#well is that even surprising at this point
Text
Like A Fever
Synopsis. What was sweeter - you or the aphrodísiacs that they just so happened to take? Well, only one way to find out.
Pairings. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, aphrodísiacs, cúmplay, needy desperate boys, oral (male + female receiving), spitting, overstimming, Geto is kinda mean, voyeurísm (Choso’s), semi-public (Nanami’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.6k
A/N. Gojo’s came out accidentally a bit fluffy whoopsies.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Like candy
“Ya better clean your act up, doll.” he chuckles darkly in your ear, lips dragging down your neck. “S’bad manners, y’know?”
Telling you to clean your act up when he was the one making such a mess of you? Oh you could just smack him for that little comment - well, if he didn’t have you folded in half and split apart on his throbbing cock, that is.
And maybe he senses it - you wouldn’t be surprised. Because Toji’s giving a playful bite to your bottom lip, humming into your open mouth, “What? Got something to say to me?” As if to support his point, he pulls out - just enough that his cum dribbles down your shaky legs. “Had me eat that damn chocolate n’ now you’re giving me attitude?”
Only a souvenir from the way he’d gone so feral with just one bite, filling you up over and over until you were left wondering whether it was more the aphrodisiac or that Toji just liked seeing your poor pussy so overfilled and bloated.
“N-no.” you manage to get out.
“Good. Because I’m not done yet.”
It’s all that’s said before he’s pulling out. Completely.
A disappointed little whine leaves your lips before you even realize what’s happening. And you’re left clenching so greedily around nothing, thick globs of cum landing in a pool on the drenched sheets below.
“No- come back-.” If you were in any better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed about how pathetically you were begging for something- anything. Just anything but for Toji to pull away, kissing down your body until he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt.
But did he listen? Of course not. Because it you were such a fucking vision down there, it was almost hard to look - your pretty pussy all painted white with his cum, seeping into your skin.
And Toji’s so fucking hypnotized that he doesn’t even give you a warning before plunging nose-deep, unable to even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. No, the only thing on his mind was to bully his tongue through your swollen folds, dipping just into your sloppy entrance and ah-
He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you.
Sweet. You were so fucking sweet.
So pretty falling apart on his tongue as he laps up your juices like a man possessed. All your cute, broken little moans going straight to his aching dick. All that cum from before? It wouldn’t go to waste.
“Shit.” you flinch as he hisses out little profanities into your sensitive pussy, “Y’taste so good, so mine.” Words slurred and unfocused, like the chocolate was getting to him - or maybe it was how pussydrunk he was now.
Toji is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his lips around it - clearly having way too much fun with this. And shit you could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue.
“C’mon, doll.” Toji’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. “Give it t’me. Wan’ it all.”
And he was so fucking messy with it too - Toji always was, but right now it was like he couldn’t decide where to go next. Stretching you out, dipping inside your slutty hole, swirling his tongue against your ravaged clit over and over and-
“Yes! Yes yes yes-” your body jerks violently. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Feels so fucking good- don’ stop-.”
“So demanding.” he tuts mockingly around your dripping entrance, the vibrations sending white-hot jolts of electricity up your spine. But he’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. It wasn’t enough - it never might be and fuck Toji wanted more.
To taste it more. To have you like this - big fat tears dripping down your cheeks, pussy trying to suck up his hot tongue so needily, so hard that it was almost difficult to tonguefuck you into insanity. Half-lucidly, you wondered whether his jaw wasn’t tired, tongue cramping up.
And honestly Toji could stay here on his knees for hours, just teasing you with his tongue - but no, there was something else more important.
“Shit- Toji, m’close m’-”
Without another word, he’s pulling away. Disappointment quickly turning into anticipation at the sheer sight of his face glossed so prettily with your juices, messy and dripping all the way down his chin. You gulp as Toji swipes his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you.
“You’re welcome, I cleaned up your act.” His fist wraps around his still-achingly hard cock, eyes locked on you like a predator cornering his prey, “Now s’time f’me to mess it all up again.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Impatient!
“My love,” he whispers against your ear, barely audible above the bustling office party. One hand reaching down oh-so-covertly to cup your ass against that sinfully thin dress. “If I don’t fuck you right now, I think I might just fuckin’ lose it.”
Oh.
Which is how you found yourself shoved against the wall of the nearest bathroom, the tile cool against your skin. Barely even fully inside before Nanami - desperate and already fumbling with his belt - is swiftly locking the door.
“K-Kento- ah-” you gasp, the words dying in your throat as he shoves your dress up. Bothering just enough to pull aside your panties before spitting on your poor pussy from behind. Once. Twice. Missing on purpose to let a steady stream of saliva and slick trail filthily down your quivering thighs. “People are gonna- hah- wonder…”
God, your head was spinning - Nanami was so fucking filthy right now, all sloppy desperation where he was usually suave kisses, playing you like a fine instrument during sex.
“Let them.” he groans against your ear. Smearing his spit all over your pussy, toying with you in a way that was so maddening. “I jus’ need you right- fuck, right now. Jus’ relax f’me, darling.”
You scoff, both as impatient and needy as you were confused. “Kento, you ngh- drag me out here and tell me to relax?” Clenching so desperately around nothing as he drags his swollen tip up and down your folds, sliding it so lewdly in-between. “Why don’t you just fuck me alre-”
Because the words are barely out of your mouth before he’s pushing in, inching inside just slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt his pretty girl.
“Oh! Shit- ah fuck fuck. S’too- ngh” you can barely form coherent sentences at just the stretch.
“Big?” he’s huffing out a laugh as you keen at the stretch, as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. “Y’can take it, I know- you can-”
Thrusting only in quick, shallow little jabs of his hips, like he was trying to stop some utterly depraved part of himself from fucking into your cute pussy until you were screaming his name. Not even wanting to give you time to adjust because shit he needed this- wanted this so bad-
Smack!
A hand comes down on the wall just inches away from your head, like a desperate attempt to collect himself.
“Mmm- Kento.” you groan, drunk off the way he was filling you up so good. Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in. wanting more. Veins pulsing against your walls in a dizzying thump! thump! thump! to which your sanity was slowly dancing away from you.
“Y-yes?”
You turn around to bat your lashes at him, “Just fuck me the way I know you want to.”
It’s like something snapped - maybe Nanami’s restraint, maybe his sanity, definitely you by the end of this.
“Well then,” he hums, dangerously low. Looping two strong arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising. “What m’girl wants, she’s gonna-” Immediately reeling his hips back all the way till his weeping tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “-get.”
And God Nanami might be pussydrunk out of his mind, but whatever was left of that rational part of his mind had him shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Muffling the delicious little moan that rips from your throat as he finally bottoms out.
Stretching you to insanity, heavy balls smacking your ass so hard you were sure it would leave marks.
“Y’know, thank fuck for Higuruma. Didn’t think you’d be taking it like such a little slut in the bathroom if he hadn’t slipped me that chocolate.” Not even giving you the time adjust before he was ramming his cock into you, whispering in your ear in such a mean little tone. “Better be thankful now, since m’going easy on you-”
A shiver runs down your spine - maybe at his words, maybe at the way he was fucking you liked he hated you. Not even letting you breathe with the way he had his hips smacking yours, tip kissing your cervix, fingers poised on your throbbing clit.
Ready to break - to ruin you.
“-because we haven’t even gotten home, yet.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - "Shut up and cum."
“It’s probably not even that bad, right?”
Oh, you shouldn’t have said that - you really, really shouldn’t have said that.
Because now, not only was Geto Suguru reeling from the after-effects of swallowing some damned lust curse - he was also going to make you bear the brunt of it. And the words have barely left your mouth before he’s pushing you onto the nearest flat surface - eyes dazed, hair untied, looking miles away as he all but rips off your shorts and drenched panties with it.
Whispering hotly against your ear, “You’re going to fucking regret that.”
That was over an hour ago. Probably, you were too far gone to keep track of the time at this point.
Because what you certainly didn’t expect was to still have Geto buried in your poor, abused cunt, ramming into you from behind like a fucking animal. So hard you were sure it left marks - your thighs on his, his balls on your ass, fingers on your hips.
So debauched and merciless that all you can do is let out a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! each time his angry tip kisses your cervix. Words cracking as you manage to get out, “S-Sugu-”
“Shut up.” Voice so jagged and hoarse that it takes you a second to realize that it’s your boyfriend. Hips only getting sloppier as he speeds up - his only response.
You were getting fucked by your boyfriend - but it didn’t feel like your boyfriend. Just a madman out to ruin your ravaged pussy. He’s been teasing you this whole time - toying with your pretty pussy like his favorite fucktoy. Always stopping just when you were about to cum. Driving you mad so torturously slow.
“But Sugu~” you yelp, and he gives your ass a sharp smack. A warning - but you still plow on, hoping to speak some sense back into the man. “A-all I said was-”
“Didn’t I fucking tell you to shut up?”
Honestly, Geto doesn’t even know why he’s mad - he loves you. He loves when you talk. He loves when you’re all needy for him. But it’s just that his cock was so hard it felt like he was about to fucking explode - and that there was no better cure for that than seeing you all breathless and crying to cum.
Is he being a bully? Yeah. Does it make his balls squeeze so painfully hard watching you try and play with your pretty clit? Only for him to smack your hand away? Fuck yeah.
Which is why he can’t take his eyes off the heavenly sight of you spread so shamefully, sloppy and wet enough that you’re dripping all over him. Face scrunched into such an adorable pout while he massages your plushy walls, trying to milk something delicious..
So fucking pretty. It almost makes him wanna play nice.
“A-all ya gotta do- ngh-” you were milking him so good it was almost impossible for Geto to form coherent sentences. “-is shut up and take it. S’that so hard? Hah-” Hips are erratic now, fucking any and every thought out of your mind. “Running your mouth for what? Just lemme take care of you, gorgeous.”
It’s all you can do to not sob in desperation, hips grinding down traitorously on his cock in an attempt to meet his merciless cadence. You don’t even have to think about it - just some primal, pathetic part of yourself trying to get off.
Surprisingly, Geto lets you - maybe he’s reached his limit, too.
Because he’s letting you reach out an angle his hips, nails digging into his slutty waist. Just trying to fuck yourself deeper. Harder - the way you knew would have him hitting just the right spots that have you-
He’s stopped.
“Now now, what did I say?” Geto’s tutting mockingly, lips curling into such a cruel little smile. And when he looks down at you, you don’t know whether it’s the aphrodisiac or that sadistic little part of himself taking over. Lips ghosting so gently over yours, “If you’re that impatient then make the both of us cum. Now. Or you’re not cumming at all.”
Oh. He definitely hasn’t reached his limit - and you think he won’t stop until he’s broken yours.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Not enough (never is)
“Please, baby.” Choso lets out a broken little grunt, milking his base tighter. Back arching off the bed each time his fist flies up and down his swollen cock, “C-can’t hah- cum without you.”
God, fuck you and your secret “special chocolate” stash.
Well, Choso wishes he could fuck you right now, because only one bite of that little pink chocolate that he’d found all the way in the back of the refrigerator and that’s all he could think about.
So here he was - pants thrown across the room, boxers shoved down to his ankles. One hand wrapped around his cock, the other trying to muffle those pathetic moans leaving him each time he came at the thought of you. You, looking so unfairly pretty, flashing him that sultry smile before you left for work. You, how much better you’d look on your knees with that smile wrapped around his cock. Looking up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around him - oh, how badly he just wants to steal you away from your workplace.
Trying so desperately to chase- which orgasm was it this time? He didn’t even know, doesn’t even think his fried brain could count right now.
Ah, who gives a shit - Choso just can’t help himself, okay? It wasn’t enough. Never will be - he could cum at just the thought of you over and over again until he physically couldn’t anymore.
“Shit.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. “Wan’ your ngh- sweet lips w-wrapped around me.”
“Is that so, Cho?”
Your thighs squeeze together at the way Choso twitches so sensitively in his hands just at the sound of your voice. So red and so so angry, hard enough that you wondered whether it was painful. Eyeing everything from the way he was sprawled so pretty across your bed, a delicate flush spreading all over his body. Fist stalling - but still not stopping - at the sight of you.
Your boyfriend manages to grit out, hips stuttering as he fucks his fist faster and faster, chest heaving, eyes locked on you. “Y-you’re early?”
“Mhm. Seems you’ve been busy?” you purr, walking ever-so-slowly into the heady room. Giving him a big, pouty look you knew he’d like. “Without me?”
And oh he lets out a broken moan of your name. Only getting sloppier - precum glistening all the way down his wrist, erratic with no rhythm like he was desperate to fuck something so delicious out. Something you really wanted to see.
“Ngh- didn’t mean to, baby.” But he didn’t mean it, too focused on the way you were walking so agonizingly slowly towards him. “C-couldn’t stop mm- thinking of you.”
Ah, Choso was so pretty - delicate tears streaming down his face, cheeks flushed, hair undone. So overstimulated and needy that you just couldn’t not tease him. Just a little bit.
“Guess you snuck into my secret stash, huh?” You get down on your knees between those thick, muscled thighs, running your hands up and down his milky skin. “What do we say then, Cho?”
He’s letting out a throaty moan of your name, balls squeezing so fucking painfully at the heavenly below him. What he’s wanted for so long.
So pathetically needy the way he inches his aching cock closer, precum dripping down your tongue, sliding all the way down your throat. Drip! Drip! Drip! So sweet and addictive - but still not giving into what he wanted so badly. “S-sorry-”
“Louder.”
“M’sorry- hngh- baby.”
“Then cum, f’me, Cho. All over m’face.”
And with that, Choso’s painting your pretty face white with him cum. Untouched. At the mere sight of you on your knees. So fucking messy with the way he was pumping out thick, hot cum. Rope after rope on your tongue - so hard and violent as if he hadn’t spent the last hour cumming all over his fist.
Because shit nothing was better than seeing you suck him dry, swallowing every drop like you couldn’t get enough. Especially when you’re letting his seed drip all the way down your chin, looking up at him with delirious, cockdrunk eyes as you spit on his length. Once. Twice.
Palms smearing the saliva and cum along his throbbing length. Making him feel so fucking dirty as you give his pretty pink tip a chaste kiss. Swirling your tongue under the slit just the way he’d done before.
Letting out a muffled little, “Started without me n’ I think you gotta pay the price, hm?”
Yeah, it’ll never be enough with you.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy girl
“Out.”
At first, everyone froze.
It wasn’t unusual for the king of curses to rasp out a command, let alone tell everyone in his throne room to leave. But it was the way he said it - like he’d fucking snap anyone’s neck if they didn’t. And only one look at you - standing doe-eyed and uncertain at the doorway, thighs quivering ever-so-slightly - had everyone running out the room before Sukuna decided to wipe them out. Or worse.
“Kuna…” you huff, shuffling to sit so prettily on his lap once you two were left alone. Nuzzling the crook of his neck, “Missed you.”
Ah, he loved you like this.
You feel Sukuna’s muscled chest rumble with a laugh, pushing you to rest against his pecs as large hands come to rest on your ass. Squeezing and kneading with no care for any marks. “Is that all, brat?” He hums lazily, rocking your hips lazily right where his twitching cock was. “Cuz I can feel how wet that lil’ pussy is n’ I think she has something to tell me.”
And it was true - God, you were so needy and dripping all over Sukuna’s lap. Grinding your hips deliriously to meet his, not even realizing those broken little whimpers leaving your mouth. Shit, you were so far gone. And he knew that.
“I-” you choke, feeling Sukuna’s cock swelling and hardening beneath your throbbing pussy. “...might’ve snuck into the kitchens. Uraume gave me some chocolate and I’ve been feeling so weird ever since.”
Oh, you were so cute. Big fat tears clinging to your lashes while you humped him like a bitch in heat - Sukuna just can’t stop himself from pulling aside your drenched panties. In awe at the way the flimsy fabric barely did anything to hide your pretty cunt, sticky and glistening so sloppily.
“That explains it.”
Rip!
And it’s all that’s said before Sukuna is just tearing your poor panties off, looping it around your neck to pull you closer with it.
Losing his patience with each pathetic little whine spilling from your lips, the way he could feel your pulse around. So delicate and urgent. The way just one tight pull could have you gasping breathlessly.
“My pretty baby was needy, huh?” he chuckles, breath hot against your skin. Letting out a cruel laugh as he thumbs your swollen folds open, circling ÿour sopping hole, “Tell me.” Biting down your neck, “What do you want to do about it, brat?”
