#I do no care that he was older but I do care that he was married and casually spoke of hitting his kids

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ we're doing better ]❜

ft. the salesman (gong ji-cheol) x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ your husband has finally been honest with you, but what now?┊3.0k words; prt one (here)

contains: his pov, lots of perspective and lore, love at first sight, happy ending where the reader forgives him, note that sociopathic/psychopathic behavior has no known cure & that this is unrealistic fiction, he can’t be fixed but he can be here <3

➤ author's note: the long-awaited & heavily-requested part two!! the ending is sucky because i didn’t plan to write a part two and because i personally wouldn’t have forgiven him, but lots of you guys seemed to want to. i wanted to write something exploring their relationship, so i hope this is received well & that you guys will enjoy!

“i love you too, i’ll be back in the morning” were the last words you said to him before rushing out the door and disappearing to your mother’s house. that was last night, but it was now early evening with the sun finishing its descent over the horizon and you were nowhere to be seen. he briefly wondered if you were also watching it from wherever you were like he was through the window, knowing that you adored the beautiful array of colors blending into each other and always pointed it out when you were with him. he never cared for it himself and took the sight for granted until you came along. now he’s aching for your presence asking him if he thought it was pretty when you were always the prettiest sight in his eyes with the orange light reflecting on you.

his hand was itching to call you or send a text, but he decided against it. you needed your space, especially after that fateful conversation which left him with regret weighing heavy on his chest. he wasn’t sure what the regret stemmed from, if it was regret from not trying harder to keep his secret, if it was from not being more careful to hide his tracks from seong gi-hun, if it was from attempting to build a normal life, or if it was leading the type of life had in the first place. it was a mix of everything, and he hated the feeling of it.

gong ji-cheol never regretted anything in his life. he didn’t regret spending his days getting a sadistic kick out of playing judge and jury to people he viewed as worthless trash when they lost against him, whether it was slapping people he was recruiting into games they would inevitably die in or spending his free time messing around with homeless people. he didn’t regret getting tangled up with the mysterious oh il-nam and the activities occurring on that island, starting as a guard and working his way up to a salesman. he didn’t regret firing a gun on his own father in cold blood when he unknowingly begged his own flesh and blood to spare him.

he’s a man who was steadfast and stubborn when it came to his fucked-up morals and ideals, always believing from a young age that it made him better than others. there was never a reason for him to change as he got older when he found himself working for a hidden organization that introduced him to the addicting taste of death, paid well, and protected him from the law if the unlikely situation of getting caught by authorities for his crimes ever happened. he never cared to do the right thing was doing wrong was just so much more suited to him, never minding the strict set of rules he had to adhere to as long as he was allowed to freely exercise his psychopathic tendencies without trouble following him. it made him feel like a god at times who was so high above normal people if he ignored that he was still an employee with a boss.

and now he’s sitting in the living room, disheveled and staring at the floor waiting for your return like a dog awaiting its master.

he couldn’t even be mad at you for storming out like that. he’s surprised about how mellow your reaction was to learning the truth of his occupation and how dirty the cash he used to spoil you was, how you didn’t scream loud enough for the neighbors to hear, and how you didn’t call the police— or maybe you had already called them at some point today and his friends in higher places were working to keep him safe. more than anything, he misses you, filled with a feeling of longing he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.

at first, he was only trying to look normal. the people around him started to wonder why a man as tall and handsome as he with money that flowed in like water from an unknown source he kept secret was still single. when people wonder, they start to become nosy. he couldn’t have that if he wanted to keep up the lifestyle he had, so he started searching for someone suited to be his wife. 

to others, he seemed incredibly picky, never reaching out for a second date even once or even bothering to send a polite text saying he didn’t feel a connection. to him, he didn’t think he was picky enough. despite carefully combing through his options and sometimes even hiring private investigators to stalk them if needed, there was always something he missed which was a dealbreaker for him in a relationship: ignorance and stupidity, improper table manners when he reserved at a fine restaurant, running more than fifteen minutes late without traffic in the way, and most importantly for him, asking too many prying personal questions which weren’t relevant on the first date. yes, he understands that first dates are all about getting to know each other, no, he doesn’t find it necessary to talk about stupid things. although he would rather not say anything at all, he’s very particular about how quickly he shares information about himself with others and gets ticked off by anyone who tries too hard to learn more about it (he won’t admit it, but he also gets a bit threatened by it).

