dear life, trying your best not to laugh again. Filly's excitement and joy was so contagious that even the saddest mood would lighten up in seconds.

"Thank you for having me." You wave to the lens "I'm really thrilled to be here. And I can't wait to destroy him with my big brain." You point to your head with both fingers.

"Now the last bit was so unnecessary." He poked you.

"No, no I think it was. I mean I don't want to spoil the whole video, but I definitely think I'm gonna win." You nodded confidently.

"Well," Filly said in a cheeky tone "What you don't know...IS THAT YOU'RE GOING AGAINST DARKEST MAN!" His voice rung at the last part followed by cheers and claps from him.

You turned around seeing Darkest running from behind a corner with his arms up and smiling, waving from side to side like a football player who had just scored a goal. Of course you saw him earlier today, but never would you have guessed that you would be playing against him.

"Love, love everyone." He sat down next to Filly "Nice to see you again Miss y/l/n." He stuck his hand out for you to shake.

"Nice to-" your words were cut of with your mouth dropping open in utter shock as Darkest dodged your handshake, pretending to fix this beanie.

"Oh man." Filly covered his mouth "Just the beginning and he's already violating you." Filly poked your chest.

"Tsk don't touch me, Felipe." You rolled your eyes and swatted away his finger, actually feeling a tiny bit annoyed.

"Felipe!" Filly repeated for the audience "She got so mad she used my govvy against me." He screwed his eyes shut throwing himself onto you and making you retract your serious face, breaking into a series of small giggles while try hug him back.

To be fair it was hard to be mad at anyone with the presence of Filly. He really was a ray of sunshine. A very loud ray of sunshine.

After the explaining of the rules and the forfeit being The World's Hottest Chip, you and Darkest went serious and in full focus.

"Alright hit me." Darkest said sharply, hyping himself up.

"First round!" Filly announced "Flags."

"Oh shit." You cursed.

"Not a good sign," Filly chuckled at your words "Flag number one...Darkest you go first." he held up the phone to his friend.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait. Wait." You held your finger up and leaned forward.

Filly blinked at you in confusion, not knowing what you were going at.

"Filly what's with the sexism?" You state in monotone, trying your best not to crack up. Filly did though "NAAAH!" He yelped, covering his face, falling onto your shoulder while howling from laughter.

Poor darkest didn't know if he could laugh at that joke or not.

You turned to the camera, shaking your head while tutting in disappointment "The disrespect."

Filly gripped onto you trying not to pass out from how much he was already tired of laughing. But it was only the beginning of the video.

"You know what?" He managed to squeeze out a couple of strained words "You know what?" He wiped his eyes "It's funnier because of her face- Like do ya'll see how serious she is?" Filly looks at you again.

"It's funny because you think I'm joking when I'm not." You shake your head.

"Really?" He asked naively.

"No of course not." You giggle, pushing his knee "You idiot."

"A-am I interrupting something?" Darkest leaned over to the two of you, waving his hands "Should I maybe leave?"

"Nah, nah." Filly breathed out "We're done, we're done."

"No actually maybe you should." You replied, again with your serious tone.

"Great." Darkest leaned back onto the couch, crossing his arms and staring right into the camera, whilst in the background Filly's chortling chimed through the room.

After the first round you were behind by two points, which wasn't looking good for you. You really didn't want to eat that spicy chip.

"Round numero dos." Filly declared, looking at his phone "Maths."

You nodded enthusiastically "Now this is my time to shine."

"Is it though?" Darkest asked in a sassy tone.

"Hey listen yeah," you leaned over Filly glaring at Darkest "Just because your forehead is big, doesn't mean your brain is alright?" The irony was probably funnier than the actual joke, considering the fact that you were losing.

"Oh my god." Filly dropped his phone, hiding his open mouth with the palms of his hands while staring at darkest.

"You see," Darkest shuffles in his position and moved forward, closer to the camera, as if talking to the audience "She's getting way too comfortable." He shook his head.

You bit onto your lip, trying not to laugh.

"I say one, ONE word to her and she just buries me." He sighs, dramatically dropping his head down, making you completely lose it and grab Filly's shoulder while biting onto your sleeve.