You bat your lashes up at him, fabric tightening around your neck. “Wan’ your cock, Kuna.”
Sukuna didn’t have to be asked twice - because what his cute lil’ human wants, she’ll get. And before you can even react, he’s shifting around his robe just enough for his cock to spring free. Already soaked with precum - or maybe that was your slick.
And shit it doesn’t take him even a second to stuff your tight cunt so full. Have you keening at the sheer stretch as he fucks you in shallow, mindless little grinds to squeeze himself inside your plushy walls. Desperate.
Because Sukuna was big, so big that you never got used to that no matter how many times he played with your pretty pussy. Used to a few tears, a few lil’ whines of “S’too big, Kuna!”.
But, now, you were sucking him up so well. Milking his thick cock so well with no preparation, head thrown back and fucking yourself in mindless little bounces to meet his. Like the perfect little slut that Sukuna knew you were.
Sukuna’s mouth drops into a soft little oh! at how quick he bottoms out - the fastest he ever has. You were taking him so good into your sloppy pussy.
Shit, did you even know what you were doing?
“F-fuck, maybe you should have those chocolates more often, huh?” Sukuna mutters with a strange sort of reverence.
Of course, the only response he gets is an incoherent little babble of something - something that went straight to his heavy balls. Too busy with fucking yourself onto his thick cock, already buried so deep inside you, but still pushing relentlessly.
Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs. So good but still not enough - still trying to take him deeper. Faster. Needing this more and more by the second.
“C’mon now.” he muses, fucking his hips to meet your filthy cadence, grip tightening around your panties, a signal to answer. And you gasp - both for air and because you feel like you’re literally burning from the inside.
“Ah- fuck fuck fuck I- wan’” Nails raking down his shoulder, messily kissing his lips. A desperate attempt to try and tell him what you really want - and he understands. Of course, he does. “Please.”
Which is probably why Sukuna’s laughing at your pathetic state. Too cockdrunk to speak, huh? Spreading your thighs even farther, so much so that it burned. Hands so bruisingly tight on your hips.
“Ya did well, brat.” he grins, “Now, let me be the one to take care of you.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - Won’t get out alive
“Sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck, please- M’gonna-” Gojo doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before he’s spilling all over you hand. Milking his aching cock as he keeps cumming and cumming so much that you wondered whether he’s okay - whether he’d make it out alive, even.
“This is all because of your own stupidity.” you grumble, but still letting him fuck your first through his high - for the nth time today. Hands much smaller and softer than his - shit, was he glad he teleported to your apartment in the middle of class for this.
And as Gojo blinks back his vision, heaving to regain his breath, his orgasm-addled brain finds it in himself to mutter out a pouty little, “S’not my fault.”
You’re so irritated by him and his stupidity that you pay no mind to the way he’s playing with the hem of your panties, fingers sliding so sneakily underneath. Huffing out a sulky, “I’m serious, Toru. If the elders find out then-”
“Then they can suck my dick.” your boyfriend cuts you off oh-so eloquently. Much more interested in just how sinfully drenched your panties were, all messy and sticking to your swollen folds. “But I’d rather this pretty pussy take care of me before that.”
That’s all that is said before Gojo’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning when you clamp down on him so deliciously. God, he was so sensitive he could cum from just this. Hell, maybe he does, a creamy little ring of white forming at the base as he keeps pushing in. Inch by fucking inch.
And he doesn’t stop - can’t stop - until you’re all the way flush against those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.
Gasping breathlessly at the hands all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your face - just everywhere because Gojo just can’t get enough of you. Especially when he’s so needy and desperate like this.
“Who let himself hah- g-get hit with a fucking aphrodisiac technique? On purpose?”
Your tone makes him flinch - and for his swollen cock to start twitching so dangerously exhaustedly inside you. So addictively that Gojo can’t even wait too long for you to adjust. Starting up quick, jagged thrusts into your snug pussy. Grinning quietly, “Whoopsies.”
“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Y-you deserve to suffer the consequences alone, you dumbass.” you scold, tightening your legs around him. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace - thumbing your swollen clit, like a little apology.
“I know.” he hums into your skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of you he could reach. Gasping at the sheer overstimulation. It hurt so good. “Don’ deserve you.”
“That’s not what I-”
Gojo shuts you up with one, harsh thrust. One that knocks all the air out of your lungs and has you worrying whether he’s pushing his massive cock into your organs. You can only take it as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over and-
“Don’t deserve this heavenly pussy-” getting sloppier now, no rhyme or rhythm. Licking long, languid stripes up your neck. “Don’t deserve those cute lil’ moans, either. Or the way you put up with me.”
Fingers getting frenzied on your clit now - the way they did when he was getting close. Moving in sloppy little patterns that were so eager to get you off.
Broken little profanities leaving him every time his hips stutter inside of you. Too much to handle at this point that Gojo thinks he might just explode.
And then finally, he’s pulling away. So fucking sensitive and overstimulated that tears cling to his long lashes, delicately flushed all the way from the tips of his ears down, down, down to where you couldn’t see. Lips so pretty and pink as they say, “But don’t you think for a second that m’gonna let you go, sweetheart.”
“Cum f’me, Toru.”
And Gojo’s so far-gone that he doesn’t realize when he is - pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your poor pussy with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name.
Filling you up to the brim like he’d just been waiting for permission. Too proud, too fucking embarrassed to show off this vulnerable little side of himself that was gasping and clawing breathlessly at you. Eyes screwing shut, head thrown back, holding on for some semblance of sanity as he cums harder than he has his entire life.
Babbling out barely-lucid moans of how he’s gonna “get payback for making him cum early” and “make you cum double next time”.
Promises he well and fully intended to fulfill - if the way his cock was still twitching so ferally inside you was anything to go by. Hips fucking up deliriously - strained, like it hurt but he just had to. Like he couldn’t just not fuck your pretty lil’ pussy. Desperately starting up a pace that made you wonder - yeah, he was going to be the death of you.
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Disturbing the Peace
Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics
Max Verstappen x Vettel!Reader
Summary: an environmental activist disturbs the carefully constructed peace of Max’s life and turns his whole world on its head (or in which environmentalism and being a menace both run in the Vettel family)
Max strides across the tarmac towards his sleek private jet, ready to head up to the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes after a weekend of relaxation back home in Monaco. But he stops short as his eyes land on a cluster of protesters glued to the ground around his jet’s landing gear.
A gruff security guard approaches Max. “Sorry sir, we’ve got a bit of a situation here with these Greenpeace loons. They snuck past the perimeter and glued themselves down before we could stop them.”
Max scowls as he reads the words Fossil Fuels = Destruction scrawled across one of the protester’s shirts. He storms over, fists clenched at his sides.
“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?” he fumes, glaring at the seated activists. “You realize you’re costing me tens of thousands just by delaying my flight?”
“That’s kind of the point, bro,” one long-haired guy shoots back with a snide grin. “You’re one of the worst celebrity polluters on the planet.”
But Max’s gaze is drawn irresistibly to you — a beautiful young woman with fierce eyes and hair whipping around your face in the coastal wind. There’s an intensity and passion burning behind your stare that Max finds himself unexpectedly captivated by.
You rise gracefully to your feet, the only one not glued down, and take a step towards the fuming Formula 1 star. “Max Verstappen. Out of all celebrities last year, you were the 20th highest personal polluter. Even higher than Taylor Swift.”
There’s an unmistakable blend of reproach and attraction in your tone that throws Max off balance. He scoffs, trying to regain his bravado.
“What, are you stalking me or something? And I’m supposed to care what some random activist chick thinks?”
You level him with a pointed look. “Not some random chick. Y/N Vettel. Sebastian’s sister. And yes, you should care, because this is your planet too.”
Max blinks in surprise at the familiar surname, now recognizing the resemblance to his former competitor.
Oh fuck, not this girl.
He can’t resist giving you another once-over, taking in your lithe frame, the jut of your chin as you stare him down defiantly.
An amused smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. “Vettel, huh? I should’ve known. You two do have a thing for causing drama wherever you go.”
The dig lands but you don’t rise to the bait, shaking your head minutely. “This has nothing to do with drama, Max. It’s about doing what’s right for the environment before it’s too late to save it.”
“Oh, spare me the self-righteous preaching,” Max scoffs, reflexively going on the defensive even as a small part of him admires the conviction in your voice. “Like your jet-setting around to protest events is really doing the planet any favors.”
You raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Jet-setting? I take public transit everywhere. Planes are the exception for international events, and I always buy carbon offsets.”
Max feels a flicker of grudging respect at that before quickly stamping it down. He folds his arms across his chest, fixing you with a challenging stare. “Yeah? Well what about your clothes? I’m guessing that shirt was made from petroleum-based synthetic fabrics.”
A look of surprise crosses your face before you recover with a small shake of your head. “It’s actually bamboo. Petroleum-free and sustainably sourced.”
“Your shoes then,” Max presses, gaze dropping to the canvas flats on your feet.
You lift one demonstratively. “Recycled rubber.”
His eyes narrow as he struggles to find another example to poke holes in your lifestyle. You watch him search with ill-disguised amusement, finally taking pity.
“Listen Max, I’m not saying I’m perfect. Nobody is. The point is to keep trying to do better where we can.” Your eyes hold sincerity and — though Max is loath to admit it — wisdom beyond your years. “But you’re in a position of power. With all your money and influence, just think what you could do for sustainability initiatives. How many trees you could plant or clean energy projects you could fund with just a fraction of what you spend on private flights and gas-guzzling supercars every year.”
Max shifts, discomfited by the practicality of your words. It’s harder to be glib and dismissive when you’re not ranting incoherently about the planet dying, but making reasoned arguments. Especially with that intense, scrutinizing gaze fixed so squarely on him.
He clears his throat, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “Yeah, that’s cute and all. But then who would keep all those gas station attendants employed? I’m doing them a public service, really.”
The ghost of a smirk curves your lips in a way that makes Max’s chest tighten unexpectedly. “How very philanthropic of you.”
He has to look away from the spark of challenge and — yes, flirtation — in your expression. Max isn’t sure when this stopped being a confrontation and turned into some sort of tense back-and-forth bristling with inexplicable chemistry, but it’s rapidly becoming unnerving.
Seeming to sense you’ve flustered him, you lean in conspiratorially. “You know Max, for someone who acts like such an edgy bad boy, you’re not so tough. I think deep down you know I’m right.”
Max’s jaw ticks stubbornly even as his cheeks burn at your proximity, at the sweet floral scent of your shampoo drifting across the scant distance between you. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
In a daring move, you reach out and lay a hand on his arm. His breath hitches just slightly at the contact as you hold his gaze intently. “Then help me understand. Join me for dinner sometime and we can talk more about this over something other than just shouting at each other.”
The gentle touch, combined with the sincerity shining warmly through those big widened eyes, takes Max completely off guard. He opens his mouth, then closes it, abruptly unsure how to respond to such an olive branch extended from his vehement critic just moments ago.
Before he can formulate a reply, the wail of sirens pierces the air. A police cruiser pulls up as four officers jump out, advancing menacingly towards your compatriots still glued to the pavement.
“Alright, that’s enough here,” the barrel-chested sergeant barks gruffly. “You’re all under arrest for criminal trespassing and failure to obey airport security.”
You hurriedly step between the officers and your fellow protesters, palms raised placatingly. “Please officers, don’t arrest them! I was the one who orchestrated this, I’ll go quietly. Just let them go.”
Max’s heart does a strange little flutter at the selfless gesture, at the protective way you shield your group from the aggression of the snarling police officers.
Before he can think better of it, he’s striding forward and planting himself at your side, a steadying hand on your arm. “Actually officers, I’m afraid I can’t let you detain this woman.”
You blink up at him in surprise. The lead sergeant looks far from impressed, folding his beefy arms across his chest.
“And just who the hell are you to make that call?”
Max lifts his chin defiantly. “Max Verstappen. I’m sure your supervisors would love to hear how the biggest name in racing got falsely arrested on the tarmac because one of their officers couldn’t exercise some restraint.”
The sergeant’s eyes widen almost comically and he takes an unconscious step back, disarmed by Max’s threat to leverage his fame and money. “Oh. Er … Mr. Verstappen, sir. I’m sure, um, we can sort this out ...”
Max cuts him off with an imperious wave, turning his attention fully to you. Your expression is a mixture of shock, curiosity, and — though Max certainly doesn’t dare name it — just maybe a tiny flicker of attraction in return.
“You asked me to try and understand your perspective. Fine, I’ll take you up on that dinner.” He looks you squarely in the eye, expression unreadable. “But you have to promise to hear me out too. No judgements, no protests. Just two people trying to figure out how to make the world better in their own ways.”
You stare searchingly at him for a prolonged moment. Then a slow, wondering smile spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes in the most disarmingly beautiful way. You give a small nod.
“Deal. I’ll keep an open mind if you do.”
Max finds himself returning the smile before he can stop himself. “Deal.”
He doesn’t know why this odd, passionate woman has gotten under his skin so quickly. Or why he suddenly cares what some environmental activist thinks of his choices. But as you take his proffered hand and he helps you step carefully away from the cluster of protestors, Max feels an unfamiliar stirring of hope. Maybe there’s more to this situation — and to you — than meets the eye.
The sergeant looks between you two skeptically, but seems to think better of pressing the issue further with Max’s steely gaze trained on him. With a resigned sigh, he waves his officers back.
“Alright, we’re going to let this one go. But I better not catch you trespassing and causing problems again, you hear?” He jabs a meaty finger at you in warning.
You just smile serenely, still not releasing Max’s hand. “No worries, officer. I have a dinner to get ready for.”
As the police pull away, you turn that brilliant grin on Max again. He finds himself returning it almost against his will, captivated by the fire that dances behind your eyes. For the first time, he wonders if going toe-to-toe with an idealistic environmental warrior might actually be worth momentarily putting his own deeply-held beliefs aside.
Stepping in close, you surprise him by leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Thanks for playing along back there. I owe you one, Max Verstappen.”
The warm breath tickling his neck sends an unexpected shiver down his spine. You pull back with a mischievous wink before turning and rejoining your fellow activists, hips swaying in a tantalizing way that has Max’s gaze lingering perhaps a moment too long.
As he watches you go, Max can’t shake the strangest sense that he’s suddenly entered uncharted territory. And that this is only the beginning of you continually barging into his life and turning everything deliciously upside down.
***
Max lets out a grunt as he heaves the heavy barbell up over his head, sweat beading on his brow from the intense weight training session. After securing the bar back on its rack, he straightens and grabs a towel to wipe his face.
His phone starts ringing from across the room, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Max debates letting it go to voicemail but finally relents with a resigned sigh, scooping up the device.
“Yeah, hello?”
There’s a brief silence before an automated voice responds. “This is a call from a corrections facility. To accept charges and connect this call, press 1.”
Max frowns, caught off guard. He presses 1 warily, curiosity getting the better of him. The line clicks and then a new, very familiar voice comes through.
“Max! Oh thank god you picked up.” It’s you, sounding mildly frazzled but still unmistakably your unique blend of passion and composure.
A surprised laugh escapes Max’s lips before he can stop it. “You? Calling me from jail? This I’ve got to hear.”
“Don’t sound so delighted,” you chide, though he can hear the smile in your voice. “Yes, I’m in a bit of a situation here. You remember the big event we had been planning to protest that oil baron’s ridiculous superyacht docking in Monaco?”
Max raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it. “The one where you said, and I quote, ‘No Max, you can’t come. Your pouty little rich boy face is just going to distract everyone from the real injustice we’re protesting here.’“
“... Yes, that one.” You don’t miss a beat. “Well, we may have taken things a step too far. The police showed up and arrested all of us for trespassing and disturbing the peace.”
“You don’t say?” Max leans back against the weight bench, a teasing lilt to his voice. “So let me get this straight — you got yourself chucked in the slammer for causing your signature environmentalist dramatics, and now you’re calling me to help get you out?”
There’s a slight pause before you respond, tone turning softer. “I didn’t want to call Seb. You know how he gets — he’ll just give me that disappointed head shake and lecture about being more responsible. Acting like I’m still a reckless teenager instead of a grown woman fighting for a noble cause.”
Max feels a small pang at the uncharacteristic wistfulness in your voice. For all your sparring back and forth, he knows how much your activist work means to you. And how tirelessly you dedicate yourself to it, often at the expense of other aspects of life.