by the time the day his first date with you rolled around, he was ready for it to be his last before he lived out his life alone as originally planned. he lost his faith that he would find someone who lived up to his lofty expectations and received news that oh il-nam was dead. the next games were canceled to mourn the loss of the founder, and part of ji-cheol wondered if he should cancel the date as well to take the time to pay his respects. he didn’t think you would be the one and believed there wouldn’t be any difference whether or not he actually showed up.

yet there was something in him that refused to pick up the phone and make up an excuse. it was indescribable like a higher power making sure that he followed the path intended for him. he told himself it was nothing but not wanting to be rude when it was only half an hour before the arranged time and because he didn’t want to pay the cancellation fee, nothing more nothing less. he never cared before if he was thought of as rude to people he didn’t intend to keep in his life for long, and he had enough money to buy the entire place if he wanted to.

so what was his problem all of a sudden?

you showed up perfectly on time, a few seconds before the clock struck, looking beautiful. it’s not a word he uses often. pretty, maybe, but not beautiful, yet it was the first word that crossed his mind when you introduced yourself. he found himself enamored by your presence and everything about it from how you carried yourself to the subtle glitter eyeshadow that made your eyes sparkle to the dainty jewelry hanging around your neck, so enamored that he forgot to accept your outstretched hand and to get up to pull out your seat for you at first.

more than easy on the eyes, dressed appropriately, good table manners, well-educated, never pressing too hard on matters he clearly didn’t want to talk about, you were quickly checking off everything on his list as his partner— although what he was really looking for was to draw away suspicions and your likable personality made you perfect for the job, he could even see you as a companion. even if you were visibly nervous, he didn’t mind, your timidness was adorable actually, akin to a little bunny being fed by his hand.

when he finally got home, he realized he was still smiling when he’s usually constantly reminding himself to do so. he also realized that he lost track of time and came back a whopping two hours later than he expected.

it was history from there, gong ji-cheol, a man who saw other humans as unequal trash, had succumbed to love at first sight, which baffled him.

it made him remember a scene from his childhood, one where he asked his mother why she remained married to his deadbeat father after another night of him not showing up in favor of gambling and drinking instead of spending it with his own family. she embraced him with tears, once again reminding him of her own tale of love at first sight, and also telling him that when you’re so deep in love like she was, you’re willing to forgive them for anything.

he thought she was stupid for that. now he knows he’s truly just like his mother just like everyone said.

you were shy in the first steps of the relationship, quickly realizing that you had become a glorified sugar baby of sorts. he didn’t know how to express his affection through words nor did he have the extra time to spend with you during that time of the year, so he spoiled you with lavish gifts and wealth beyond your wildest dreams. any debts you might have were paid off, one of the nicest condos in korea was bought for you to move in together, your parent's retirement was paid off in full to allow them to stop working, and any other money-related issues were quickly covered by him. you could even quit your job if you wanted to, but you didn’t want to become too dependent on him and wouldn’t know what to do with all the extra time in your day.

it soon became clear there was a boundary not to be crossed, which was not to dig too much into his personal life. if he gave you a curt, general answer to your question, you were not to say anything more about the matter. no one you spoke to about this thought this was too strange, even when you were preparing to get married, because what was there to worry your pretty head about? you love him and he loves you, he was treating you better than a queen, and his wealth spread into your circle of people you cared about with friends getting luxury perfumes and parents getting first-class tickets to wherever they wanted. in a way, they didn’t want to ask any more questions if it meant angering him and possibly not having these things anymore.

you never liked it, but he never cared about it. they were just trivial things and he was perfectly fine with sharing what he had, or at least, that’s what he told you. it was mainly to ensure he was well-liked among them and no one would ever try to come between you.

the only people who ever did were a few snakes parading as your friends trying to steal him away from you, trying to seduce him, and getting too close for his comfort. you were too sweet to notice and always forgave it if you did, but he noticed their lingering eyes and was disgusted. it was the one time he allowed his mask to slip, calling them out for being human garbage with a polite smile on his face as they gasped in shock. if they tried to cry to you about how awful he was to them, he simply told you the truth and encouraged you to cut them off which you always did.