Now, words can't even describe how loud and high-pitched Filly's next howl was when he turned around and saw your hilarious face, eyes watering, eyebrows up and the fact that you were literally BITING down onto your hand so you wouldn't crack up.

The whole room instantly filled with the most outrageous forms of laughter. Darkest was swaying from side to side on the couch, holding onto his stomach, while Filly's friends behind the camera rolled around on the floor (the editor was also laughing after zooming onto your face).

Sounds dumb, but to witness your expression that you had pulled was really a sight to see.

Filly himself was back on you, vigorously clinging on and laughing right in your ear (you thought you were gonna go deaf).

"Oh my Christ!" You almost felt tears in your eyes "I-I-" you tried to speak, but another wave of Filly's hilarious laughter threw you off making you grab onto his sweater and pray to god that you weren't going to burst right there and then.

Few seconds later the atmosphere relaxed and you managed to say what you wanted to "I was gonna say, I don't know what I was laughing at more at the fact that you guys were literally on the floor," you pointed to Filly's friends "Or at your laughter that fucking almost made me lose my hearing." You looked at Filly and gave him a playful shove.

"Oh my days," he chuckled "This is on god the best video I have ever made."

"Maths." You stated.

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, so," he read from his phone "nine times n-"

"EIGHTY ONE!" You shout, jumping up.

Darkest and Filly exchanged glances.

"Thank you, thank you very much," you shook Filly's hand as you sat down "And that's," you turned to the lens "That's how it's done."

And that is pretty much how the maths round went, Filly didn't even have a chance to finish the question because you were already yelling out the answer.

Thanks to your wonderful mathematics skills, you were beating darkest by three points, leaving him in utter shock as the third round came by.

"Round number threeeee. Music."

You and Darkest both let out a groan.

"What?" Filly asked "This is probably the easiest one."

"Yeah well if it's not Drake or fucking Lady Gaga then I probably don't know." Darkest admitted, aggressively shaking his head in the funny way he always does.

"Pfffttt-AHAHAAH" You fell back, pulling Filly after you by his shoulder completely on accident, making him crash into you.

"Oh I'm sorry!" He wheezed, worried that he might've hurt you, but you didn't feel anything except him holding onto your arm.

While the two of you were busy laughing, Darkest was talking to the audience "I feel like I've been third wheeling this entire video." He blinks "I'm sad." He says dramatically knitting his eyebrows and sniffing.

"Aye Darkest, man," Filly sat up, eyes all wet "We love you, I swear."

"Well he does," you mumble "Don't make it we."

"Alright I'm do-"

"No no no I'm kidding!" You exclaim, reaching over to Darkest "I'm just playing!" You pat his shoulder before sitting back down.

"Phew, alright. Let's start."

An unfamiliar melody started playing and you looked at Darkest who was just as clueless as you were.

"Are you serious?" Filly's eyebrows jumped up as he noticed the two of you.

You shook your head.

"Not a clue."

"Honest. Baby Keem?"

"Huh?" You leaned in to look at Filly's phone.

"You know the one that sang Orange Soda."

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Bitch sit on my face I attack that?" Filly hummed and tried to move his shoulders in a rhythm.

"Horror." Darkest said pointing at Filly's shoulders "Absolute horror."

Filly's mouth fell open in offense and he turned to you "You're not gonna back me here?"

You slowly shook your head "No he's right."

Filly theatrically threw his arms up and turned to the camera "Comment down below-"

"No honey don't embarrass yourself," you said in a California-girl accent while disappointingly shaking your head and putting one hand on Filly's shoulder in a sassy motion.

"What the-" Filly wheezed not even able to finish his sentence as his eyes screwed shut.

After a few minutes of calming down, you continued. Again.

"Next one. Now this is a friend test," he played the track.

A millie-second had passed, no not even a millie second, a quarter of a second. You had only managed to hear like three notes when you jumped up in your seat and roared out "100 BAGS!" You looked at Filly.

"Freestyle." You added, just in case.

"Ladies and gentlemen we have a winner..." Filly announced looking down "Y/N!!!!" He cheered, grabbing your hand and putting it up just like in boxing matches, while Darkest face planted the couch.