Chewing his lip, he considers his next words carefully. “I may give you endless shit about being a tree-hugging rebel without a cause, but you know I actually respect what you’re doing, right? Even if your methods are … shall we say, dramatic.”
You let out a small surprised huff of laughter at that. “Did Max Verstappen just pay me something resembling a genuine compliment? Aww, you really do care.”
Max rolls his eyes at the teasing, though his lips quirk in a reluctant smile. Something about your back-and-forth banter has a way of putting him at ease in a way he doesn’t quite understand.
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still holding out hope this is just a pesky phase before you eventually come to your senses and realize the error of your ways.”
“Fat chance, hot shot.” The warm amusement in your tone is impossible to miss. “But anyway, since you’re in such a generous mood — think you can do me a favor and come bail me out?”
Max hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, bringing you home with me seems like a surefire way to get your activist cooties all over my ridiculously expensive non-vegan furniture.”
“Max ...” You let out an exaggerated whine that has him fighting back another grin. “Come on, I’m begging you here! I’ll be a model prisoner, I swear.”
Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Max pushes off from the bench and starts grabbing his shoes and keys. “Fine, fine. Twist my arm, why don’t you? I’ll be there in twenty minutes to ply your jailers with my generous pile of my money and spring you from the clink.”
You let out a squeal of delight that has his heart doing an odd little flip despite himself. “You’re the best, Max! Seriously, I owe you huge after this.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to make a habit of it. This is a one-time kind of deal.”
The two of you say your brief goodbyes and Max hangs up, head shaking in bemusement. He’s not sure when his friendship with the passionate eco-warrior became so effortlessly comfortable, bantering back and forth like a long-married couple.
But he also can’t deny the way his pulse kicks up just slightly at the thought of seeing you again — windswept hair, fiery eyes, and that bright smile that still catches him off guard every time it’s directed his way.
As Max jogs out to the garage to grab his Ferrari for the short drive to the station, he vehemently tells himself it’s merely because he’s intrigued by the novelty of your clashing personalities. That your relentless conviction is a fascinating change of pace from the empty glamor that usually surrounds him.
But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers that he’s lying to himself. That there’s something magnetically addictive about you and your tireless ability to see the world through a different lens than his own. Something that challenges him, stimulates him, reels him in over and over again no matter how much he pretends to resist.
He quickly banishes the thought, jaw setting in stubborn determination. Max Verstappen isn’t the type to get pulled into a girl’s orbit, no matter how intriguing she might seem on the surface. He’ll bail your reckless ass out of jail, have another enjoyable round of opposition-attracts banter, and then carry on with his usual life of racing and living by his own well-established rules.
Right?
The sleek crimson SF90 Stradale tears through the winding Monaco streets, wind whipping through Max’s hair as he pushes the pedal towards the floor. The adrenaline pumping through his veins feels vaguely familiar to the thrill of a heated race — though he refuses to dwell too deeply on why bailing out an eco-terrorist gives him that same edge-of-the-seat excitement.
He pulls up to the modest local jail in record time, the guard at the entrance giving him a skeptical once-over before waving him through. No doubt recognizing the signature Ferrari and flashy persona of the championship-winning driver.
Max swaggers up to the front desk where a bored-looking officer sits shuffling through paperwork. The young man startles at his approach, shooting to attention with widened eyes.
“Oh! Mr. Verstappen, sir! How can I help you today?”
Puffing out his chest just slightly, Max gives the officer his most imposing stare. “Yeah, I’m here to post bail for one of your … residents. Y/N Vettel.”
The cop’s brow furrows as he scans the intake files. “Ah yes, here she is. Environmental activist, part of that big protest at the marina. Disturbing the peace, trespassing, and a few of them even got hit with property damage charges from graffiti.”
Max scowls, that damned protective streak rearing its ugly head again before he can stop it. “I’m only posting bail for Y/N Vettel. The hell did she get charged with?”
“Just peaceful trespassing and disturbing the peace.” The cop frowns contemplatively. “Well, and resisting arrest when she tried to stop us cuffing one of her friends. But that’s about it.”
Rubbing his temples with a pained sigh, Max can’t resist a rueful grin. “Yeah, that tracks. Listen, what’s it gonna cost me to grab her so I can get out of here?”
“For those charges? €1500 bond should cover it.”
Max scoffs at the paltry sum, already pulling out his monogrammed money clip and peeling off a stack of euros. “Whatever, here’s double. Keep the change for your trouble.”
The cop’s eyes widen almost comically, but he knows better than to question Max freaking Verstappen. Hurriedly taking the bills, he produces some paperwork for Max to sign and process the transaction.
“Alright Mr. Verstappen, just need your signature here and here. And if you’ll allow me to get your fingerprints as well for the release forms ...”
Max begrudgingly complies, wanting to get this circus over with as quickly as possible. He taps his foot impatiently as the officer takes his prints and finalizes everything in the computer system.
“Okay, all set. I’ll have one of the guards bring Miss Vettel around to the release lobby. Might be a few minutes.”
“Yeah, yeah, just hurry it up,” Max mutters distractedly.
He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut for a brief moment as he tries to compose himself. Your voice rings in his ears, that unmistakable mixture of sheepishness and determination that seems to sum up your entire persona.
Goddamn it, why did you have to call him? Why couldn’t you have just phoned up your doting big brother like a normal person instead of dragging Max into this? Part of him wants to be annoyed at how easily you’re able to play him, batting those big eyes and pleading for his help like you knew he would give in.
But the thought of leaving you to stew in a dingy jail cell somehow makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Almost like he’d be letting you down in some weird, convoluted way. Ridiculous as the notion is, Max can’t deny this increasing pull you seem to have over him.
His eyes fly open as the door to the cellblocks finally opens, heavy footsteps approaching. Max takes an automatic step forward, pulse kicking up in anticipation despite himself.
And then you’re there. Hair tousled, t-shirt and jeans covered in smears of dirt and grass stains from the protest scuffle. But those defiant eyes are still ablaze, jaw set stubbornly as the guard leads you out in handcuffs.
“Max! You’re actually here!” Your face splits into a bright, surprised grin at the sight of him.
He tries and fails to suppress his own answering smile, raking an admittedly appreciative gaze over you from head to toe. “What, you didn’t think I’d show up for my favorite little jailbird?”
Shrugging nonchalantly, you flash him a sly look from under your lashes. “I don’t know, I had my doubts Mr. Bigshot Racer would sully his palms rescuing little old me.”
“Well, you know what they say.” Max steps in close, dropping his voice to a faux-seductive murmur as he leans towards you. Your eyes widen infinitesimally but you hold his gaze, seemingly transfixed. “I just can’t seem to quit you.”
You bite your lip in a badly suppressed grin at his corny line. “Did you seriously just incorrectly quote Brokeback Mountain at me right now?”
“Maybe.” He rocks back on his heels with a shameless wink. “Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”
A delicate blush blooms across your cheeks in a way that has Max’s heart stuttering unexpectedly. The guard clears his throat loudly, shattering the moment between you.
“Erm, right. If you’ll just sign here for Miss Vettel’s release ...” He offers a clipboard to Max.
Tearing his eyes away from you with concentrated effort, Max scrawls his signature across the form. You watch him intently, an unreadable look flickering across your features for just a moment before the guard undoes your cuffs with a loud click.
You immediately bring your newly freed hands together, rubbing at the chafed skin of your wrists gingerly. Max’s jaw tightens at the sight.
“You good?” His tone is gruff with concern despite himself.
Glancing up, you give him a reassuring smile and nod. “All good, just a little tender. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
Something about your easy dismissal of the discomfort rankles Max in a way he can’t fully explain. Like he wants to grab your hands, bring them to his lips to inspect the damage more closely. The sudden urge catches him off guard and he quickly tamps it down, fists clenching at his sides.
The guard seems oblivious to the undercurrent between you, simply giving a curt nod and motioning towards the exit. “Right then, off you go. And try to stay out of trouble from now on, Miss Vettel.”
You shoot the cop your signature wry grin. “No promises, officer.”
Rolling his eyes skyward, Max grabs your elbow lightly and ushers you towards the doors before you can cause any more scenes. You fall into step beside him easily, shoulders brushing in a way that has his skin tingling with awareness.
As the two of you step out into the late afternoon sunlight, you turn to him with those warm eyes that never fail to set his heart racing just a little faster.
“I really do owe you one, Max. Thank you for coming to my rescue, even after everything“
He gives an exaggerated huff, fighting a smile. “Well, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta bail out all the reckless idiots who can’t stay out of handcuffs for five minutes.”
You laugh brightly, punching his arm in playful admonishment. A spark of electricity seems to jolt between you at the contact and Max freezes almost imperceptibly, mesmerized by the radiant smile you’re beaming up at him.
In that moment, with the sunlight catching in your hair and reflecting those fierce, captivating eyes, Max is struck by how breathtakingly beautiful you are. Not just physically, though that’s certainly undeniable. But the whole intoxicating aura of your idealism, your passion, your relentless fighting spirit that leaves him in a constant state of incredulous attraction no matter how much he rails against it.
You cock your head slightly, drawing him out of his reverie. “Max? You still in there?”
“Huh?” He blinks dazedly before recovering with a shake of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets in what he desperately hopes is a casual gesture. “Yeah, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”
Your brow furrows in concern as you study his face intently. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, of course.” Max clears his throat, avoiding your piercing gaze. He nods jerkily towards the car glinting fetchingly in the sun. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they decide to re-arrest your ass for loitering.”
As the two of you make your way across the parking lot, Max resolutely ignores the persistent voice whispering that he’s in deeper than he’s willing to admit this time. That you might just be addictive enough to become something he can’t simply shake off when he’s had his fill.
But rather than finding the notion disconcerting like it should be, he finds himself fighting the strangest flicker of excitement at the prospect instead.
***
The Monaco paddock is a dizzying whirlwind of activity as teams and personnel rush about in their usual pre-race frenzy. Max weaves through the chaos towards his driver room, helmet tucked under his arm.
He pauses as a familiar voice reaches his ears — that unmistakable passionate cadence that always has a way of stopping him in his tracks these days. Max turns to see you holding court in the middle of a cluster of wide-eyed engineers and PR reps, gesticulating emphatically.
“... and that’s just the start! We also need to look into renewable energy sources to power the entire paddock operations. Sustainable cooking practices in the hospitality suites. Comprehensive recycling and composting initiatives. Not to mention overhauling the travel logistics for a lower carbon footprint when we’re shipping this whole circus around the globe every other week.”
One of the hapless reps looks shellshocked, struggling to keep up as he scribbles notes furiously. “I … yes, of course, Miss Vettel. We’ll look into all of that right away. Anything else?”
You fix the poor man with one of your signature intense stares, full lower lip catching between your teeth as you consider. Max feels his heart skip at the seemingly insignificant gesture, cursing under his breath.
“Well, we haven’t even touched on sustainable sourcing for uniforms and merchandising yet. Or the complete overhaul needed for fuel compositions and racing technology to align with a realistic net-zero roadmap.” Your eyes spark with renewed fervor. “But we can circle back on those aspects later. For now I want you to-”
Sensing an opening, the bewildered rep seizes his chance to politely extricate himself. “You know what, Miss Vettel? Why don’t I go gather all my notes on your suggestions so far and we can regroup for a more structured meeting on next steps? I’ll, uh, be in touch!”
He scampers off before you can protest, leaving the rest of the staffers gaping at you with a combination of terror and admiration. You just shake your head bemusedly, rolling your eyes skyward as you catch sight of Max watching from across the way.
“What?” You shrug innocently at his raised eyebrow, the very picture of angelic nonchalance. “Someone’s got to light a fire under these people if we want to actually get some sustainability practices in place.”
Max bites back a grin, sauntering over with exaggerated slowness. “Is that what you call demolishing that poor rep’s entire understanding of the world? Just lighting a fire?”
“Hey, we’re not being paid to settle for complacency and half-measures,” you shoot back without a shred of remorse. “I got hired to shake this whole damn organization to its core until it goes fully carbon neutral. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Your unapologetic defiance never fails to send a peculiar thrill zinging through Max’s veins. He rakes an admittedly assessing gaze over your crisp pantsuit and loosely swept updo — quite a change from the scruffy activist’s getup he’s so used to seeing you in.
“You clean up nice, I’ll give you that,” he muses teasingly. “Who knew you could look so respectable in professional garb?”
Rather than rise to the bait, you simply flash him a wink and smoothing your hands over the fitted blazer, drawing his gaze helplessly to the enticing curves beneath the tailored lines. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”
Heat prickles at the base of Max’s neck at the unexpected flirtiness, his tongue suddenly thick and useless in his mouth. He quickly masks the moment of flustered silence with a dismissive scoff.
“Great, so in addition to harassing race staff you’re assaulting my senses too? Good to know where your priorities lie, Vettel.”
You laugh easily, canting a hip as you fix him with those dancing eyes that never fail to set his heart racing. “If you can’t handle a little playful banter, Verstappen, you’d better get used to keeping your distance now that we’re colleagues for the foreseeable future.”
The words slam into Max with surprising force, hitting a little too close to the bone. Unconsciously, his gaze darts over you in a way that feels far too intimate for mere colleagues. Lingering on the delicate curve of your neck as you tip your head back, the lush pout of your lips, the swaying tendrils of hair escaping your updo which he inexplicably longs to brush back into place.
All at once the reality of your new role truly sinks in — that he’ll be seeing you at every single race from now until god knows when. The thought fills Max with a dizzying blend of elation and trepidation.
On one hand, the prospect of having you perpetually woven through his life in this shiny new professional capacity is enough to make his pulse kick up in giddy anticipation.
But on the other, it terrifies him to his core. You have an uncanny ability to constantly keep him off-balance, as endlessly fascinating as you are maddening. This casual flirtation between you has taken on undercurrents he’s no longer certain he wants to shy away from acknowledging. At least, not when the thought of shutting it down fills Max with a hollow ache he can’t put words to.
He’s pulled from his spiraling reflections as an impeccably dressed older man in a crisp suit materializes at your side, placing a wizened hand on your shoulder.
“Ah, there you are, Miss Vettel! I was just coming to fetch you for our preliminary sustainability council meeting with the rest of the advisory board.” The man’s eyes twinkle with unmistakable approval as he regards you. “Although from the looks of it you’ve already started getting the lay of the land around here and, ah, asserting your new directives shall we say?”
You shoot him a conspiratorial grin, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “Let’s just say I’ve had a productive first day on the job so far, Mr. Haywood. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”
Max recognizes the man as Stephen Haywood, one of the senior F1 board members and the person primarily responsible for bringing you on in this ground-breaking new eco initiative. He chuckles indulgently at your quip.
“That’s exactly what we’re counting on from you, my dear. Ruffling some feathers and dragging this whole operation into the future, come hell or high water. I have the utmost confidence you’re going to revolutionize Formula 1 in ways we can’t even conceive yet.”
You beam at the praise, visibly swelling with determination. Haywood gives your shoulder another squeeze before gesturing down the paddock. “Shall we? We’ve got a long agenda ahead to tackle your big plans.”
“Absolutely,” you say eagerly, turning to follow him. But not before pausing to shoot Max one last heated look from over your shoulder, dropping your voice to a sultry murmur. “Don’t go too far, Verstappen. I’ve still got plenty more to say to you later.”
And with a tantalizing wink, you sashay away after Haywood in that maddeningly hypnotic way that you know reduces Max to an incoherent mess every time. All he can do is gape after your retreating figure, the sway of those hips in that perfectly tailored skirt rendering him utterly useless.
As you disappear around the corner, Max feels the dam inside him finally burst in a torrential flood of overwhelming emotion. Everything suddenly clicks into startling clarity in one shuddering epiphany that leaves him unmoored:
He’s in love with you.
Desperately, all-consumingly, recklessly in love in a way he never saw coming and is wholly unprepared to process. All those months pretending you were just an amusing diversion, a source of intrigue and refreshing friction in his otherwise orderly life. All the times he battled against the obvious chemistry simmering between you, tried to downplay it as mere physical attraction between opposing forces.
But now it washes over Max in one shattering wave of truth — the way his world tilts off-axis whenever you’re around, the gravity of your presence drawing him in against his will. How thoroughly and irrevocably you’ve embedded yourself under his skin without him ever truly realizing it was happening until now.
He grips the wall for support, legs feeling abruptly unsteady as his head spins. How is he supposed to reconcile this revelation? That his heart now lies so completely in the hands of this fierce, untamable woman utterly hellbent on dismantling and revolutionizing his entire life’s work in the name of environmentalism.