the garden he carefully cultivated of a normal domestic life was flourishing. you were so captivated by the colorful flowers he planted and the butterflies pollinating them that you didn’t notice how dirty his gloved hands were when ripping out anything that didn’t belong like weeds trying to sprout through the soil. he was always sure to take them off and discard them afterward, never daring to touch you with the sins of his life outside of you.

then you fell pregnant after months of trying, and while he was overjoyed at first with renovations in mind to turn one of the extra rooms into a nursery, there was an unease in him wondering if the child would turn out like him: a remorseless psychopath who would one day kill his own father as he did his. he would later by a few books about parenting, hoping that he could prevent that type of future.

time flew by and he hadn’t killed anyone in a while although he was still complicit in hundreds of deaths a year. his violent urges slowly calmed and his hand was only raised during ddakji matches, but even then, they were more gentle than before (which meant that they still stung and made their face swell up, but it was an improvement when in the past, he would sometimes hit them so hard that they could taste blood on their tongue). 

the effects of being a husband and soon-to-be father were changing who he was at his very core, but it didn’t change everything he’s already done.

he was stupid to think he could have such a picture-perfect life with the woman he loved after everything. for someone who meticulously plans out things down to each syllable of the words he spoke, he didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do once he was found out.

the law couldn’t touch him, but he didn’t care about the law, he cared about you and your unborn child. 

he ran his hand through his messy dark locks, sighing in frustration trying to think of a solution as he dug around the kitchen until he fished out an entire bottle of wine. he could manipulate himself out of this situation as he had done countless times before, he’s a snake with a forked silver tongue who could easily get his way just by flickering it, but the thought of lying to you again broke his once unfeeling heart. it would never be the same way again with your relationship tainted with distrust. the truth would have to come out eventually.

oh god, but what would he do without you? 

before he could begin to spiral for the fourth time that day about what would happen if you left him, the familiar sound of a keypad being pressed and the front door being unlocked. he froze in place, not expecting you to come back at that very moment— but he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. he wasn’t sure of anything, simply staring at you when you caught him hunched over the counter drinking straight from a bottle of wine and looking like a child whose mom just caught him sneaking a snack at two in the morning.

“oh god, i leave for a day and you’re already a wreck, what happened to the ji-cheol who’s always put together even when it’s raining?” you approached him casually, reaching up to mess around with his hair until he looked more like his usual self. there was an air of awkwardness you tried to hide and was successful for the most part, but he could read you easier than a book. you were nervous around him now, acting with slight fear and carefulness like you were inching around a predator, and even flinched when he hugged you to feel your presence and breathe in your scent. 

you hugged him back after a moment, looking up at him with your voice shaking, “if it’s really… that… then i understand it would be dangerous for you to tell me, so i won’t ask any more questions… i don’t… i don’t want to leave you and leave our child fatherless…”

if you were any other person in the world, he would have smirked at the fact that he didn’t need to bother trying to manipulate you into staying with him. he would have relished his control over you and how you came back in the end, free to continue killing and asking people to play a game with him to satisfy his sadistic desires. 

but you weren’t any other person in the world, you were his wife.

“you really forgive me? after knowing all that?”

“i guess love really does let you look past everything no matter how bad… at least you didn’t cheat on me as my friends suggested, that would be the real unforgivable offense…”

the topic of his occupation never came up again, but he made the choice to resign on account of it no longer fitting with his current lifestyle. the current frontman, who was an old friend of his, looked upon him fondly for his loyalty, thanked him for his service, and was even kind enough to use his connections to find him a new place to work. it was boring by his standards, but it paid well and wasn’t illegal, so he persevered. he now has plenty of things to tell you about his workplace, from the annoying co-worker who keeps showing him the most random unfunny things on the internet to how the coffee shop downstairs wasn’t half bad. mundane things that made you grin when he told you about his day, which was all that mattered to him.

you soon gave birth to a healthy baby girl with his eyes and your smile. the world became a lot brighter, even with all the sleepless nights of her crying and learning how to change diapers. she was a little joy born out of his love for you. 

finally, you’re both doing better, and he no longer has to hide himself away from you.

tag list!! @tric0rd / @solatiiium / @iloveragdollcats / @sugaremedy / @pear-1206 / @orangutanjazz / @boowiththegoo / @knoepfl / @miaasmf / @queenjang21 / @larissa-slays69 / @munch3025 / @qrstarz / @capital-koreasofia / @swiftieee4lifeee / @liliylikescats / @maryyyswift / @vaenys2 / @bane-y-zane / @dynaloy / @chunkzdeluluwife / @everyonelovestay / @tomhollandtoothbrush

there will not be a part three, thank you for reading!!