"She needs to understand that P's last quarter a hundred grand-" you had an imaginary microphone in your hand, handing it over to Filly who instantly caught on "Call me the runnin' man, chasing the next hundred grand...” “Rah, rah-”

To make a long story (or more like song) short, you both finished the entire track whilst doing questionable dance moves and Filly ended it with a tight and affectionate hug stating "This is what true friends look like."

But that wasn't the end. Definitely not. Darkest had a whole chip to eat.

The three of you stared at the red triangle that was in Darkest's hand.

You leaned over him while Filly peeped from behind you, hands on your shoulders as if "hiding" from the ghost chip.

"Can I- uh-"

"Say some last words?" You tried to guess Darkest's sentence.

"No."

Filly chuckled in your ear.

"I was gonna say can I have some milk?"

"He needs some milk." You called out, turning around to Filly, repeating the meme, feeling embarrassed straight away.

After another 15 minutes of fussing around over Darkest, he finally took a bite.

"How is it?" You ask almost instantly after he put it in his mouth (the chip, don’t be so dirty minded).

"Is it spicy?" Filly quizzed, still hiding behind you.

"How hot is it?"

"Does it hu-"

"Oh my god can you people wait!" He exclaimed, focusing on his chewing.

"Ah, oh my gohd-" He stuck his tongue out, now struggling to chew.

"You have to chew ten times blud. Otherwise it don't count!" Filly called him out.

"Nah, nah I can't," Darkest let out a shaky breathe before covering his mouth, getting up and aggressively pushing past the two of you, running for the sink.

"Oh my god-" You and Filly laughed at the series of spitting, finding it hilarious.

"Milk! MILK!" Darkest yelled. You grabbed the milk and shoved it into his hands, watching with both curiosity and horror as a sweaty Darkest finished half the bottle in seconds.

"I'm gonna be sick," he panted, wiping his mouth.

"Nasty." Filly commented from beside you.

"You didn't even like have any." You said in disappointment.

"Didn't have any!?" Darkest's voice went high pitched as he stared at you and Filly in disbelief "My mouth started melting just from smelling it!"

Filly hid his face in your arm as he tried to suppress his laughter from how funny this whole situation was: Darkest looking half-alive, while you and Filly witnessed his struggle and also mercilessly judging him.

20 minutes later you filmed the outtro, singed out and finished filming, Darkest's tongue still swollen and barely moving. (legend says it's swollen till this day)

#beta squad #yung filly #darkest man #youtube #chunkz #aj shabeel #niko omilana #king kenny #sharky

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cranberrymoons · 4 months

Text

same old lang syne

prompt: snow (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 1,000 rated: t tags: angst, open ending, post-breakup (like years and years) – aka the existentialism of running into your ex in the grocery store at christmas notes: title from earth's saddest christmas song – same old lang syne

welcome to Day 21 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

He’s standing in front of the avocado display, contemplating life and guacamole when he feels a hand land on his shoulder from behind.

“Steve?”

He jumps, sucking in a sharp breath as he turns around, blinking at the face of the man standing a few feet away, who’s staring at him with wide eyes and a little smile. It’s so unexpected that he almost doesn’t recognize him, which is insane, because –

“Eddie,” he says. He shakes his head, letting out a little laugh. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s face relaxes into a smile, and he holds out an arm for a hug. Steve returns it, feels his hand settle over his back in that place where he always used to hold him, slotting together warm and solid and familiar in spite of how long it’s been.

They’ve always fit like this, together. Without even trying, they just fit.

“How are you?” he asks, pulling away before his throat can get too tight. “What are you doing here?”

There’s a lingering whiff of Eddie’s cologne clinging to his collar, and he tries not to focus on it too much. Tries not to let it draw his attention away from the way Eddie’s eyes are raking over him, his hair as wild as ever where it’s pulled back from his face. The trim cut of his leather jacket and the shine of his shoes, the soft hint of lines around his mouth.

“Just visiting,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder at nothing. “Christmas. Wayne.” He holds up the thing in his hand, which is a block of butter. “Baking cookies.”

Steve lets out a little laugh. “Nice,” he says. He holds up his basket. “Um. Same – just, parents, you know.”