The delicious contradictions of having fallen for someone whose core values and purpose seem to exist in such direct opposition to his own are enough to make Max’s head throb dizzily. You are his antithesis in so many ways — that headstrong passion a perpetual thorn in his side, continually pushing and prodding him out of his self-imposed boundaries.
And yet … he couldn’t be more completely enthralled.
It’s that relentless challenging of his beliefs, that refusal to settle for complacency, that has drawn Max in and held him captivated against his will from the very beginning. In you he’s found a riveting counterpoint to the blinkered single-mindedness of his existence, a refreshing perspective that somehow makes him want to be a bigger, better version of himself.
Even now, just the phantom echo of your parting words has him straightening unconsciously, feeling almost chastened and bereft in the wake of your absence. Max has never been one to dwell on his emotions, preferring to analyze and compartmentalize until they’re boxed away into neat, manageable parcels.
But this all-encompassing feeling storming through him in your wake is anything but neat or manageable. It’s wild and catastrophic, crackling with the dangerous intensity of a lightning strike clawing its way across the horizon in slow motion.
Just the thought of looking into those blazing eyes and owning the truth of his feelings for you sends Max into a panic, chest squeezing with anxious breath. You have always seen through his feigned nonchalance, cut straight through to the bone with that penetrating stare. He has no idea how to even begin existing openly in the same space as you without his heart shining through brazenly for the entire world to witness.
His fist clenches against the cold metal of the garage wall as an irrational surge of bitterness lances through him. How dare you just sweep into his rigidly controlled life with all that blistering confidence and conviction, making him feel things he never wanted to feel? Upending his carefully maintained reality without a second thought, all in the name of your damned causes?
You weren’t supposed to get this far under his skin. He was just supposed to have a bit of fun, indulge in your company as a momentary diversion at most. And now Max is in so disastrously deep that he has no idea how to drag himself back out.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there warring with himself, torn between exhilarated possibility and vehement denial. What he does know is that his entire world has been turned upside down. And despite the terror rattling his bones, despite the desperate urge to somehow ignore the sheer enormity of this jolt to his system … he can’t muster the will to try and wrestle back control.
Not when the thrill of finally surrendering to you sends such intoxicating electricity crackling through every fiber of his being.
Max peels himself from the wall with renewed resolve, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to steel himself, because avoiding you is clearly no longer an option. Not when your irresistible pull is only amplified now that you’ll be a near-permanent fixture in his life.
He has to face this head-on, confront the exhilarating chaos you’ve wrought in his carefully cultivated existence. Which means pushing down the churning jumble of emotions rattling around in his ribcage before they become too overwhelming.
“Get a grip, man,” Max mutters sternly to himself, knocking the heel of his palm against his temple as if to physically dislodge his internal storm. “It’s just Vettel. You’ve dealt with her shit-stirring antics a million times before. You can handle this new ... development.”
His words carry neither confidence nor conviction, but Max forges on anyway, straightening his shoulders as he plunges back into the fray of the paddock. If he can just maintain some semblance of outward equilibrium, he can get through this.
One foot in front of the other, he winds past the crowd towards his driver’s room as if in a trance. Any minute now, you’ll saunter back through in that mouthwateringly crisp ensemble, eyes bright with hard-won strategy and single minded intent.
And Max will just … what? Calmly confront you as if his entire understanding of your dynamic hasn’t undergone a seismic fucking shift in the last five minutes?
He barks out a mirthless laugh at the impossibility of such a scenario. Any pretense of indifference has surely been shattered between you now. All his meager attempts at deflecting through banter and heated bickering ring hollow to his own ears after this shattering realization.
No, for better or worse, Max has finally tumbled over that precipice he’d been teetering on for so long when it comes to you. Now more than ever before, he dreads and craves the prospect of your next meeting in equal, searing measure.
Because whether he’s ready or not … whether he thinks he can handle the fallout or not … you’ll be able to read every devastating truth written across his face this time.
When your paths inevitably cross again, Max knows there will be no more hiding from you the shift of feelings you’ve unleashed within him.
This time, he’ll be entirely and terrifyingly laid bare.
***
Three Years Later
The crisp mountain air fills Max’s lungs as he straightens up, wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow with a satisfied smile. The freshly tilled soil stretches before him in neat rows, ready and waiting to nurture the seeds you meticulously selected.
“Nice work, Mein Löwe,” you call approvingly from across the yard, one hand resting on the swell of your pregnant belly. “That plot is going to be perfect for all our veggies.”
Max’s chest warms at the undisguised pride in your voice as you survey his handiwork. Just a few years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of voluntarily getting his hands dirty like this. But ever since that fateful day at the airport … everything has changed.
“Yeah, well, be sure to put me to work weeding and watering too,” he shoots back with an easy grin. “Gotta earn my keep as the cabana boy around here.”
You roll your eyes in playful exasperation even as an affectionate smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll be sure to get you a tiny little outfit.”
The teasing remark might have once pricked Max’s fragile ego. But now he simply shakes his head with a low chuckle, marveling at how natural, how right it feels to be the subject of your gentle ribbing. In the years since that first charged encounter, your barbs have sanded down his prickly edges until only his core of wry tenderness remains.
You cross the yard toward him, sunlight glinting off the tousled tendrils of hair that frame your face. Up close, Max can make out the dark crescent smudges under your eyes from many sleepless nights spent mapping out plans for this property — from the aerogel insulation in the walls to the extensive geothermal heating system to the solar panels spanning the roof.
Most people would have long ago surrendered in exhaustion when presented with building the world’s most environmentally sustainable home from the ground up. But not you. You had steadfastly urged him onward, determined to make this place a paragon of renewable living for your growing family.
His growing family, Max mentally corrects himself with a jolt of surprise that still hasn’t faded, even after all this time.
As if reading his mind, you pause before him, gently taking his calloused hands in yours. “Think you can handle planting all those seedlings tomorrow without me? The back pains are really kicking my ass lately.”
Max’s lips quirk upwards at the feisty lilt to your voice. “Getting a little too old to be bending over in the dirt for hours, liefje?”
“Hey, watch it!” You protest with a laugh, playfully batting at his chest. “I’m literally growing an entire human here. Maybe have some sympathy for your poor wife?”
“Alright, alright,” Max chuckles, sliding his hands reverently over the swollen curve of your belly. A sense of awe washes over him, just as it does each time he’s reminded of the incredible miracle blooming inside you — a tiny life that is half him, half this fierce, passionate woman he once couldn’t stand.
He leans in to press his forehead tenderly to yours. “I’ve got it all covered tomorrow. Why don’t you take it easy for once?”
You let out a derisive snort at the suggestion. “Yeah, like that’ll happen. Maybe if you massage my back tonight, though ...”
“Deal,” Max murmurs without hesitation, tilting his head to steal a lingering kiss.
Your lips are soft and pliant against his, still electrifying even after all this time. Max marvels yet again at this strange, thrilling new world you’ve ushered him into — one of quiet moments and domesticity and fulfillment. A world that his former self, obsessed with roaring engines and adrenaline, could have never envisioned.
But even as your mouths move in that timeless, familiar dance, Max’s mind drifts back to that fateful first encounter outside his jet all those years ago. The sheer force of your convictions had rocked him to his core then, cracking open the crusty shell around his heart. And before he could blink, you had blossomed into so much more than an impassioned activist — a friend, a confidante, a lover … and now the mother of his unborn child.
At last, you pull away with a contented sigh, cradling Max’s face in your tender palms. “Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you?”
“Once or twice,” he teases gruffly, though his chest clenches with an all too familiar ardor. “But you know I never get tired of hearing it, schatje.”
You beam up at him with utter adoration shining in your eyes. A look that never fails to disarm Max straight to his core. How had it taken so many years of chasing empty accolades for him to finally find this all-encompassing serenity?
“I just ...” You pause, worrying your full lower lip between your teeth. A sure sign you’re struggling to untangle an emotion webbed with complexity. “I never imagined I could be this … content.”
Your gaze drifts wistfully across the sweeping valley before your mountainside property, the majestic peaks dusted with snow on the horizon. For a beat, Max envisions it all through your eyes — the staggering beauty of this utopia you’ve carved out for your budding family, its self-sustaining existence treading as lightly on the earth as possible.
“After so many years fighting and railing against the system, to find this pocket of peace ...” You shake your head slowly, almost deliriously. “It’s more than I could have dreamed.”
Inexplicably, Max feels his eyes prickling with a sudden thickness at your reverent murmur. A lump forms in his throat, welling with all the indescribable gratitude and tenderness that still threatens to overwhelm him at times like this.
“You know,” he rasps out at last, tracing his thumb reverently over the sharp line of your jaw. “After that day at the airport in Nice … I tried so hard to shake the way you made me feel.”
A wistful smile plays across your lips at the memory as your eyes meet his in silent invitation. You’re hanging on his every word now — a state Max still struggles to wrap his mind around at times.
“No matter what I did, or where I traveled, part of me couldn’t escape your voice in my head,” Max continues, pushing through the lump in his throat. “Demanding that I question my way of life, open my eyes to how careless I had been.”
You nod slowly in recognition, lacing your fingers through his. The remembered combativeness from that long ago confrontation has faded now, giving way only to understanding between the two people who recognize each other most profoundly.
“At first, I just tried blocking you out,” Max admits with a rueful chuckle. He dips his head until your foreheads are brushing again as his voice lowers to an intimate rasp. “But the more I pushed you away, the deeper you burrowed inside me. Until I finally stopped fighting it and just … listened.”
He feels your sharp inhale as his words skate warmth down your skin. Slowly, almost unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his in solidarity.
“And look at us now,” you murmur at last, awestruck and achingly tender all at once.
In your eyes, Max glimpses the past, present and future stretching out in dizzying symmetry — those first fierce sparks of passion blossoming into the steadfast love that shelters your growing family. He sees the painstaking nurturing required to transform a confrontation into a partnership over years of effort and understanding.
Most of all, he sees the promise of new dawns yet to come, with each one awakening to your cherished, reverent teachings about the earth’s splendor and fragility.
His heart clenches fit to burst as Max drinks in your beauty — flushed and glowing with new life, still beaming with that incandescent fire that had first seared into his soul. Only now, it burns only for him, a flame stoking devotion and passion and sanctuary.
Just as Max leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, the shrill chime of the doorbell shatters the moment. You spring apart with a breathless laugh.
“Fuck, I forgot Seb was supposed to be coming over today!” You give Max’s chest one last pat before turning toward the house, waddling slightly with the added weight of your pregnant belly.
Max grins fondly, trailing after you at a more leisurely pace. He can’t resist one last admiring glance over his shoulder at the pristine vegetable garden stretching behind the cottage — an oasis of sustainable beauty, just like the life you’ve created here.
As you reach the front door, pulling it open eagerly, Sebastian’s familiar lopsided grin greets you both from the other side. Your brother’s eyes immediately zero in on your rounded midsection, his expression melting into one of pure adoration.
“Oh, Bärchen, you’re positively glowing!” He exclaims, sweeping you into a gentle hug. “How’s my little niece or nephew treating their mom?”
You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back to shoot Max an exaggerated look of suffering. “This kid’s already high maintenance, just like their father. I’ve got swollen ankles, back pains, you name it.”
“Hey now,” Max interjects with a chuckle, sidling up to join the familiar banter. He claps Sebastian’s shoulder affectionately. “If they end up being anything like you in the baby stage, we’re in for a whole new world of sleep deprivation.”
Sebastian returns the grin, unfazed. “Like you aren’t an even bigger handful than me.”
You snort indelicately, looping your arm through Max’s as you shuffle back to allow Sebastian inside. “Are you kidding? With my influence, this baby will be an expert environmentalist before they’re out of diapers.”
“You wish,” Max shoots back with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. He knows better than anyone the depth of your convictions — and appreciates them more than he can put words to.
As the three of you bicker playfully, Max’s chest fills with an overwhelming sense of contentment. Just a few years ago, he could have scarcely imagined this scenario — the love of his life heavy with his child, her doting brother at their side, their sprawling eco-paradise as the idyllic backdrop.
But now, as he guides you both into the spacious, sunlit living room, Max knows without a doubt that this is exactly where he belongs.
Here, sheltered in the passionate wake of your ceaseless quest to better the world. Here, in the eye of the storm you had first raged into his life, upending everything until his soul had no choice but to still and listen.
You shoot him a private smile, reading his thoughts as easily as breathing. In your bright eyes, Max sees the future stretching out blissfully — a path paved by your determined heart that he will gladly tread in partnership forever.
All because on one fateful day, you had dared to make him question everything. And in doing so, unveiled the peace and purpose he never knew he craved.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
461 notes
·
View notes
Text
music nerds
Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: Jenna stumbles upon a tiny vinyl shop, and thinks the employee is mighty cute.
A/n: here it is nerds, my first jenna fic. Was in a silly goofy mood, I miss my babygirl so.
It started at the vinyl shop. You, rearranging the different records into the correct sections, stood humming absentmindedly to the tune of the song playing.
“How’s my favorite employee of the month doing?” Your coworker (and best friend) Harry pipes up, leaning on the shelves opposite you.
“You can stop calling me that, we both know the only reason I got crowned this month was because you missed six days and I had to cover for your ass.” You mumble, slightly annoyed. It had been a long day, with customers shuffling in and out without ever buying anything. It didn’t help that the only customers Harry attended to were girls he thought were cute.
He nudges you a little, trying to prompt you away from rearranging the vinyls.
When you don’t answer, he huffs a little and then makes his way to the back—no doubt about to take a nap—where he’ll stay until closing time.
You sigh softly, shaking your head.
Even though you loved Harry to shreds, you hated being his coworker. He could be trusted with nothing.
You move over to the next section, swaying a little to the tune, losing yourself in the music.
You’re aware of the jingle of the bell that indicates someone has entered as you shuffle through the records.
They could take care of themselves for just a few minutes, you reckon.
Soft footsteps sound from behind you, and the sound of someone putting a stop to the music makes you frown. Then, there’s a tiny scratching noise before the melody of I am Controlled By Your Love by Helene Smith sounds through the tiny store.
You can’t help the tiny smile that envelops your face; and the surprise that echos through your mind. You’d just found out about this song, while scrolling through a playlist someone had made for your celebrity crush, Jenna Ortega.
Apparently she liked the song, if you remembered correctly from watching one of her interviews passingly.
“Great choice.” You tell whoever put it on, still not turning to face them.
“Thanks, I’m surprised this place has it. I’ve been looking for weeks.” A girl answers, and it sounds vaguely familiar.
“Well, we sure do. One of the best vinyl stores in the country if I do say so myself.” You smile, finally finishing tampering with the discs and turn to your customer.
It takes everything in you to not gasp out loud—standing in front of you was the Jenna Ortega.
You feel your hands grip the shelves just a little tighter, and you prayed to god that Jenna didn’t see the blush very quickly climbing up your neck.
“One of the best, huh?” She smiles, and you swear you could feel your heart physically melt.
She looks, if not better, exactly like in the pictures. It’s surreal, this person you see almost everyday on your phone, standing in front of you.
She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and some baggy jeans. There are sunglasses blocking her eyes, maybe to try to avert attention, but you could tell in an instant who she was.
You think she knows too, by the way she’s smirking a little.
“Yeah, and there are a ton of artists just like the one you just put on, at the back corner over there.” You point with shaky fingers, cursing yourself for looking so stupid.
She nods and disappears further into the store, and you breathe out in relief.
Holy shit! Jenna Ortega!
You place a hand over your heart, reminding yourself to be normal and check if you’re still breathing.
“Uh-I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. Where did you say?” She pops her head out from one of the shelves, cocking her head to the side.
You grab your bearings, determined to not make a fool of yourself.
You were an employee. Just an employee helping out a confused customer.
“It’s hard to find, believe me I know.” You smile reassuringly, sauntering over to where she was standing.
“Here, just follow me.” You say, weaving through the maze that was this tiny vinyl store.
She bumps into you a few times, saying a soft sorry as she does. You placate her worries with soft it’s okays everytime she does.
“Ahah! Right here. My pride and joy.” You beam, getting used to having her so close and relaxing.
“What would you recommend?” She muses, flicking through the artists.
“Well, I’m a Beatles girl myself,” You tell her, looking over the records, “but I am a sucker for The Mamas & The Papas.”
She raises an eyebrow at you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.