[something-like-a-heart]

My best friend is a man who’s thirteen years older than I am—nearly thirteen and a half, in fact—and we’ve been mistaken for a couple many times over the years. This used to annoy me a bit, but these days the balance has shifted a bit more towards amusement, and the last time someone called us a couple in front of us, neither of us actually bothered to correct them. Given that we largely fill the role of “partner” in each other’s lives, aside from the fact that we’ve never slept together, they may have almost had a point in calling us that.

I’m visibly younger than he is, but even when I was thirty and he was forty-three, nobody really seemed to be upset about our age difference. I doubt that anyone would raise an eyebrow now that I’m forty-two and he’s fifty-five. And even if they did, I wouldn’t especially care. We have a strong relationship built on trust, mutual interests, and love. The fact that he was born in the same year as the first successful moon landing and I was born the year they released E.T. somehow doesn’t seem to be especially significant. It just means that there’s a chance that I may have to spend a few years without him before I die, but even then, given our families’ respective average lifespans, even if I do outlive him, it’s not likely to be for very long.

Age differences like ours can come with a few challenges, I won’t deny that, and early on I did occasionally worry that I might be too immature to meet him on an equal level. But our ages are not the most important thing about us, and because we’re so fond of each other we have a significant amount of motivation to resolve any conflicts that may arise.

90% of age gaps don’t matter when you’re a grown adult as long as you don’t have a repeated pattern of dating people barely legal. I would date someone 30 years older than me if I liked them who gaf

[wwooyology]

Scarlet Rosé | C.SN

「pairing」 : fiancé!san x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.8k

「synopsis」 : your neediness knows no bounds, even when he dragged you to an underground party. so you let your brattiness get the best of you and started to tease your dear ole fiance... even when you knew what lies ahead of you.

「genre」 : just pure filthy smut (like god lawd) with a sprinkle of plot, fluff if you squint, mafia boss!san

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, kissing, cussing, petnames (princess...), derogatory names (slut...), daddy kink, mean dom!san x sub!reader, oral (f. receiving), rough sex, bondage, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slight clit play, brat tammer!san, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : this idea came from this video that I saw on Instagram a while back and knew I needed to write a lil smth for it and for my san biased girlies, more specifically for @kitten4sannie, enjoy my love 🖤🙂‍↕️

The dimly lit room was filled with booming music that rattled the floor underneath your heels as you stood next to your fiance’s seated form. Your hand resting upon his shoulder, the diamond on your ring finger glittering under the strobe lights. Moving closer to the arm of the chair, you sat down, crossing your legs as your small red dress crept up your thighs.

San had dragged you to this party at the last second with whispered promises that he would make it up to you, but you were growing impatient. The small amount of alcohol that you drank hadn’t helped any either; if anything, it just made the constant throbbing need worse. Then, when you tried to coax San into going back home, he refused, saying he had to stay to ‘show face,’ but you couldn’t care less about any of that.

“Sannie…” You purred in his ear as you leaned down, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear as your hand crept down his chest. Your manicured nails lightly scrape his bare skin as you slide your hand under his button-up.

San’s jaw tightened as he tried to ignore your antics as he spoke to another respective leader of an allied group. However, his patience was starting to wear thin with your attitude. You had started to push all of his buttons little by little the moment he told you no when you asked to go home.

“Princess.” There was a warning tone in his voice as he spoke lowly, but you chose to ignore it as you undid the top button of his shirt, your lips ghosting the warm skin of his neck. In the next second his hand wrapped around your smaller wrist, halting your wandering hand from going any further and turning his head until he was looking you in the eye, a fire blazing in his dark iris’. “Knock it off, or you won’t get anything but a pathetic vibrator to get yourself off.” He threatened, and your bottom lip jutted out in a pout, your lipgloss shimmering under the dim lighting, and San wanted nothing more than to lick it off.

“But I’ve been patient, and I need you.” You whined, leaning into his shoulder, your breast pressing up against his arm. 

San’s sanity felt as if it were about to snap at any given moment with your attitude, but what finally pushed him over the edge was when those few intoxicating words fell from your lips like honey.