And it’s been… how long? Almost ten years since they’ve seen each other. It feels a little awkward, a little weird, a little – something, but Eddie’s smile is still there on his face same as ever, and Steve’s heart gives a wet little thwump in his chest.

“Hey, uh –” Eddie clears his throat, scratches the back of his neck. “You want to grab a drink or something? Catch up?”

---

It’s Hawkins, Indiana, at 8 PM on Christmas Eve, so they predictably don’t find an open bar, but they head back to the store for a six pack and sit with it in Steve’s rental car.

It’s snowing outside, big soft flakes falling from the sky and gathering on the windshield, but he doesn’t turn on the wipers to clear it away, and neither of them comments on the fact that it was snowing like this back then too, the last time they saw each other.

Steve’s thinking about it, though. He thinks Eddie probably is too, judging by the faraway look in his eye as he stares out the window and takes a sip of his beer. The radio is playing softly in the background, a cheery Christmas song that makes Steve feel a little like sticking his fist through the whole stereo system. The snow makes everything else outside the car feel muted and gentle, like the whole world is holding them close.

“So how’s the–”

“What’ve you been–”

They both speak at the same time, then break off with matching embarrassed laughs. It seems to unwind some of the tension between them though, and Eddie smiles at him in the glow coming from the lights of the grocery store parking lot.

“How have you been?” he asks, turning so his back is pressed to the door, facing Steve as much as he can in the tight little space. “Where are you living now?”

“Yeah, good,” Steve says. He feels the corner of his mouth twist down. “For a while, you know. Chicago, sort of. I got married?”

“Oh, that’s–” Eddie’s eyes go a little wide, darting down to stare at his ring finger, which is empty. “Great?”

Steve lets out a quiet little sound, tilting his head to the side. “It was for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. “Was he – or…”

“She,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “She’s great. Just– you know. Deserved better than me.”

A little line appears between Eddie’s eyebrows, and one of his hands reaches out then stops an inch away from landing on top of Steve’s. He hesitates there for a minute, like he’s not sure if it’s okay, and Steve’s eyes drop away from his face to stare down at it.

He lifts one of his fingers, just enough that it grazes against the underside of Eddie’s palm, warm and soft, tracing a little pattern there until he draws Eddie’s hand down into his. His throat is tight, eyes hot and pricking at the corners, and he blinks a few times to clear it, eyes lifting back to Eddie’s face.

“And you?” he asks as Eddie’s hand settles in his. It feels safe there, like it’s never left. “Are you…”

“For a while,” Eddie says. “Not– you know, not married or anything, but just… seeing people. Dating. And then touring a lot and just– you know how it goes.”

And Steve doesn’t really, but he nods anyway, a little smile playing out over his face.

“That’s right,” he says. “The band’s– I mean, congrats. You guys are doing really well.”

“The band is doing really well,” Eddie says, nodding slowly. His eyes are shining a little, and he sniffs, blinking back to Steve’s face. “I miss you.”

Steve lets out a little sound. “Don’t.”

“I do,” Eddie says. He shakes his head again, and Steve can feel it too, vision going blurry with it. “Every day. I fucked up.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” he says. “I never should’ve let you go.”

“It was the right–”

But Steve cuts himself off, because he was going to say the right choice, which is what he’s been telling himself ever since it happened. But he doesn’t actually believe that. He never has.

He takes a breath.

“I miss you too.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

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autistichalsin · 5 months

Text

You know what the saddest thing in the world is though?

When you raid the grove, but leave Halsin alive, allowing him to show up at your campsite later for revenge.

This is a man with an entire life of trauma and more to the point, survivor guilt. He lost his entire family. He has been kidnapped and enslaved before- and during that enslavement, he saw the trophified bodies of other elves as a reminder of what would happen to him if he misbehaved. He witnessed the start of the Shadow Curse and in turn watched almost all his friends die. He spent 100 years trying to fix it, so desperate that he jumped on the chance the first time an untrustworthy adventurer said he was going near. His companions then abandoned him and allowed him to be captured, where he was tortured.