“I know, I know! I’m a mainstream whore.” You say before you can stop yourself, something definitely inappropriate to say to a customer.
Jenna lets out a little giggle, fast like she can’t help herself.
You take the opportunity to keep talking, since she seems interested in the music over here.
“But, there is another artist somewhere here, I think you’ll like.” You wink, then mentally face palm yourself.
You turn back to the records in order to hide your expression, finally finding the guy you were looking for.
“Frank Zappa.” You explain as you hand it over to her. “An instrumental.”
She looks at it thoughtfully, inspecting the album art; then looks up at you and smiles. Her brown eyes make you want to cry and scream, but you keep your composure.
“You have nice eyes.” She murmurs, eyes flickering over your face. Then, just as fast, she turns away and walks back the way you came.
“What just happened.” You breathe once she’s out of earshot, carefully walking back to the cashier.
She’s waiting, texting someone on her phone.
When you slide up behind the counter, all flirty smiles, she tilts her head.
“Took you long enough.” She teases, scrunching her nose in embarrassment unconsciously.
You stutter endlessly, trying and failing to come up with an excuse. It all comes out in one jumbled poor excuse of a sentence that you try to cover up with a cough.
You slide her things over and scan them, not daring to look at her probably smug face.
“That’s all.” You say, somewhat bashfully, stealing a glance back at her.
Her eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place, but something you can certainly feel. Warmth envelops you whole, your knees turning into jelly.
You put her stuff into a plastic bag, hand them over, and bite back the hitch of breath when your hand grazes hers.
She bites her lip thoughtfully, shifting on her feet. The bag is in her hands now, she’s free to leave.
But still, she stands there, looking like she’s thinking very hard about something.
You try and prompt her out of her thoughts, murmur a quiet, “Anything else?” and watches as she takes out her phone and pushes it to your side of the desk.
“Yeah. Your number.” She squeaks, blushing a faint pink. She clears her throat and says it again, in a tone deeper than before.
It takes absolutely everything in you to keep your mouth shut. It desperately desperately wants to drop, not quite computing what is really happening.
You take it before she can change her mind, quickly jamming in your number and taking a quick photo for the profile.
She beams as you hand it back to her, not bothering to stop the cheeky satisfied smile that wants to take over her lips.
“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” She asks, and you nod adamantly, forgetting all pretense of chill.
“Right. Uh huh. Super!” You call out as she makes her way out the door, shaking her head at your dorkiness.
“Holy shit!” You yell this time, breathing out a huge sigh of relief you didn’t even know you were holding.
You’re rooted to the spot, afraid that if you move you’ll wake up and this’ll all be a dream.
“Wha-What happened?” Harry comes tumbling out the back door, plastic baseball bat in hand.
You lock eyes with him and let yourself fall down into the nearest chair, all wild eyes.
“I just got Jenna Ortega’s number!” You tell him, letting your hands run through your hair, happy and stressed.
His eyes narrow, then he shoots you a lopsided smirk.
“Sure you did.” He says, letting the baseball bat fall beside him, guard down.
“No Harry, she really came in here! And asked me for my number!” You yell, exasperated.
You can tell he doesn’t really believe you, but all it takes is one good look at your face, all white and red at the same time, and he’s widening his eyes comically wide.
“No fucking way.” He gushes, sliding over to sit beside you. He practically preens over you, all questioning eyes.
“Well what did you do?” He pushes, waiting for you to elaborate.
You tell him the whole story, slightly reveling in his reactions. He never fails to make you laugh at his comments.
“So…what now?” Harry asks after a minute, raising his eyebrows.
You sigh. “I don’t know, I guess I’m gonna have to wait for her to call me. Who knows how long that’s gonna take.”
“Well, you better be ready for her when she does. Oh my god we so need to do a makeover.” He rambles, turning on his phone to look at hairdressers nearby. You lean back into your chair, overwhelmed.
For now, you’re worry-less. Jenna Ortega just asked for your number, and you think you couldn’t be luckier. The only thing to do now was wait, and so you do.
#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega imagine#tara carpenter x reader#wednesday addams x reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader
439 notes
·
View notes
Text
Image this:
Danny is sixteen. He just found out he is to become King, with a capital K, when he becomes a mature ghost, which is at least 20 years after his death. So he’s got time. Everything’s fine. Except for the Observants pushing his education. Tutors shoving information down his throat like he’s cramming for finals. Princess Dora, Pandora, Frostbite, and even Clockwork checking on him frequently and making a schedule for him to come visit their territories for little learning sessions. Fright Knight has been following his every move. And let’s not forget the other random ghosts he’s never even met before coming to ask for favors or to complain or just give him their problems in general and expect him to fix it.
He can’t even let his frustrations out! All his regular rogues avoid him now! Even Vlad doesn’t want to get involved, but that could be because he’s still bitter about not getting the crown like he wanted.
Good thing he knows a king that has probably been through the same thing.
King Arthur of Atlantis. In other words, Aquaman.
Because Danny wasn’t technically king yet, crowned prince is probably the right title?, he couldn’t just call him up or send a letter asking to meet. So Danny decides to go give the man a visit himself.
Using process of elimination, he was able to find Atlantis after about two months of research and searching. He didn’t have a whole lot of free time, okay?
Turning invisible and flying through the water was a lot easier than he thought. Getting through the barrier was a piece of cake and the castle was obvious to find. What wasn’t obvious to find was the king himself. He wasn’t in the throne room, or his study, or the training grounds, or literally anywhere in the castle. He checked.
No. He finds the king playing some game with some kids in the underwater city.
It was surprising to find him there, especially after the etiquette lessons from Dora, but it gave Danny some hope that maybe he wouldn’t be miserable and burdened with paperwork and boring meetings when he becomes king.
Danny turns visible. They were still invested in the game but the guards noticed him. Spears were pointed at him in a second.
“Halt! State your business,” the guard demands.
The shout caused everyone in the area to stop and look, including the king.
Danny raises his hands in surrender.
“Uh, hi. Sorry to stop the game, I just wanted to talk- sorry, speak to King Arthur, if- if that’s okay? There wasn’t an address to mail to that I could find-“
“It’s okay,” the king interrupts. “Let’s go somewhere private to talk then. Do you have any weapons on you?”
Danny perks up at the opportunity to finally talk to him.
“Yes please! And no, no weapons, sir.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” the king replies with a smile. Danny smiles back widely.
“My king-“
The king holds up a hand to stop the guard’s worries.
When they finally arrive to the throne room of the palace King Arthur turns to Danny.
“Who are you?” He asks in a tone that was a bit more serious than it was before.
“Oh! Sorry. Hi. I’m Danny. Danny Phantom. It’s nice to meet you, King Arthur,” he answers quickly with a nervous smile.
The king nods, obviously thinking about something else as he watches Danny with guarded eyes.
“How can you breathe underwater if I may ask? I’m curious.”
“Well that’s easy, I’m not breathing.”
“You’re… not breathing,” the king repeats with skepticism.
“Yea,” Danny agrees freely. “I don’t have to breathe if I don’t want to. You know, because of the whole ghost thing.”
“Ghost?”
“Yea. Can turn invisible, walk through walls, fly- you know. Haven’t you ever seen a ghost before?”
Danny tries a bit of humor with a crooked smile, but it falls when he sees the contemplative expression on the king’s face.
“Wait, seriously? You’ve never seen a ghost?”
“I’m aware of a ghost named Deadman apart of Justice League Dark but he is invisible to everyone.”
“Really?! I didn’t know that! I need to go talk to him! Where can I find him?”
“Hold on there, guppy. Didn’t you want to talk about something?”
Danny is drawn back to the topic at hand.
“Right, okay, so I was recently told I was gonna be king in like twenty years, which is news to me, and now they are just throwing everything at me with all this information I don’t know what to do with and I’m getting complaints and requests and everyone is expecting so much from me when I’m literally sixteen years old! I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, whether I want to go to college or if I’ll even graduate high school, and they want me to solve territory disputes and create new laws and provide protection for those who want to go into the living plane. I just- I don’t know what I’m doing and the only king I could think of was you, so I guess I was wondering if you could, I don’t know, give me some advice or if I could shadow you for a bit to see what an actual king should do or act. I know it’s a lot to ask coming from someone you don’t even know, but I’m just a bit overwhelmed with everything and I don’t really know where to go from here and was hoping you would at least understand. My friends don’t get it and the other ghosts are kinda afraid of me now because of my title and they wouldn’t get it anyway…” he trails off awkwardly.
Arthur had never had this conversation before. He was honestly flattered and the kid looked genuine. Maybe he’d wait until one of the magic users okay-ed the young ‘ghost’ before revealing any information about himself.
He pulls out a device and throws it the kid. Danny dodges just to snatch it out of the air from reflex alone.
“That’s a communicator. I’ll send Deadman and Constantine your way and call when I get the okay. Where are you located?”
Danny’s toxic eyes were big and hopeful, shining brightly through the water.
“Thank you, sir! Amity Park, Illinois, the most haunted city in America!” He answers proudly.
The king just smiles.
#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny phantom#aquaman#dp x dc writing prompt#prompt idea#john constantine#dc x dp#dc x dp prompt
475 notes
·
View notes
Text
★Pick a Picture:☁️🩵Things your FS would love about you🩵☁️
•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!
🩵If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🩵
🩰Masterlist🩰
🩵Hi pile 1, Your person loves how smart both emotionally and intellectually you are,they feel as if you outsmart them sometimes.
They love how your energy radiates when you enter a room, I feel like they will talk about you a lot with their peers. You brought a new perspective to their life, its like you brought back the "adventurous" side to them.
You are probably someone with a good sense of humor, really clever and witty; they also adore this. You are your FS comfort space, they apreciate how atentive and understanding you are with them; they may not open up easily but with you this changes, you are nonjudmental and grounded, they admire this and hopes to bring this support to you as well.
☁️Song:
🩵Hi pile 2, Your fs loves how attractive you are. You are probably soemone who is effortlesly flirty and alluring, they like to show you off a lot, in a good way of course.
They love how charismatic and entertaining you come off, for them even a little "wild". You are autentic, in a way they never knew before; you make them curious and they adore that. I feel like you two would be partners in a crime, "ride or die", they will put their entire trust in you blindly.
"Dreamy" is what i keep hearing, you are the kind of person they always dreamed to be with, their dream come true. Theres a balance in your personality, you know how to have fun but also how to be serious when needed, and thats what makes them trust you with their life. They just completely adore you Pile 2! Lucky you <3
☁️Song:
🩵Hi pile 3, Your Fs loves how your presence in their life makes them happy. They see you as their source of happiness and joy, they could be having a bad day but if you smile at them, they whole day its saved.
I feel that you also confuse them in a good way, its like they cannont point out what but they feel like you always surprise them in some way. You may have some kind of mystical understanding and they really admire this about you, maybe you even connect them more with their spiritual side. They also love the way you dress, maybe you have an unique style, piercings, jewerly, haistyle, etc.
You are just so lovable and unique in their eyes, they trully see their entire future with you by their side.
☁️Song:
🩵☁️Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated ☁️🩵
#astrology placements#zodiac#astro community#astrology#astro blog#astro notes#astro news#astro observations#tarot reading#tarot cards#tarot and astrology#tarot witch#tarot spread#tarotblr#tarot community#tarot tumblr#paid tarot readings#paid readings#pac readings#pick a picture#pick a photo#pick a pile#pick a card#pick one#pic a card reading#paid services#paid tarot reading#natal chart reading#paid natal chart reading#future spouse reading
409 notes
·
View notes
Text
cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)
satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.
only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.
satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.
for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.
“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.
it’s so satoru.
you have to stifle a giggle.
“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”
“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”
satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.
“mhm, still my baby.”
“yeah? what else am i?”
this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.
“my honey bun.”
“and?”
“my boo bear.”
“mhm.”
“my sweetheart.”
“yes?”
you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.
he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.
“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.
“my sugar cookie.”
“my muffin.”
“my baby cakes.”
“my angel.”
“my love.”
“my husband.”
“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”
“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”
“i think you should call me it again.”
“oh?”
“mhm,” he mumbles.
“my dearest husband.”
“again.”
“my handsome husband.”
“again.”
“my sweet husband.”
“again, please?”
you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”
satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.
“i think i want to be your husband for real.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”
“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.
“hm, good to know.”
for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.
he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.
he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.
#ꕤ — sanatomis darling: gojo satoru#usually i list the nicknames i have from him of the top of my head but i’ll admit it guys#i opened my notes app for this one#i call him so many nicknames i know mimi is sick of us#very self-indulgent once again my apologies (or not)#HES JUST SO#adorable#he’s everything and he deserves every nickname#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x reader fluff#satoru gojo x reader fluff#gojo x reader fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#⍣ ❥ ೋ 𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑖-𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑒.#sneaking it in again guys sorry
255 notes
·
View notes
Text
meet me in the afterglow * fem!driver
does sorry even work after you hurt the people you love?
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver
notes: once upon a time, this 2025 szn only had like... 3/4 parts? and because i have 0 self control, it's now split into 9 parts... i promise the next part is actually the last part and there's no more surprise angst so here's the kind of comfort fic...? lolsie
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
she stares into the restaurant where the group of blondes sit, trying to count in her head if she should finally announce her presence.
she’d been lurking in the group chat watching them make plans. plans that included her by default yet she still hesitated to bring herself out to meet them.
perhaps it’s too soon to be here? unless oscar wasn’t lying when he said that her other friends miss her too despite isolating herself for more than half the year.
“what are you doing lingering out here in the cold?” a familiar voice fills her ears with a soft chuckle. “come on in and join us for lunch, silly.”
“oscar,” she laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of her head. “i’m afraid it’s too soon for me to be here. i’ll just head back home.”
oscar tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows. he watches her turn on her heel and starts walking in the direction of her apartment. “what?” he grabs her wrist and yanks her towards the entrance of the restaurant. “no, you told me you’d join us today. you got ready and everything — even did your makeup! you look great, mate.”
she tries to pull herself back. “i don’t even know if they want me here.”
“remember what i told you yesterday,” oscar stops in his tracks and turns around to face her, “sometimes it’s all in your head. this time, trust me when i say it is. liam and mick missed you just as much as we did.”
she hesitates for a moment but eventually nods. oscar cheers and pumps his fist in the air. “great! then let’s go.”
oscar guides her into the restaurant and slowly approaches the table where their friends sit.
liam scowls at logan, “i’m seriously curious about whatever the hell goes in your head.”
“what do you mean?” logan asks, slightly hurt, “it’s a legit question. they’re just infected — sick, perhaps — so technically they’re still human.”
“point taken, but like… i wouldn’t consider them human still,” mick mumbles hesitantly, seemingly in deep thought over logan’s question. “but that’s just a very… peculiar question.”
“if rocky was here, she’d entertain me unlike you losers,” logan scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “your answers are basic. i want an actual nurturing conversation about zombies and their human rights.”
“you guys got an extra seat for me? i have opinions about zombies and human rights,” she says softly with a smile. “i know i haven’t joined you in a while and i’m sorry. but if you let me—”
“oh, you’re here!” mick jumps up from his seat. he rounds the table and shoves oscar away from her then throws his arms around the small girl. “there’s always a seat for you! what do you mean?”
“welcome back,” liam beams with a nod. “mick here has a list of gossip he wants to talk to you about.”
logan scowls, “gossip that he refused to tell us unless you’re around.”
“well, why would i tell you boring idiots are gossip i worked so hard to get?” mick scowls, rolling his eyes. he starts to guide her towards his seat and pulls out a chair for her to sit next to him. “for a bunch of uninterested answers and sighs?”
“i could be—”
“whatever!” mick says exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. he sits her down in the seat and takes his own, pulling his phone out from his pocket. “so i have a list. let’s start with whatever the hell is going on with red bull and max.”
liam watches the girl walk out of the restaurant first, with the ruse that it’s too warm inside the restaurant. he excuses himself from mick, waving him off nonchalantly as he tries to settle the bill.
“i’m glad you’re back,” liam hums with a smile, approaching her with his head dropped and kicking rocks on the ground. “missed you, mate.”
“thanks,” she laughs, looking up from her phone. “i’m sorry i clocked out for a while there. i didn’t know how to cope with the year we were having.”
“it would’ve been nice to have you around,” he admits softly, finally stopping by her side. “this season has been so cruel to us. wish we had each other a little bit more, you know? we could’ve just gone through it together.”
she throws her head back. at some point in the year, she did consider that. but she’d tried getting herself to reach out to liam, but by that time, it felt like a case of too little too late.