“Please Daddy,”

In record time, he stood from his chair with your arm in his hand, apologizing to the older man and dragging you out of the underground club. He didn’t utter a word as he pulled you towards his sleek black BMW, even as you whined about him being rough.

Walking up to the car, he pushed you against the door, trapping you with his body as he leaned down, face barely centimeters away from yours. The dark gleam in his eyes as they bore into you made your thighs squeeze together, your core throbbing almost painfully.

“Trust me, baby, you haven’t seen rough yet.” His voice was deep, sending a chill down your spine as you stared back at him. However, before you could even utter a word, he pulled you off of the car door and opened it. “Now get your ass in the car.”

You wanted to argue, to push his buttons just a little bit more, but San could see the wheels turning in your head. Reaching forward, he roughly grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you towards him, causing a gasp to fall from your lips.

“Keep acting like a damn brat, and I can promise you I will not be cumming at all tonight.” He growled, lips a breath away from yours, and you wanted so badly to kiss him, but you knew doing so would only add fuel to the fire. Swallowing thickly, you interlock your fingers in front of your body and nodded, but that didn’t satisfy him at all. “Words.”

“Y-Yes,” You stumbled over your words as he squeezed the back of your neck, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth as you chewed on the plush skin.

San’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before releasing you from his grasp and pointing to the car, “Get in.” 

Without another word, you got into the car, fixing your dress across your legs as San leaned in to grab the seatbelt. Even if he was pissed, he wasn’t gonna let his fiance duties fly out the window, so he buckled the belt before shutting the door.

Your eyes trailed his form as he walked around the car, and as soon as he got in and drove off, you knew that you were about to be in for a long night.

–

“W-Wait! Daddy, please!” You cried out, hands tugging on the restraints that bound your wrists to the headboard while San completely devoured you.

He nipped at your puffy clit, causing your teary eyes to roll back, a shudder running through your body, “you wanted this princess. Don’t start complaining now.” He growled against your skin before shoving his face back into your dripping pussy, his skilled tongue working your overstimulated body closer to another release.

“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your fourth orgasm washed over your body, back arching off of the bed and your shoulders straining from the awkward position.

San worked your body through your orgasm before finally pulling away after placing a kiss against your twitching clit. You felt air invade your lungs once again after feeling like you were being held underwater, and your eyes fluttered closed, thinking that San finally had his fill, but boy, were you wrong.

In the blink of an eye, your cuffs were unhooked from the headboard, and you were flipped onto your stomach. San’s grip on your hips was strong as you tried to wiggle away, whining that you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Shut up.” He growled as his hand came down on the fat of your ass, eliciting a loud moan from your parted lips. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes as you buried your face in the sheets the moment you felt the thick tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. “You were the one begging me, ‘I need you, Daddy,’ such a whiny little brat. Now take what you wanted so badly, like a good slut.” 

A choked moan tore from your lungs when he pushed into you all in one go, your eyes squeezing shut when he started at a relentless pace. The only sounds that were leaving your mouth were muffled moans and cries of San’s name and incoherent babbles.

San’s bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he watched his cock disappear into your needy hole, sucking him in like your life depended on it. Your walls squeezed around him, and he knew that he wasn’t gonna last much longer after holding out for so long, but he wasn’t gonna let you go until you were ruined.

So his grip tightened on your hips, sure to leave bruises as he picked up the pace, and your fingers curled into fists above your head as you felt that coil in your lower tummy pull tight. Releasing one side of your hip, he let his hand trail up your spine before tangling his fingers through your hair and pulling your upper body off of the mattress.

“Sannie!” You cried out as the new position had his tip brushing deliciously over your sweet spot.

San clicked his tongue as his lips latched onto your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, causing you to whimper. “That’s not my name, princess.” He cooed in your ear as your head fell back against his shoulder, mind overcome with pleasure.

“I’m sorry, Daddy! I wanna cum, please!” You cried out, bound hands grabbing at his wrist that was by your side.

A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest as your pathetic state, tears streaming down your pretty face as you looked at him. Your pupils were blown out, and your bottom lips trembled as you felt your high right on the tip of your tongue.

“Hmm, are you really sorry, though?” He teased, his pace slowing just a bit, causing you to whine out in protest, pleas falling from your swollen lips. “I find that hard to believe, princess.”