So imagine you're Halsin, right, desperate to see your home and loved ones again, fighting to hold on as the goblins do all kinds of awful shit to you. You meet another stranger who breaks you out of the cage and agrees to help you kill the leadership so your Grove, which you know is in danger, will be safe. They even tell you to stay back and rest while they do it, how nice! Man, you got lucky. You really owe this stranger so much. You can't wait to talk to them and repay the debt by imparting your knowledge of their condition on them.

The leaders leave, which worries you, so you wildshape and go as fast as you can to your home. And then you find the bodies of everyone you care for strewn around, not even given the dignity of a grave or cremation, and the entire place sacked. Your place of worship desecrated and turned into the site of a massacre. And you can't even give them a burial because you don't know if the leaders are coming back, if you're next.

Once again you're the only survivor and you don't even know why it's you and not one of them. Once again you're left with the crushing guilt of surviving when those you love did not. You weep for them and steel yourself- the murderers must die. Painfully.

So you run and you gather up some animal friends who you grew close to here, asking them to help you avenge the Grove. They're devastated and angered and agree to it at once.

You show up at the murderer's campsite, enraged, and they're awfully dismissive about the whole thing, even trying to talk you down, as though that could be possible. You bluntly tell them that there's nothing left to say as your mercy died when you saw that bloodbath. You're going to avenge your loved ones and your home, their murderers are going to die to right the wrongs, and that's that.

And then you fail. You aren't strong enough to overcome the sheer numbers advantage they have over you and your animal companions. The animals die, and then so do you. As you die, you hear one of them mocking you, "first Druid, and now last Druid, thanks to us."

That's your legacy. Last Druid of the Emerald Grove.

There's a lot of sad, sad fates that can befall the characters in this game, but that's easily got to be one of the most tragic and least deserved in the entire game.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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lectorel · 6 months

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Paulina steals Spectra's schtick: a monologue

Yeah, I know about your whole 'one bad day'. Ever consider that maybe the problem isn't human nature? Maybe it's just you.

'Cause I had my bad day, considered going evil, decided it was tacky, and got into psychology instead.

Not that I need to be a psychologist to see how you work.

Deep down, you know that you're an boring, pathetic little man who can only effect the world through violence. You have nothing else to offer - you're just an overgrown and undersocialized toddler throwing a temper tantrum over not getting what you want.

No one cares about who you were before you decided to become a career psycho, but I bet I can guess the basics - you were an ambitionless loser in a dead-end job, silently seething over the world's failure to give you the attention and respect you desired.

Not that you ever bothered to do anything worth either.

Then one day you got hurt. A mugging, a gunshot, falling into a vat of acid like a b-grade goon in a Saturday morning cartoon, whatever. No one cared, because you'd never cared about anyone in your whole selfish life.

That was the last straw, wasn't it? Realizing that you could have died and mattered to no one. Someone stronger than you might have taken it as a wake-up call to improve themselves. You just used it as an excuse to start killing.

You were always a clown, joker. The saddest, dullest, most pathetic clown in the whole damn circus, and that's all you'll ever be.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #paulina sanchez #monologue #flash fic

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inwhosereverie · 2 months

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afab!reader x kyle ‘gaz’ garrick | 1.9k words

description: you were in need of relief after your boyfriend broke up with you. your last ditch effort to go in a club was not wasted.

note: my first time writing smut, i felt like i lost my vocabulary.

warnings: 18+, mating press, p in v, drunk sex, unprotected intercourse.

you stood lost as the music blare into your eardrums through your head prohibiting you from hearing your logical opinions as to why you shouldn’t even be here in the first place.

it was not your place, far and opposing to what you usually are into. you didn’t even know how to enter the place, yes, a club.. the scent of vomit, alcohol, sweat, drunk mindless people screaming and dancing through bright colorful lights you could get blinded by.

you pull the hem of your pink silk dress, nervously brushing a strand of hair off your face, brushing it behind your ear with a shaky breath walking further into the very messy place.

your reasoning, very dumb, even for you. your boyfriend of 2 years just recently broke up with you about 2 months ago.. which was still fresh in your mind and one thing you very much miss about the relationship was the physical touch, in which at first you weren’t so fond of but now you searched for—

the way he’d hold you, nestle into you, breathe you, kiss you, fuck you, you missed that. and now to find the most saddest excuse to have it, a club, get drunk, get too out of your head and finally have the guts to pull a guy out the bar for some fun time.