“i know,” she sighs with a small smile. “i’m sorry. i thought you were doing perfectly fine without me.”
“the world’s always been a little harder on you, let’s admit that,” liam rests his arm on her shoulder, “we’re just glad that you’re back. you look like you’ve gotten back the colour in your face.”
“yeah, it’s about time,” she nods. “so, about your offers from other teams. anything that stood out to you yet?”
liam grins. “i’ve been meaning to talk to you about that after summer break. i didn’t think i’d see you til then,” he laughs. “they’re gonna announce it on the first race weekend from summer break.”
“you made a decision!” she shrieks. though, she feels her chest slightly tighten. liam avoiding a direct answer can truly only mean one thing and it’s that she’ll have to cozy up with some new driver that isn’t one of her closest friends. “that’s amazing, i’m so happy for you!”
“i’ve re-signed with andretti, mate. a year extension and if it goes well next year, i’m definitely staying a little longer,” liam jumps up and grabs her shoulders, “we’re going to be teammates forever!”
“what?” she almost drops her phone from the bombshell he’s dropped on her. “you’re not leaving?”
“don’t tell the guys yet, it’s a secret til then!” liam immediately recomposes himself when the doors open and their friends walk out.
“what are you girls giggling about?” oscar snorts, shaking his head. “keeping secrets from us?”
“it’s a teammate thing.”
“what are you doing still in the car?” logan hums, hunching to look into the car. the girl continues to sit in the passenger seat and looks ahead blankly. “oscar’s already at the door, dude. let’s go.”
“what if they hate me forever?” she frowns, turning to logan with slight tears in her eyes. “i sucked. not very family-friendly of me to act the way i did. and missing the anniversary party? not very cool either.”
“just get out of the car,” logan snorts, finally opening the door for her. he points towards the house and looks back at her. “come on. your dad told us he made your favourite cookies if it will help get you inside.”
she rolls her eyes. “you told papa i was coming?”
“just him, i promise.”
“boo. you suck.”
but she follows logan out of the car anyway. she watches as logan drags both of their bags towards the door and gives her another smile. then he walks down the pathway through the front yard to make his way to the front door.
she watches from the car as the front door opens, revealing her mother with a wide grin as she greets logan and oscar with open arms, yanking them in for a tight hug and kisses on cheeks. she only gets noticed when oscar steps aside to point at the car.
“you’re here!” her mother shrieks, hands on her cheeks as she pushes past the 2 boys in front of her. “my love, i missed you so much! i’m so glad you’re here!”
she remains in her position, hands fisted by her side as she watches her mother thread the stone pathway to walk over to her. “you look amazing. i’m so happy that you’re here.”
arms are thrown around her tightly, catching her off-guard. she’s barely even got the chance to get her carefully constructed apology out. for how she’s acted, for how she treated everyone in that house for the couple of days she spent in it.
“i’m seriously so glad you’re here. good thing i made your favourite,” her mother shrieks, starting to yank her towards the house. “and papa made cookies! then blythe stocked up on the ice cream you like hoping you were coming by with oscar and logan.
“dalton’s going to be so glad that you’re here.”
“dalton?” she asks in surprise, lifting an eyebrow as she follows her mother into the house. “isn’t he mad at me?”
her mother grins and stops right before they enter the kitchen. her cheek is cupped by her mother tenderly and the other hand brushes through her hair. “blythe sat both ciara and dalton down and told them off. i’m sorry i didn’t see you were struggling — i thought i was helping. i didn’t know.”
“you know?” she tilts her head with furrowed eyebrows. tears fill her eyes as she slumps her shoulder. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you. you know i love you, mama.”
“it’s okay. you’re still just my baby,” her mother sighs, pulling her head in to rest on her shoulder. “i should have known you were just overwhelmed. i’m sorry i didn’t notice and drove you even further.”
“oh, cool! you’re here!” dalton’s voice echoes in the house, making her jump off her mother. “i made you cookies!”
“did not,” ciara scoffs, rolling her eyes, following dalton down the stairs. “we had to buy a new batch of ingredients cause he put the egg whites in with the batter.”
dalton shakes his head disapprovingly as he passes the mother and daughter. “they told me too late. they’re not the best at instructions and that’s why you can tell ciara works all by herself in a measly little studio — can’t lead for shit.”
ciara smacks the back of his head. “fuck you.” the younger girl turns to her oldest sister with a smile. “welcome home. we set up just dance so we can watch logan trip over his feet all evening.”
“hey!”
apologising should come easy, she’s already done it attempting to make amends for the past 2 weeks with everyone. though she can’t ignore the churning in her stomach as she walks down a familiar hallway.
drafting the apology speech in her hotel room came naturally to her. with logan and oscar’s nod of approvals, suddenly she was ready to head out.
but there’s still the worry that it could be rejected.
who would want to take her back, anyway? it’s a miracle that everyone else in her life has received her with open arms after the way she acted.
she stares at the plain door for a moment and takes a deep breath. she just has to say she’s sorry, that’s all. just like how she told her friends she would.
she bites down on her lip as she finally musters the courage to land a knock on the door.
“give me a second!”
“okay, no rush.”
footsteps from inside the apartment halt for a moment. she hears heavy footsteps approaching the door and something dropping on the floor, then stumbling, making her smile to herself. then she hears the locks click hurriedly before it’s yanked open.
matt sighs in relief and throws his head back. “thank god it’s actually you. i thought i was going crazy hearing your voice.”
“over exaggeration,” she points out with a small smile. she sucks in a deep breath and exhales shakily. “hi.”
“hi,” he slouches slightly and leans on the door frame. “why didn’t you tell me you were coming? i could’ve picked you up from the airport.”
she waves his concerns away with a soft laugh. “it wouldn’t be a surprise if i asked you to pick me up, would it?” she looks down and extends her hands, a bouquet of flowers pushed into his chest. “these are for you.”
“what?” surprised, yet he still takes it into his hands. “what are these for?”
“i’m sorry,” she says softly, pursing her lips with a soft shrug. “i didn’t wanna do it over the phone or make you fly to london just so i can do it there… i blew things out of proportion and i pushed you away when all you wanted to do was help. i’m the one who burned us down.”
“they’re apology flowers?” he points out, slightly amused, scanning the bouquet with a smile. “you came all this way to say that to me?”
“i didn’t know how else to show you how sorry i really am.” she shifts uncomfortably and tucks her hair behind her ears. “i’ll spend forever making it up to you, i promise. i should have coped better and—”
“i missed you,” he says in a sigh. he puts the bouquet down on the top of his shoe back and lunges forward to throw his arms around her. he squeezes her tightly and buries his face into her hair. “you seriously should have told me you were coming.”
“matt—”
“i’m so excited that you’re finally here! i was taking kota out on a walk the other day and i walked past this new ice cream shop. i think you might really like it there,” matt starts to ramble, pulling away. “just give me 20 minutes and let’s head out for a date? how does that sound?”
she blinks, slightly taken aback by how he’s reacted. “what?”
“i haven’t been away that long, have i?” he stares at her curiously, furrowing his eyebrows. “you still love ice cream, don’t you?”
“yeah, but… you know… i was so mean to you for so long. shouldn’t you be a little angrier at me for what i did? i was such a bitch.”
“you were having a hard time,” he says immediately as she tries to berate herself. “i don’t blame you for that. it’s okay; we’re okay.” he pulls her into his apartment. “i’m just glad you’re back — my girlfriend’s back!”
“hi,” she greets with a smile, catching the older man off-guard as he approaches her. “fun summer break?”
sebastian flinches slightly and looks around him. there is nobody else here that she could be speaking to but him. “hi?” he smiles hesitantly. “it was. how was yours?”
“it was alright,” she shrugs, pressing her lips together into a thin line. she moves towards her bags to leave an empty space open for sebastian. “i got you something over the break. i went to los angeles for a couple of days.”
he tilts his head and jab his finger into his chest. “you got me something? on your trip?”
“yeah,” she grins. she turns away momentarily to grab something out of her bag and turns to present a pair of mugs to him. “i’m sorry i broke our matching mugs that one night in the paddocks. and i’m sorry i was a total bitch the entire season and that i was a big fat meanie, as dalton put it.”
he laughs, throwing his head back. if you’d asked him, he would have been more worried if they started the second half of the season with her still in the trenches.
it’s relieving to see that she’s gotten colour back into her face, making conversation and looking well put together. if her behaviour continued any longer, he’s afraid it would have become permanent at some point.
“you’re okay now?” sebastian grins, patting her on the head. she beams and nods. “okay enough to eat some ice cream?”
“yes,” she sighs exasperatedly with the roll of her eyes. “i can’t believe i haven’t eaten ice cream for 2 months. can you believe i stayed away that long?”
“honestly, i thought all this stemmed from the lack of ice cream,” sebastian jokes, poking her shoulder. “welcome back, kid. let’s make the best out of the rest of our season, okay? no more cowering into the corner — we face it head on.”
she nods firmly. “okay.”
taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @iwilleatyourgod @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool
#sebastian vettel x reader#oscar piastri x reader#logan sargeant x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 female driver#formula one x reader#fem!driver#f1 fem!driver#female driver#disneyprincemuke vr#disneyprincemuke#disneyprincemuke imagine#disneyprincemuke imagines#disneyprincemuke f1#vettel reincarnate
252 notes
·
View notes
Text
♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 ₊˚ˑ༄
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Could I request Kaeya, Neuvillette, Ayato, and Wriothesley with a dragon s/o?
Also, how are you?
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yeah!! I kinda sillies in Kaeya's part but I hope it's not a problem- Either way, I'm good! Snd you~? ^^
Hope you like what I wrote hehe
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff
✧ Kaeya noticed dragon-like looking person when he was walking back home from Angel's Share, so naturally, he thoughts it's alcohol doing...
✧ but who is he to decline his fate? He came up and complimented your features anyway, sure tomorrow he'll see you as normal citizen
✧ from your end, you noticed the man was obviously under influence of alcohol but he wasn't harmful... so you let the conversation go the way you wanted~
✧ and when on next day he discovers it wasn't him tripping... well.. he's glad to have such an interesting friend! Because unless you push him away, he's not gonna back away from this friendship!
"My my~ It's rare to see someone so pretty! That tail must be really heavy, huh? Want me to hold it for you?"
✧ but if you two are lovers and he sees your real form by mistake... he'll be freezed for a second... hehe get it? Because in his ult he- ehem.. sorry..
✧ but when he sees you panicking, he immidietly chuckles and assures you while caressing your cheek with his hand gently and maybe flirt while he's at it as well~
"Why would I ever think you're a monster when you're as stunning as always, my darling? Maybe even more~ This "scary look" definitely makes you look even more lovable~"
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your cavalry capitan~
✧ Ayato, being head of Kamisato Clan, is always trying to be as respectful as possible, be it if you come from different region or aren't human... as long as you're friendly and give him respect back, he'd be happy to chat
✧ but dragons in Inazuma are still rarely seen... so when he noticed you on his walk, he tried approaching you with a soft look
✧ he honestly just wishes to get to know you and maybe realize the difference between human and dragons behavior... and who knows? Maybe he'll get to know even more if he plays his cards right?
"Good evening. I'm sorry it I started you, I just noticed your... rare beauty and wondered if you'd be interested in a little chat?"
✧ tho if you're already partners and you happened to hide your real form well... he'll be even more interested...
✧ how did you manage to hide it from him for so long? He's curious to me know this and many more about you
✧ but if he sees you're stressing yourself over the fact he found out, he'll be quick to calm you down, assuring you he still loves you the same
"Please calm down... I don't see why you hid it in the first place... Did you really thought I wouldn't love you just because you have tail? If anything, I say you only expanded my interest in you~"
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot - come get your boba lover!
✧ and so is Neuvillette~ he just has a bit of a better disguise while you're... walking proudly in your form... and that's alright!
✧ if you can be easily found on streets, he'll be happy to see another dragon friend and will probably even approach you himself
✧ Charlotte definitely saw you two interacting at some point, especially since Neuvillette is a big person, but of course she asked first before publishing anything and it's up to you if you were in the news or not!
✧ but if you prefer hiding in quieter places, there's still a chance he found you and yob two chatted either way
✧ he'd probably come off as calm but in reality, he's pretty excited to finally meet another dragon with such a pleasent personality
"I find it quite surprising we haven't met untill today... I'd like to get to know you more if you don't mind."
✧ and if it happens you both are already dating when you spoil your secret identity~ believe me, he won't mind one single bit!
✧ he literally can't understand why you even tried hiding it from him when he already told you he's the same
✧ but don't worry, he's not mad, if anything he's gentle and tries his best to be reassuring
"Why were you afraid? Haven't I already revelead I'm the same? My love for you can't be broken, no matter who you turn out to be."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your otter judge~
✧ Wriothesley is already friends with Neuvillette and has pretty sharp eye and ear, there's no way he didn't know his friend is a dragon
✧ so when he got our of Fortress of Meropide to get some work done and saw a dragon, of course he was surprised since seeing one is rare, but he also didn't care to make a scene
✧ he probably ignored you letting you live your life since there was no reason for him to interrupt anything, unless... you're wandering around terrains, the he may
"Excuse me, you may want to keep away from these terrains. You may be taken as a prisoner running away by mistake."
✧ and if you already were his partner, I feel like he'd hear some stories from his dragon friend already... so he'd joke that you act like some dragons in the stories, turning out to be... half joke...
✧ but when you finally reveal the truth to him, he doesn't mind at all! The only thing that changed is the way he may tease you from time to time but that's it
"Walking around in your true form for once? Glad you're comfy. But watch out for your tail or it'll knock down something."
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
@bleachtheidiot @toyaswif3y - come get your teddybear duke~
#genshin impact#genshin#x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#kaeya#ayato#neuvillette#wriothesley#kamisato ayato#kaeya x reader#ayato x reader#neuvillette x reader#wriothesley x reader#genshin kaeya#genshin ayato#genshin neuvilette#genshin wriothesley#genshin kaeya x reader#genshin ayato x reader#genshin neuvillette x reader#genshin wriothesley x reader#fluff#genshin fluff#headcanons#genshin headcanons
249 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part of the family
word count; 465 – gn!reader
You and Tsukishima have been together for a long time, but he’s not enough of a family guy that you’ve properly gotten to know his brother yet. At some point in the relationship, he told you about the history of his strained relationship with his brother, so you respected whatever pace he wanted.
That’s why you were so pleasantly surprised when Kei suggested inviting Akiteru and his fiancé over to your place for an evening of Monopoly and wine.
What Kei didn’t predict, was that you and Akiteru would be so competitive that you were on your feet pointing at each other and yelling over the table after you landed on a lot that Akiteru bought but forgot to grab the card for.
Kei had never been more in love with you, but as he saw that Akiteru’s fiancé tried to get him to sit down, he decided to help even though he didn’t mind you making a scene. He rested his hand on the small of your back and stroked up to your shoulder before carefully guiding you back to your seat. You followed his lead, still glaring at his brother.
“Kei,” you said with a threatening undertone that he didn’t take too seriously. “Tell your brother that I’m right. I should be allowed to buy the lot.”
Tsukishima sighed, side-eyeing his brother who looked at him expectantly. It wasn’t like Tsukki to lie in order to please someone else, but here he was with the love of his life, so Akiteru wondered how this would turn out. “He did buy that lot last round,” he said with finality, hand still resting on your shoulder. “Maybe we should give him this one so that he won’t feel too bad when he loses later?” he added, pretending to whisper but obviously wanting his brother to hear it.
A smug smile fell over your mouth, and Kei swore you were trying to get him to kiss you even though it was directed at his brother. You sighed dramatically, acting very agreeable. “Fine, keep your lot. I’d say you owe me ten per cent of each rent but it won’t matter in the end anyway,” you teased, eyes looking over the board like you were so nonchalant about it, and Kei snickered from beside you. He leaned his arm over the back of your chair, matching your energy.
Akiteru scoffed, crossing his arms and totally seeing why you and his little brother got along so well. You’re both menaces.
“Let her skip this rent though, as a lesson in responsibility,” your boyfriend added, gesturing towards his brother’s fiancé with a suave ‘your turn to roll’.