“Daddy, please! I’ll be good, I promise, just wanna cum!” You begged, words nearly catching in your throat when his hand that was holding you up moved down to your puffy clit, drawing sharp circles over the bundle of nerves.

“Cum for me, princess.” San bit the shell of your ear as he coaxed your orgasm closer until you finally tipped over the edge, eyes rolling back, and inaudible moans fell from your lips as your body trembled. 

San smirked as your body melted against his, legs shaking and threatening to give out at any given moment. A groan then broke through his smug look as he felt his balls tighten before spilling deep into your walls; he continued to fuck his cum into your spent cunt before finally coming to a halt.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned back against him, knowing if you moved just a bit, you would fall flat on your face. San peppered gentle kisses all over the expanse of your shoulder and neck before reaching your ear.

“You gonna keep acting like a needy brat every time we go to a party?” He asked, his deep voice making you shudder.

Opening your eyes, you lifted your head before looking at him, a slight smirk tugging on your lips. Leaning into him, you captured his lips with yours in a sweet kiss; his lips were soft against yours as he deepened the kiss. His hand on your sternum trailed up the valley of your breast before grabbing your jaw gently. The kiss lingered for a few moments before you finally pulled back just a few centimeters to look at him through your eyelashes.

“Hmm, probably. I can’t help that I just need my Daddy all of the time.” You pouted, San’s eyes darkened a bit, and his grip tightened on your jaw.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to fuck you straight every time, won’t I?” He smirked, a sinister gleam in his eyes, and you could feel his cock twitching in your pussy, making you whimper softly. “That was an important meeting you interrupted, so don’t think we’re done yet.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked at him, knowing damn well that you had dug a huge ass hole for yourself and you had no other choice but to lay in it.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉��𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[cressidagrey]

I would marry you with paper rings

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary: 

May 2016

How Max Verstappen wins his first f1 race and goes home to show his girlfriend his trophy…and maybe something else too...

December 2024: 

Max brings his family home from the hospital and finally gets to give his fiancée a proper ring. 

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this!

May 2016: 

The roar of the crowd was deafening, but Max Verstappen barely noticed. His ears were ringing, his chest felt tight, and his grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. He barely registered the voice of his race engineer crackling through his headset.

“Unbelievable. Unbelievable, Max.” 

The words didn’t feel real. 

“You are a race winner!”

It felt like they belonged to someone else’s story, someone older, more experienced—someone who wasn’t an 18-year-old kid still trying to figure out the enormity of it all. He blinked hard, trying to process the magnitude of what just happened.

The pit wall erupted in cheers as he drove toward the podium, his hands trembling on the wheel. It wasn’t just any win—it was the win. At 18 years and 227 days old, Max Verstappen had become the youngest race winner in Formula 1 history.

He had done it. 

As the team crowded around him in parc fermé, he couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face. Christian Horner was there to hug him, Helmut Marko clapped him on the back, and Daniel Ricciardo tousled his sweat-soaked hair. The cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing every angle of his historic moment.

And still…the most important person was not there. 

Colette was back in Monaco. 

Hours later, once he finally got to his phone…after he was back in his hotel room, there was a message from her waiting for him. Of course, there was. 

I am so proud of you, Maxie. Soak up every moment, enjoy it. You deserve this, so, so much. We’ll celebrate when you are back home, mon coeur. You were amazing out there today and I love you so much. 

Somehow these 5 sentences meant more to him than any other accolade ever could. 

He stared at the trophy perched on his nightstand. The weight of it—both physical and symbolic—was overwhelming.

He’d spent years working for this moment. His entire life had been shaped around the pursuit of success, of proving he belonged on the top step of the podium. But now that he’d done it? He would give anything to share this moment with the girl he loved. 

Colette had been his constant long before Formula 1 entered the picture. She’d seen him at his worst, supported him when no one else believed in him, and always reminded him of who he was outside the car. 

She was his staunchest supporter and the first person that woul dcall hi out for being an idiot. 

She grounded him, cosetted him, cared for him, cheered for every win and held him after every failure. 

She was the one thing in his life that he could trust unconditionally…that loved him for who he was and not what he could do. 

Of course he had driven this car to victory. And Colettte would never take credit for any of his wins…but Max knew the truth. 

This win wasn’t just his—it was theirs.

The idea hit him in the early hours of the morning, somewhere between the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids.