a dangerous yet very endearing idea you’ve been thinking every night about, your fingers never satisfied you, your thoughts weren’t enough— and maybe tonight you can finally get him out your head, wish that somebody in here would knock the longing out of you via their dick.

despite how insanely nasty your thoughts were, how everything was just about getting laid.. the way you prep yourself, look all dolled up and ready to mingle, putting yourself in a dress that felt it revealed too much of you shouldn’t go to waste no matter how embarrassed you already felt.

in all honesty, if it weren’t for your personal needs you’d be bundled up in bed, on your phone in a cozy outfit throughout the whole day and night, relaxing, enjoying your free time before you go back to work. not this, be around loud social people who slurs their words.. but you were only comforted by the thought that maybe someone here has the same intentions as you.

first thing you went to was the bar, of course, where else? you weren’t going to dance sober because you’d be sober enough to get flustered and run as if everyone was laughing at you. you wearily asked for a shot of whiskey, the only alcohol you knew that was high on its level; probably just a few shots would get you drunk.

and that you were correct, you sat down on that bar stool no longer than 30 minutes with 4 shots and you have a spinning world, your brain foggy, eyes droopy, looking around made you want to puke. but no! you have a mission! clumsily hopping off the stool, snaking your way to the dance floor.. bumping into everyone that is.

“woah.. easy there, dove.” you’ve harshly bump your shoulder against a man’s chest, you were about to tip and fall over if not for his large hands catching you around your waist, the other held you forearm in place.. your eyes fluttered up immediately from the sound of his soothing voice, a tone that immediately got your veins to pump. not only was his voice charming, so was his appearance. you didn’t realize his own slurring of words, but be damn sure you were more drunk than he was.

tall male, chiseled jaw, pretty smile, a clean faded cut, properly shaven, strong arms, handsome… very.

“drinkin’ me up well?” he teased, pulling you forward, a cheeky smile plastered on his face. “mhm.. you got the looks.” you slur, though you try to hide it willingly stumbling ahead, watching as he would slide his hand from your forearm to your hand— calloused, rough and bigger than yours yet, he held you gently now that you’ve managed to balance yourself in his hold.

“you’re not too bad yourself.” your breath hitched when he twirled you around, tugging you closer, getting your back to press against his broad chest- tipping his head forward to whisper down your ear. you felt his breath caress your jaw and cheek, the smell of alcohol coming from him. something you never knew smelt so attractive until now. he whispered, the gravely tone in his voice tickled your ear “a gorgeous babe, in fact..” it was suggestive, without even looking over your shoulder you knew the man was smirking.

you felt a shiver ran down your spine, especially when his large hand slither down your abdomen, feeling the silky fabric of your cute pink dress.. a mischievous hand resting roughly over your pelvis pushing your ass to press on his crotch. you, stupid you, mindlessly started grinding for him. you heard him sigh, keeping his hand over you, the other repositioning to your hips— the subtle grinding while following along the music as if you were only dancing.

you feel him slowly get hard over his trousers, only from the feeling of his bulge against your ass, you bit your lip by how big he felt. you never knew you were this needy for something so quickly, you were always someone who stood by your words that sex means more when there’s strings tied. you’ll stumble upon those words when you spoke of it again, now that you’re doing something you once believed was stupid and useless.

but that is a thought that will not appear in your fucked out head now that you were prompted near the edge of his bed, smelling the fragrance he’d normally use, the soft cotton of his grey sheets underneath the dim light that his bedside lamp lit. legs pushed up your chest as he rammed his cock deep into you, your silky dress somewhere on his floor.. you two couldn’t wait, even in his car on the way to his place you were already sucking his veiny dick greedily..

yes, he was drunk driving but shit he had to get you home, he just had to.

it escalated so fast but if someone like you had to bump into him, such an eye-catcher, well-dressed, drunken eyes yet your eyes still held such innocence within such a place when you looked up at him, what would you expect a man would do? he swore his brown irises was covered by his blown pupils from the sight of you. you both quickly muttered your names in-between hungry lips when you two were stumbling to get inside his house, undoing the first strap of your dress.