As if Kei wasn’t motivated to find the right engagement ring before, he definitely was now. You’re part of the family already.
masterlist
#haikyu#hq x reader#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyu fluff#tsukishima kei#tsukishima x reader#haikyuu tsukishima#hq tsukishima#tsukki#tsukishima akiteru#tsukishima brothers#tsukishima
222 notes
·
View notes
Text
Domestic Bliss: Higuruma Hiromi #3, Bite
Hiromi suffered from cute aggression. But, only for you.
He simply couldn't help himself. After a terrible, awful, no-good day at work, full of trials and tribulations, to come home and see you, in all your comfy glory...well. He simply couldn't help himself.
Stepping through the doorway, and leaning back to shut the door with an incoherent huff that might have been 'I'm home', Hiromi locked onto his target. He didn't even stop as he kicked his shoes off. Instead, he yeeted them off mid-step, one at a time, in two practiced, fluid flings.
You hadn't managed to spin round by the time his arms looped around you, pressing you into the wall from behind with more incoherent groans into the back of your shoulder. You felt his hooked nose, nuzzling hard, his whole face rubbed with some force, as he squeezed you, shook you from side to side with minimal self-restraint, pushing against you, as if he'd climb straight into your skin if he could.
You laughed, squirming against him, which only made his grumbling ministrations worse.
And then-- the bite. You yipped to feel his sharp canines sink into you, and his biting reproach.
"Stop squirming," Hiromi chastised, muffled, "and I wouldn't have to bite."
"It hurts, you're so strong--"
"--shut up and take it, there's a good girl--"
"--you're so rude to me--"
"--gosh, I'm sorry, I meant shut up sweetheart--"
By this point, you had turned in his arms, still pinned to the wall, play fighting. Hiromi laughed as you tried to get away, pinning you harder, wedging you to the wall with his hips, until--
Bite.
Hiromi moaned, raw and pornographic, as your teeth pressed into his throat. You short circuited, pulling away and looking up at him in surprise.
Oh. The way his eyes glimmered down at you, feverish, little lit coals in the dark. The way his cock pulsed, thickening against your belly. The way he wordlessly begged you to do it again.
You reached up, sinking your teeth into his neck once more. Hiromi moaned again, ragged and stilted. His hips fucked involuntarily against you.
"--haaah shit-- don't stop-- harder--"
You did as you were told. By the time he was done with you, splayed and full of cum beneath him, Hiromi was peppered with bite-marks, panting, hardening again against your thigh and grazing his teeth around your nipples.
He simply couldn't help himself.
#jjk#pseudowho#higuruma hiromi#higuruma#higuruma hiromi x reader#higuruma smut#higuruma x reader#hiromi higuruma#hiromi higuruma x reader#jjk higuruma#jujutsu kaisen higuruma#Higuruma Hiromi fluff#Higuruma Hiromi smut#higuruma hiromi x you#hiromi higuruma smut#hiromi higuruma x you#hiromi jjk#hiromi hiromi hiromi#jjk hiromi#hiromi x reader#hiromi smut
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝖆𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓[𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘] - 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊
sukuna is on the verge of being kicked out from uni, and his friends are completely useless (no surprise there, though). if only there was someone who could help him get his grades up before the semester ends....
college au - various x reader (mainly sukuna x reader)
warnings: mean gojo , slight mean suguru , kinda ooc characters , sukuna is his own warning , college/uni au , swearing
w/c: 1000 words + (not proofread)
series masterlist :: general masterlist
join the taglist here to be tagged in future chapters for this series <3
sukuna was fucked.
he messed around last semester a bit too much, spent too many nights partying and getting shit faced. his already mediocre grades got worse and worse, attendance slipping, and now he was faced with the threat of disenrollment if he didn’t get his grades up this term. he might as well kiss his degree goodbye now.
“what about (name)?” gojo suggests, thinking about how you used to tutor suguru. gojo remembered how it was thanks to you he’s gained a real proficiency in the social sciences and even tutors students himself.
“what about her?” he says in response, becoming increasingly annoyed at both the situation and his friends.
“she’s smart right?” gojo shrugs.
“why can’t you or nanami help me?” sukuna groans, ignoring gojo and facing his long haired friend. suguru was sat at his desk, minding his own business, finishing up the references for his essay.
“leave (name) out of this satoru,” suguru sighs, turning to face the two sat in his room and cracking his knuckles. “poor girls suffered enough at your hands.”
it’s true. gojo saw how introverted you were and personally made it his job to constantly mess with you. he revelled in your embarrassment and not knowing how to act, and quite frankly it was mean. everyone knew he wasn’t really interested in you and would get bored with teasing you soon enough, moving onto someone else. but your reactions were quite funny if they were being honest.
suguru was nice enough to you on his own, but never really spoke to you beyond a “hello”, gojo constantly bothered and teased you, whilst sukuna completely ignored you, forgetting you existed. out of the four nanami was the nicest, always respectful and dragging gojo away from you with an apology. the world needed more nanamis.
“you’re no fun suguru. you never cared before” gojo pouts. he suddenly sits up straighter, painting a smirk on his face as he realises something, “are you in loveeeee? does suguru have a crush on plain old (nameeeeee)?” he singsongs.
“you’re insufferable, and don’t be stupid satoru,” suguru fights back, already done with satoru’s nonsense. “she’s not my type anyway.”
sukuna hums, nodding, agreeing with the latter part of suguru’s statement. there was nothing extraordinary about you. your quiet nature somewhat irked him, and he didn’t understand why you were so shy. you were an adult for god’s sake, why didn’t you ever stand up for yourself. the more he thought about you the angrier he became so he made a point to ignore you.
“oi, getou, answer my question.”
suguru really needed to invest in a new lock or even just move dorms altogether so these two idiots wouldn’t bother him. he just wanted to submit his essay and lay down and scroll on his phone, maybe even have a nap.
“kento has a billion jobs and barely has time to study himself, and i don’t want to waste my energy on you,” suguru says, standing up and stretching, his hand dipping under his t-shirt to lightly scratch his stomach. he walks over to his mini fridge and gets a bottle of water out, pointing it at sukuna to emphasise his next words. “you’re hopeless.”
satoru laughs at the scowl on sukuna’s face and decides to take pity on him; uni would be considerably boring without him he supposes. he gets his phone out of his pocket and scrolls for a bit, grabbing sukuna’s phone when he’s found what he’s looking for and unlocks it. he types something into his phone and hands the pink-haired giant his phone back.
“there’s (name)’s number, ask her to help you. she’s too nice and too scared to say no to you anyways.”
sukuna really didn’t want you to be his tutor, he can’t imagine you being able to teach someone like him very well, but he has no other choice. unfortunately, most of the girls (and people in general) in his acquaintance aren’t really the smart and tutoring type. he takes his phone in his hand and stares at your contact details, debating on what to do.
he’ll message you later in the week, he thinks, slipping his phone into his pocket. but for now, he just wanted to take his mind off it.
bonus:
nanami walks up to his and suguru’s shared dorm, tired and so ready to collapse on his bed for a while before he works on finishing his assignment. it seemed like the world’s against him though as he can hear suguru and gojo arguing from outside. great, he thinks to himself. so much for relaxing.
today was not a good day. he was late to work, spilt boiling hot coffee on himself after a customer bumped into him and missed his bus home. his only saving grace was that you rushed to help him, guiding him to the bathroom and holding his arm as the water ran freely on him.
truthfully, he would’ve quit working at the coffee shop long ago, but after finding out you were a regular, he convinced himself to stay. he was busy juggling his second job and lectures and whatnot, so he didn’t get to see you often. plus, the pay wasn’t too bad for part time work, and the customers were generally quite nice.
(if we’re being frank, it was like any other normal job, but nanami needed something other than his infatuation with you to rationalise his behaviour).
nanami was ready to walk away and maybe beg you to let him stay with you for a couple of hours. you’d understand fully having interacted with gojo before, and maybe he’d have a chance to finally ask you out. but the sound of your name leaving gojo’s lips made him stop in his tracks.
his eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion. gojo had your number? why on earth did gojo have your number? and why was he giving it to sukuna out of all people? and why does the thought of either of them texting you make him feel sick to his stomach.
© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
#🌻.sunspell#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#nanami kento#kento nanami#geto suguru#suguru geto#nanami x reader#gojo x reader#sukuna x reader#kento nanami x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#nanami kento x reader
209 notes
·
View notes
Text
You're losing me pt. 5
prev. part. first part.
TW: Gun, violence, mentioned rape, gaslighting, medic is shit
It was your last day on sick leave, so you spent it grading papers, cuddling with Winston, and getting distracted by Kyle's messages and his slutty pictures. You were so thankful for Kyle; he never pressed you for what happened with Johnny, just distracted you.
After you send a picture of Winston you heard the bell ringing and rolled your eyes. You knew Kyle never listened when you said not to come over, even though you really needed that time alone right now. Johnny is an artist, even though he didn't admit it, and so was being in a relationship with him. It was like being in a colorful picture, so vibrant. But since you left him, it felt like someone drained out the color; the painting is black and white, no longer golden.
You went to the door, opened it, and to your surprise, it wasn’t Kyle behind the door. She was there, her eyes puffy and red.
"What do you want?" If she was there to humiliate you, you’re going to throw up. You shortly texted Ky that she was there.
"I wanted to talk to you, I need your help," she sobbed.
Simon always called you one of the nicest people on earth, but right now, it was enough of being nice. "Well, you can ask Johnny for help." You tried to shut your door, but her foot was already between the frame.
"He is the problem."
"What, did he leave you?" you snorted out.
"He threatened to kill me because of the baby." You clearly misheard her. This can't be true, as if you can do anything against Johnny, and as if Johnny would do something against his own teammate.
"Baby?"
"Yes, I'm pregnant, three months." She rubs her nonexistent belly in front of you. Three months? Johnny cheated on you for three months? And a baby? No, this can't be true. Johnny loves babies; he’d never kill a pregnant woman, none of them.
"And he is threatening you?" You asked while slowly trying to pull out your phone again. You knew Si would be here in 4 minutes if you called him.
"Yes, he wants to tell everyone that I raped him, just so I get an abortion." With that, you burst out laughing. This was the worst joke you ever heard. When she wanted you to pull you away from him for real.
"Do you really think I'm that stupid to believe this shit now leave my apartment before I call the police." You already pulled out your phone to dial the number of the police, who are you kidding, dial the number of Simon. Simon and John always explained if something happens to you, call them instead of the police, they solve your problem faster, and that was a gigantic slag-formed problem.
"Bad mistake," she points out a gun to you, calculating. You trained for this situation endless times in school, but it was still different when someone held a gun against you. Would it work to tell her that there are people that love her? Or maybe you should argue with logic.
"When you kill me, they won't forgive you, it's not worth it," you said trying to sound as calm as possible.
"They won't find out," she laughed. God, that woman was batshit crazy.
"Here are cameras," they weren’t recording, but maybe she was stupid enough to believe you.
"They will understand," she said. Maybe she was stupid enough but also crazy enough to not care. There is only the last logical thing you could say to her.
"Then kill me."
"What?" She was surprised at your bluntness, but you knew she couldn’t really kill you, and if Kyle looked at his phone, he would have already been on his way, so you need to get through this for 10 minutes, 10 minutes, and you are safe.
"If you kill me, Johnny will find you, Kyle will break you, Simon will torture you, and John will finish your miserable life, my death isn’t worth this." You slowly walked backward towards the counter, there must be a gun. John put it in there when you first got together. You didn't quite know how to use it, but better than nothing.
"You're right," finally.
"So why don’t we put the gun down and just, you know, talk about it like adults," you suggested, still moving tiny steps backward.
"Stop moving, or I'll kill you," the same words over and over again. She sounded like a broken record recorder. You stopped moving, but this wasn’t enough for her.
"Maybe I should kill your rat, so you listen." Rat? Her gun pointed toward Winston. Fuck, she should better kill you than your baby. You lost complete hope in turning her; she is crazy.
"He is Kyle's dog, not mine. If you kill him, he will be sad." The shake in your voice was evident; tears started to storm out of your eyes; you didn't know what to do anymore.
"Three of four are enough, anyways." Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"I can call them; I'll break up with them, just let Winston be safe, okay?"
"Really, you give up your boyfriends for that rat?" She gestured disgusted at your precious baby.
"Yes."
"Okay, call them," you walked to the counter, dialing Simon's number, close enough to the gun. You really hoped they don’t show a sign that they know; they are SAS; they need to understand, right?
"Hello," good, Simon's voice.
"Are the others with you?" You asked, trying not to tremble; she couldn’t find out what you planned.
"Yes, I put them on speaker, luv."
"I'm breaking up with you, with all of you for final this time. John, you're always putting me in danger, Johnny, you're always with her instead of my home, always on deployment with Simon, and you’re carrying all these scary guns with you that make me afraid, and I hate your stupid dog, Kyle." She looked proud and relieved at you, too stupid to realize. But they were smart, right?
"Okay, just give me back my keys to the office, they’re in the cupboard in the kitchen. I don’t want to see you anytime soon, I will pick it up at three tomorrow, bye." She gained heavily, and all you could feel was relief; you looked at the clock; it was 2:57, three minutes, and the gun. God, you loved your smart boys.
"Will you let me go now?" you asked, and she shook her head.
"Just need to make sure that you never go to my boys again, you can understand, right?"
"I'll move abroad if you want, the US, Germany, Italy, call it and I'll be gone." Before she could reply, she heard a loud bang outside, and that was your chance to grab the gun as she turned around, loaded fucking genius John, but not in safety, idiot. And then you shot, closing your eyes. You never did this before; the closest you came was a water gun at the beach; you didn't hit anything major, only her shoulder, but it was enough for her to lose her stance and fall. Seconds after, the boys went in Simon pulled her to the ground like a bulldozer with John. While Kyle and Johnny ran to you.
"Are you okay?" Both men asked, checking you for any injury.
"I don't feel okay."
"We know, love." You wrapped your arms around Johnny and began to sob. You needed him; you missed him and you were so scared. You knew for a fact he didn't cheat on you after that stunt that woman pulled today.
"We'll take care of her; we will be back soon, luv," Simon said with a devious grin while putting his boot on her to press down on her bullet wound.
John and Ghost left with her, and you knew for a fact your shot would be the nicest thing she witnessed in the next few days.
"I shot someone."
"Proud of you, hen."
"Never shoot again, please, babe; you're terrible at it," Kyle joked, but you still felt shitty. He knelt down, hugging Winston tight. "Oh, you've been such a brave and good boy protecting your mama. Let me take you to the park, pup," he said while Winston barked happily. "You two need to talk this out."
"Only we two now, Johnny."
"Aye, only we two."
"Where do we start?"
--------------------
Taglist: @cod-z , @kaoyamamegami, @postmortem-angel, @jackrabbitem , @sseleniaa , @thigh-o-saur , @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121 @thychuvaluswife
A/N : so I added the picture of Eliot to make up for the Angst I write 😭
For any who has a light belly (do you say that in english or only in German lol?) the next chapter will be half torture of her and the other half Johnny and Reader <3
#call of duty#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#captain john price#john price#cod x reader#cod mwii#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#cod#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#john my beloved#john soap mactavish#captain price mw2#captain price#141#tf141#price#price x reader#price x you#price x y/n#soap x reader#soapghost#soap cod#simon riley#john mactavish x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost#ghost cod
228 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bernard: I still find ironic that Bruce Wayne is married whit and ex-thief, i mean i wouldn't be surprised if she stole something from him too.
Tim: Well i see your point but there was always some good in her, plus, he couldnt leave her, even if he wanted to
Bernard: so...
Bernard: ...Bruce Wayne is a simp?
Tim:
Bernard:
Tim: Well-
Bernard:
Tim: God, I wish I could say otherwise but your so damn right.
Bernard: I knew it!