He needed to show her how much she meant to him, how much he wanted her to be part of this journey—not just as a girlfriend, but as his partner in everything that came next.

But how do you capture something so big?

By 7 a.m., Max was wandering the quiet streets of Barcelona. The city felt different in the early morning light—calm, peaceful. He had no real plan, just an address for a small jewellery store he’d googled hours before.

His Spanish wasn’t great, but he figured he could manage. He needed something. Something to show her just how much she meant to him.

He had bought his sister a handbag the first time he had scored points in F1…but handbag didn’t even come close to being enough for Colette. 

So there he was…in that jewelery store. 

The bell above the door jingled as he stepped inside, and a man behind the counter greeted him warmly, raising an eyebrow at the young man who looked like he hadn’t slept.

“You’re here for something important, aren’t you?” the man asked knowingly, his accent thick but his tone kind.

Max hesitated, glancing down at the glass cases filled with glittering jewellery. He’d never done anything like this before. He had never even bought Colette a pair of earrings on his own. He had bought her other stuff, of course he had. Birthday gifts and stuff for christmas but… “Yeah, uh... I need something… special. For my girlfriend.”

The man smiled knowingly and pulled out a tray of rings. “Something like this?” he asked, gesturing to a selection of delicate designs.

Max’s eyes landed on a gold band with a small, heart-shaped diamond. It wasn’t flashy or oversized—it was understated, elegant, and perfect.

Just like Colette. 

***

Hours later… Max was back in Monaco. 

The trophy tucked under his arm, bag thrown over his shoulder as he unlocked the door to their apartment. 

He wasn’t sure if Colette was already home from work…he hadn’t called ahead telling her either. 

“Max?” and there she was, already dressed in her pyjamas as she stared at him wide-eyed, coming out of the kitchen. 

“I won,” he blurted, grinning like a kid showing off a school project. 

THat was all he needed to say, before she was throwing herself in his arms. His bag hit the floor, as he hugged her and she kissed him, cupping his cheek, rapid fire french that he would never learn to understand as quickly as she spoke it, intermixed with english and her horribly accented dutch. 

And for just a moment Max got to hold his girlfriend…the best trophy he had ever won. 

“I am so proud of you, mon coeur,” Colette whispered and he leaned his forehead against hers, her words a balm to something that he didn’t even know. 

“I brought you something.”

Before she could say anything, he plopped the Pirelli cap on her head, by now dry, though it had been drenched in champagne by Kimi and Seb and he adjusted it until it sat crookedly over her brown curls. “There. Perfect,” he said, his voice raw. 

Perfect. 

Colette laughed, patting it down, and then pulled him into another kiss. “I am so proud. You were incredible this weekend,” she told him fiercely. “Shouldn’t you still be celebrating?” she teased him. 

“I am,” he said, his voice softening. “With you.”

Any celebration with her was better than any other. 

“You want to see the trophy?” he asked her, feeling like a little boy that dragged his karting trophy to Colette for her approval again. 

And just like she had suffered through every time of 12 year old Max showing his trophy off to her…18 year old Max did the same, handing it to her. 

She took it, a metal on metal clink rattling around the inside. 

“What’s...?” she started, tilting the trophy to look inside. Her breath caught, as she fished out the ring from the bottom of it. “Max...”

“It’s not an engagement ring,” he rushed to explain, his cheeks turning pink. “I mean, our fathers would probably kill us both if we got married right now. But it’s... it’s a promise.”

Colette carefully set the trophy down, her hands trembling as stared at the delicate gold ring in the palm of her hand. 

“I wanted you to know that it’s always going to be us,” Max said, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. “Through everything. You and me. This is my promise to you.”

It was always going to be them. Always. 

“I don’t need a fancy piece of paper to tell me what I already know,” Max said softly. “I love you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life with you. In Sickness and In Health and however that whole thing goes.” 

Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him, her lips trembling with a smile. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

He grinned. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.” 

Colette just looked at him, brown eyes warm and loving…and filled with tears. 

“I do. God, I do,” she promised him fiercely. “Go on then. Put it on me,” she teased him. 

His fingers were trembling when he picked up the ring and slid it on her finger. A perfect fit. Like he had somehow known. 

“This is going to be hard to top one day, you know,” Colette told him, wiggling her fingers, the diamond sparkling on her hand. “You do have exceptional taste in rings.”

Max chuckled, pulling her into a hug. “Challenge accepted.”