he’s got you where you both wanted yourself to be, underneath him with the only sounds you knew how to make were moans, whimpers, and whines of his name. lips not once leaving yours or the skin you let him behold as he marks your insides with his pre, your tightness made him growl with every hard thrusts. “fuck, y’feel good..” he breathily moan out, trailing kisses down the sides of your lips to your jawline. his room echoes the sound of his creaking bed and the slapping of skins.

you cry out of ecstasy, a pleasure you haven’t been feeling for months, or maybe even years.. a whole stranger treating your pussy better than your boyfriend ever did. “Kyle..” you called his name in such a slutty tone that it caused him to push deeper, the tip of his fat cock bullying your cervix over and over. ruining your insides as if he wants your pussy to remember every veins of his cock. his size. “mmhh, fuck, lovely.. say that again. say my name.” he grunts, his dick twitching only from the sounds you were making, his balls hitting your ass with every hard shove. “K-Kyle!” you repeat, gasping it out this time.

clawing the bottoms of your thighs while he fucks you deep, the kisses and love bites he gives from around your neck down to your collarbone and breasts making you shiver underneath him. nipping your nipples, pulling at it roughly by his teeth continuously plunging his girth into your needy little hole.

you were seeing stars, every pistons of his hips felt like he’s sobering you up. watching him lick your hardened nipples, sucking like his life depended on it only for him to stop when you clamp down around him. leaving his mouth open yet remained pressed on your small plump breast, a loud moan erupting from his throat— you felt so fucking good it made him dizzier, like you were better than any alcohol or drugs he would ever take. both your thoughts were hazy, rutting into you like a horny animal.

the sight of your head tipped over the edge of Kyle’s bed, your body rocking along with the rhythm of his hips, you felt so full- looked so full.. your gummy walls leaking around his cock creating a creamy ring around his base, the wet sounds your pussy makes mixing with both of yours’ fluids, he was sure his sheets were soaked of your juices with the way you were leaking. “shit.” he mutters, movement slowing down only to lean back and watch you through half-lidded eyes.

so fucked and stretched out beneath him, like a wonderful.. pleasurable wet dream his drunk ass had created in his head, perfection. “fuckin’ gorgeous, you are..” he praised bending back down with a smile drawing on his lips, it’s not just his drunkenness talking ‘cause you are one hell of a pull. his hands leaving your thighs alone to bring your arms above your head, pinning you further down the soft mattress of his bed.

you squealed from the sudden jolt of Kyle’s hips, plunging his cock impossibly deeper down your bullied womb, the heels of your feet hooking around the back of his thighs to hold on to while he bounces his cock into your sopping pussy. your hips jumping at the sudden friction he gives your clit, a hand in-between your sweaty bodies swiping at it with his thumb. you felt your orgasm approaching, you started to spasm— your toes started to curl, with your eyes rolling back and you arching your back.

you’ve probably met the fucking lord by how good it felt, feeling heaven just above you, you squirt painting his pelvis and thighs with your sticky cream.. “mmhh, there you go.. there she is..” he caressed the tip of his nose over your jawline with a gentle chuckle. continuing to move inside you helping you ride out your high, overstimulation hitting you like electricity when he kept going on a rhythm. the last thrusts before he nestled his dick deeper inside your sensitive little cunt shooting thick ropes of cum inside you, filling your womb.

next early morning you’ve been greeted by a strong migraine and very sore muscles especially along your inner thighs. took you a whole minute to recall bits and pieces of what happened last night, you were reminded. a panic flowing through your blood but only for it to immediately falter when you took sight of a snoring man beside you.

his lips slightly open, half his gorgeous face buried into his fluffy pillow. you’ve sobered up, just a bit hung over but you know for damn sure your drunken mind didn’t fool you when you first looked at him back at the club, he was undoubtedly something to behold. to have him pressed against you like this, a hand draped over your midriff.. the faint looming smell of sex and alcohol still lingering in the air, maybe a little more rest would do fine.. choosing to cuddle yourself closer to his warm body, missing the way Kyle would subtly smile when you did.

#kyle gaz garrick #cod smut #gaz smut #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz x female reader #gaz imagine #gaz garrick

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