#tim drake#robin#red robin#bernard dowd#timbern#timber#bruce wayne#batman#selina kyle#catwoman#batcat#batfam#batfamily#incorrect batfamily quotes#incorrect dc quotes
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
down bad fr | f.megumi x reader
@takumifujiwarastan remember how a while back you said here that it sucked how there weren't enough introverted girls, reserved girls etc. SO I did try writing this please enjoy their (gn reader woooo) emotional constipation even though the reticence of their personality isn't really highlighted eurgh
having a crush on megumi is so fucking stupid. it’s driving you insane.
you can’t even talk to him. everything he does, everything he says— your heart leaps like a rabbit he casts, and your emotions soar into a terrifyingly messy mishmash of confusion and yearning and infatuation, and then everything in between.
you feel helpless, vulnerable like this— rendered out of control of your feelings after years of emotional constipation and a harsh strictness on yourself to rein them in like a rowdy horse being whipped during derby matches. you’re a climber, you’re hanging precariously from a cliff with every interaction, a child standing before a blueprint with nothing but toy blocks and a kiddie hammer, a roomba with its sensors malfunctioning— you get the point. those were enough metaphors to delineate your predicament.
well, he doesn’t even like you anyway, right?
but you want him so badly.
you just want to hammer it into his thick skull. to just go, ‘hey, I like you even if you may not like me! just go out with me anyway!’
yet with each interaction you struggle even more. because how the hell do you confess to fushiguro megumi, much less go out with him and become his partner?
for years romance had remained nothing but a velleity, a nice fantasy you could slip into when your mind demanded respite in the form of escapism and jejune daydreams. but now that your adoration for him has made it all somewhat possible, you don’t know what to do— your control is being tended away from you, and the worst part is that you don’t even mind it that much.
spiky black hair and eyelashes of silk pass you by, his scent as clean as freshly laundered sheets in hotels. at the start you had thought little about him beyond him being your classmate and eventually just your confidante. yet gradually, you surprised yourself. and everything about him is attractive nowadays: his hair, his pearlescent teeth, the viridian hue of his eyes— hell, he made even the way he drank coffee look like a model of a man in an antediluvian monochrome film of the sixties. and it was so normal, so average, that you were about to slap yourself for the fact that an everyday trait of his had become something so lovely to look at just because it was him. megumi would hold the cup securely by his lithe fingers, the same one he spouted cursed energy from when summoning his shikigami, before lifting the cup up and bringing the brim to his mouth, his lips that never chapped.
nobara asks whether he’s drinking black coffee to look cool around and attract people. needless to say, at least you were attracted.
you hoped he didn’t see the way your face must have blanked out, gaze transfixed on his eyes as he took swigs from his mug.
why’d he have to be like that?!
megumi continued looking at ozawa, the girl who had a crush on itadori— she was just like you for real, but with double the courage and half the emotional constipation.
you hoped it would work out for her. that way, perhaps you could muster the strength and bravery to do the same, too.
you take another look at him. he’s really pretty. had you kicking your feet in the air and all and then screaming in horror because of it, had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing.
with the help of kugisaki and megumi, ozawa and itadori, the two of them are cajoled to go around tokyo together. it’s the best ‘date’ that the two of them can help the other two have, especially since itadori is dense as rocks (megumi’s probably worse based on your experiences, then) and ozawa is as shy as a touch-me-not flower.
“oh, and [name],” megumi starts while nobara strolls ahead, all set to begin a new shopping spree.
“ah— uh, yeah?” you stammer.
“do you like me? romantically, I mean…” he scratches the back of his neck.
what the fuck. is this seriously happening? right now?
“huh? what? I—”
“no, it’s just that— seeing ozawa made me think. I guess I never considered it an option, but I suppose I have had… feelings for you for a pretty long time…”
“woah. ah, sorry, I meant— sorry, I’m just very surprised…” you scramble, your hands gesticulating all kinds of things in an exaggerated way of taking it back because yes you like him, you like him a lot— “I mean, I do like you! it’s just, fuck— uh, what do I say— I’m really scared. I thought you didn’t reciprocate at all.”
“I could tell. but I…” he hesitates, “I overthought everything,” then with a frown, he goes, “gojo would have teased me if he was here.”
“well, I– uh. we’re lucky he isn’t, I guess?” you pause, “...so what do we do now? are we a thing? are we dating? wait, am I going too fast? I, oh my goodness, I—”
“would you like to?” he asks. your knees are about to buckle with every second he keeps his eyes on yours.
“I…— well, I would.”
“then it’s settled. can I— can I hold your hand, please?”
“...okay.”
with trepidation in your hands and your heart pounding in your chest, you inch your hands closer, saline sweat on them as if you’d dipped it into the sea. he keeps his gaze on yours— they’re as unsure as you are, his cheeks a slight scarlet, his eyes swirling with nervousness but a sliver of anticipation, of joy and relief. so he feels exactly the same as you do, then.
his fingers find yours after a while, tracing along the lines of your palm like a blind man touching something for the first time. you want to learn to love and to memorise each nook and cranny of him starting with his palm, and for once emotional vulnerability is not that bad.
kugisaki’s in for a shock as soon as she turns around. first it was itadori potentially having a partner before she does, and now megumi?
imagine writing this because of being delulu abt an irl crush (i should be studying for my exams.) haha couldn't be me right (i'm so cooked)
#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#jjk megumi#megumi imagine#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#ruer writes#megumi fluff
297 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kissing Their Foreheads [One Final Forehead Kiss]
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: You kiss their foreheads.
♡︎ Includes: Third Years
[First Years]☆[Second years]☆[Third Years]☆[Here]
After your long journey of kissing each of your friends, you find yourself in the same spot where you had found Ace at the beginning of the day. The spot is empty now, Ace long gone after his pitiful display. You only wanted to give him a sweet forehead kiss! Why did he even have to behave the way he did? Couldn’t he just have accepted your affection?
You sit down on the bench, the soft evening winds caressing your skin. The moment feels peaceful as you finally stand alone at the end of such a busy day.
You are aware that Ace knows about your little adventure; not long ago, you sent him a message, and no one is surprised he ghosted you! You were inches away from blocking him! No! Maybe you should tell Riddle about the rule Ace broke last week! So many good ideas, but you simply roll your eyes at his behavior. It’s almost the end of the day; you shouldn’t be getting worked up after him.
“Henchman! I have been looking for you the whole day!” You hear Grim as he jumps on the bench. You watch him as he complains about the lack of cans of tuna, and then you remember the most important thing. Something you should have thought about long before.
Grim, he hadn’t received a forehead kiss yet! How could you have been so blind?
“WHAT? WHAT ARE YOU-” As you take hold of his face, you give him a forehead kiss, a well-deserved one.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
“For how long are you going to stare at your phone?” Deuce’s voice comes from behind Ace. In fact, he had been staring at your message for the longest time ever with an annoyed expression. He knows that at this point it just looked like he had ghosted you, but he simply didn’t know what to answer. “Just tell them that you liked their forehead kiss!”
For more than Ace wants to snap at Deuce and tell him to shut up, he knows that he is right. At this point, he is the one acting like an idiot. He sighs as he slowly starts typing, but everything he writes sounds way too sappy for him. There is no way he can send any of those messages.
Ding!
He hears the message sound as an image pops up in front of him. It’s you hugging Grim and below the message reads: ‘My favorite forehead kiss!’
As slowly as possible, he closes his phone and lowers it down. “That damned cat…”
“You lost to a cat??”
“SHUT UP, DEUCE!!”
@hotaru57 @takimarasukido
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twst#twst wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst reader#twst x reader#x reader#ace trappola x reader#twst ace#ace trappola#twst deuce#deuce spade#twst grim
286 notes
·
View notes
Note
As someone who’s desperately into subby boys I love your stuff. If you find the time would you write something for Rafayel? I love that fishie. 😩
mirror fucking | sub rafayel
includes: dom!reader | gn!reader | strap-on used | blowjob (receiving) | pegging (giving) | handjob (barely mentioned) (giving)
sorry this is so long and it takes a little while to get going!! i’m trying to work on a more to the point writing style but i can’t help waffling TT
i don’t know too much about rafayel atm so i hope i wrote him decently for you | and thank u so much <33! i love writing subby boys so i’m here to deliver to you all
it was common for rafayel to suddenly disappear like this. these long periods of silence usually meant that he was busy working on his next piece but he’d always send you the occasional message when he was thinking about you or felt lonely. with you in his life, it was hard to continue as he used to. he’s so needy.
this time however, his messages were less frequent and when he did message, he seemed uninterested. either he was incredibly focused or his painting wasn’t going well. worrying a little, you decide to drop in on him by surprise to give yourself piece of mind but also because you missed him dearly.
———
walking into his painting room, you admire all the works of art surrounding you but only one was worth looking at. sat at the top of his ladder, rafayel stared at a blank canvas silently muttering to himself. the setting sun’s rays streamed through the windows and made him appear otherworldly. you let out a content sigh full of love. “hey, what are you doing here?” rafayel asks, finally noticing you.
“getting a strong sense of deja vu” you say with a laugh. blocking the canvas from his sight, he turns to you giving you his full attention. “if i fall, do you think you can catch me this time?” he teases. “of course princess.” you retort back. rafayel smiles but it doesn’t feel sincere. he looks distracted.
“come down my love.” you say, holding the ladder for him and extending your hand to him. rafayel sighs and nods slowly making his way down and taking your hand when he reaches you. seeing your expression, he already knows what you’ll ask him.
“i need a new piece for this exhibit i’ve been invited to but… i just can’t think. i’m going to tell them i can’t do it.” rafayel says, avoiding your gaze. bringing a hand to his cheek, you gently move his head to face yours and give him a chaste kiss. you feel his body relax with your touch and as you pull away, he chases your lips desperate for more. rubbing your thumb over his cheek, your heart melts seeing your boy like this. he leans into your hand and holds it there with his, silently begging for you to stay with him.
“the more you force yourself to make something, the less chance you have being successful.” you say but quickly continue before he can cut in with a remark “you’re going to burn yourself out even more and become frustrated. art block is a killer you just need to direct your attention elsewhere.” your other hand wraps around his waist and massages small circles into it.
“i… i really need to make something new. people will get bored.” rafayel quietly says moving his head into your neck and surrounding himself with your scent- comforting him. pressing a quick kiss to his neck, you start shuffling over to his floor length mirror with him still attached. such a baby but you loved how he felt so safe with you. “how about,” you whisper, tapping him to get his attention, “you do a portrait? or even a self portrait you haven’t done one of those in a while.” rafayel slowly lifts his head up, glances at himself in the mirror and goes back to his hiding place. all his motivation had gone and you could tell his self esteem was struggling as a result.
“oh my love.” you say, running a hand through his hair, “i love the cool tone colours you use and the dreamy/underwater look you make so effortlessly.” with your encouragement, he lifts his head again and watches your eyes in the mirror. “those are my favourites. just look at all the colours you could include especially…” you say as you pull him into another kiss “…when i do this.” and gesture at his flushed expression. “that’s my favourite colour.”
his heart couldn’t take it anymore. this was the perfect distraction. oh he’d forgotten just how much he’d missed you and your touch. all he wanted now was to feel you and for you to look at him. “please… oh darling touch me more please.” rafayel begs pressing his forehead against you. with a smile, you snake a hand down to softly squeeze his ass which made him gasp. “woah… getting handsy already.” he tries to say in his usual teasing tone but it comes out more breathless than he’d liked.
“how about, to help you get started, i show you some anatomy references you could use?” you say gesturing to the bag your brought. rafayel could only nod, wondering a little to what that could allude to but letting you go to fetch it. he was left standing breathing heavily and a ‘problem’ forming between his legs which his was quick to attempt to hide. you didn’t reveal what you had brought until you were stood next to him again. “on your knees.” you commanded, motioning with your eyes and taking what you had brought out from behind you. your strap on.
his eyes never left yours as he knelt down infront of you. rafayel patiently held out his hands to help you adjust your harness and kissed your legs all while doing so. “you know what to do now.” you say, playing with his hair with one hand before taking his chin. “of course.” he says with a smile but a little shaky. obediently, kisses the tip before licking long strips up the sides. you loved watching him treat your strap like a real dick. “mm you’re so big” he said with a sly smile. then, inch by inch, he slowly worked his way up your strap so that his nose touched your abdomen. he tried so hard to please you even if you couldn’t strictly feel pleasure from this. he was adorable to watch as he tried every trick in the book to not gag but his teary eyes betrayed him. such a show off.
such a good boy.
“you look so beautiful right now, my love. look” you say and point at the mirror. flicking his eyes to his reflection, rafayel saw just how desperate he was for you. on his knees as if you were his god. he took this opportunity to show off and kissed down the shaft before taking you in the entire way and moving up and down moaning the entire way (which were half fake and half from his attempt of his trousers rubbing against him).
“can you fuck me now? please? it’s been so long.” he begs, rubbing his cheek against your strap. “on all fours sweet boy.” you say, bending over to kiss his forehead. rafayel tried not to appear excited and instead put on a little show of taking off his trousers and bending over for you. “hello pretty boy.” you say as he stretches like a cat to try and tease you. kneeling beside him, you trace your fingers down his body and hook onto his underwear before slowly pulling them down. he shivered at your motion. you reach a hand around for him to coat your fingers while the other flicks his dick causing him to gasp. “d-don’t tease.” he says half confident and half whiny. “sorry but you’re too cute. this won’t take long” you say as you begin to push your fingers into his hole.
rafayel tried to be patient but you’d worked him up too much and it’d been too long. “mmghh that’s enough… i-it’s good.” he moaned weakly grabbing your wrist, “haah- oh goddd please i need youu.”
“okay then if you say so.” you half warn. nothing would be able to change his mind now and to be honest, you wanted this badly too. you really wanted him to feel good. “but one condition baby,” you align yourself with his hole making his try to push his hips back, “you can’t stop looking at yourself.” and with that, you start to slowly push in holding onto his hips. as you did, you grabbed him by the chin with one hand and made him look at himself. “aww what i pretty boy i have hm? you look so beautiful taking my dick like a good boy.”
the praise feels electric but having to look at himself the whole time was embarrassing! he wanted to look at you more. “ohhhhh- mghh-! feels gooddd s’gooodd” rafayel babbles trying to not let his eyes flutter shut. as soon as you bottom out, you start thrusting and aiming for his sweet spot carefully watching him. you bend over his body and leave little kisses on his neck as well as making sure to suck on his ears. they flared red and his moans became whines. “hnng-! c-carefulll sensiti-ivee.” so cute.
“don’t forget to keep your eyes up darling. that’s my pretty boy.” you whisper in his ears which made it increasingly difficult for him to focus on anything you were saying to him. “ohhhh fffuck hnng-!”
“aww look at what a gorgeous boy i have i’m so lucky. not only that but he’s so talented isn’t he?”
his head was so foggy he couldn’t handle it all. he burned at all of your praise and couldn’t stop his noises as you targeted his prostate. “isn’t my handsome boy so talented rafayel?” you ask again. his name sounded so perfect coming out of your mouth. he wished you would keep talking to him your voice was intoxicating. “mmnnn-! yesh y-yesyes.” he whined as he struggled to keep himself upright.
“yes what, my love?” you tease, increasing your pace and biting his ear slightly. “tah-! talent ‘m talente-eddd mmmgghhh gooodd.” rafayel was barely looking at himself now and instead his head hung low as he focused all his strength in holding himself up. it didn’t matter he’d done so well and he was probably weak from shutting himself in for so long. “that’s my hardworking boy. i’m so proud of you, rafayel.” you kissed his cheek, a hand coming round to stroke his dick. the added stimulation was too much!
“clo-oseee c-cum cahnn i?” he slurred, his hips unintentionally started slowly trying to match your thrusts to get him closer. “of course, you’ve worked so hard and done so well. you deserve the world, darling.” you praise him and kiss down his spine. it didn’t take long after your sweet words that he came over the floor and almost lost his balance if you didn’t hold onto him.
rubbing his hips, you slowly pull out and discard your strap on the floor. shuffling around, you sit in front of rafayel and support his upper body against you. “did that help you great artist?” you ask after a little while, moving his hair out of his eyes.
“mmmnn i got quite fuzzy… can’t remember much i might need to look at my references again.” he says teasingly. “oh wait… these clothes… i don’t like the colour they won’t work. maybe you should take them off next time.”
despite his remarks, he nuzzled into your neck, whispered thank you and started whining all over again.
#not super confident with thisss#hope it’s okay!!#dom reader#sub character#dom!reader#sub!character#💜•rafayel#sub love and deepspace#love and deepspace#sub lads#rafayel love and deepspace#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x reader#rafayel x you#rafayel x mc#rafayel x y/n#rafayel smut#sub rafayel#sub love & deepspace#love & deepspace#l&ds#sub l&ds#rafayel l&ds#l&ds rafayel#rafayel love & deepspace#love & deepspace rafayel#💜•maris fics#💜•pegging#💜•fingering#💜•praise
163 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
comrades-across-the-cosmos
Comrades across the Cosmos
wndrlnd
WE’RE IN WNDRLND
mikitype
MIKITYPE
waveripple
Waveripple