December 2024: 

The late December air was crisp as Max carefully carried the baby carrier through the front door of their apartment, his movements uncharacteristically slow. He was used to the precision of controlling a 200-mile-per-hour machine, but carrying his newborn daughter… was an entirely different level of responsibility.

Colette watched the whole thing with some amusement and a whole lot of love. Max had already driven so slowly home from the hospital that there had been multiple blaring car horns behind them, but Max hadn’t cared one bit about that. 

She was tired, her body aching from the delivery, but her heart was so full it threatened to burst.

“Welcome home, ma lutine,” she murmured softly, brushing her fingers over the baby’s tiny hand, as Max set the carrier down on the living room floor. 

Max crouched to unbuckle their daughter, who was snoozing peacefully despite the excitement of the day. “I think she’s already a Verstappen,” he said with a chuckle, glancing up at Colette. “Sleeps through the chaos, just like her dad.”

Colette laughed lightly, shaking her head. “We’ll see how long that lasts,” she teased him. “You gonna get the cats?” she asked.

Max nodded, moving towards the bedroom where he had put them just minutes before. 

Colette heard the door open and seconds later, she could feel two sets of feline eyes were already watching from the bedroom doorway —Jimmy, usually, the more laid back boy…and Sassy, the fierce girl with a name that fit her personality far too well.

“Okay, guys,” Colette murmured. “Be nice. She’s your baby sister now.”

Max crossed back over to them, crouching down beside the seat, unbuckling Charlie with ease, his movements careful and deliberate. “You think they’ll be jealous?” he asked, casting a quick glance at Jimmy and Sassy, who hadn’t moved but were clearly observing every detail.

“They’ll get over it,” Colette said with a soft laugh. “I think Sassy’s already plotting her strategy.”

Sure enough, as soon as Colette lifted Charlie into her arms, Sassy bounded down the stairs, tail high and ears forward. She paused a few feet away, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. 

“Hi, Sassy,” Colette cooed, kneeling down to let the curious cat get a closer look. Sassy tiptoed forward, her tiny paws making no sound on the marble floor. She stopped just short of Colette’s knees and craned her neck, sniffing cautiously at the bundle in her arms.

Charlie let out a soft coo, her tiny fist waving in the air, and Sassy’s ears twitched forward in fascination. Then, in a move that made Colette’s heart melt, Sassy stretched up on her hind legs and gently tapped at the edge of the baby blanket, as if to say, What’s this?

“See? She’s already making friends,” Colette said, grinning as she stroked Sassy’s head.

Max, meanwhile, was coaxing Jimmy towards them. The cat was watching the scene with a skeptical look, his yellow eyes narrowed. “Come on, mate,” Max said, holding out his hand. “She’s not going to steal your spot. I promise.”

Jimmy hesitated for a moment before coming the last few steps. Unlike Sassy, who had no sense of personal space, Jimmy kept his distance at first, circling wide around Colette and Charlie as if evaluating whether this tiny human posed a threat to his kingdom.

“Jimmy, it’s okay,” Colette encouraged, holding out her hand toward him. “Come say hi.”

Eventually, Jimmy padded closer, his movements slow and deliberate. When he finally reached Colette, he sat down primly and stared up at Charlie, his expression one of cautious curiosity.

“She’s not so bad, right?” Max said, crouching down beside Jimmy and scratching behind his ears.

Charlie let out another soft noise, and Jimmy’s head tilted slightly, his ears swiveling to catch the sound. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he leaned forward and gave the edge of the baby blanket a tentative sniff, followed by a single, gentle nudge of his nose.

“Oh, Jimmy,” Colette said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re such a good boy.”

Max laughed, the sound warm and full of love. “I think they’ve decided she can stay,” he said, wrapping an arm around Colette’s shoulders.

Later that evening, after Charlie had been fed and settled into the bassinet they’d placed in the living room, Colette found herself staring at the collection of trophies they kept on the shelves over the TV. Max’s career was neatly cataloged there— All the important wins, each moment of triumph immortalized in gleaming metal and glass.

Charlie stirred softly in her arms, and Colette pressed a kiss to the baby’s forehead before stepping closer to the shelves. “Do you see all these trophies, Charlie?” she whispered, swaying gently. “See? these are all Papa‘s,“ Colette cooed. “He has more. These are just the ones that are the most important to him. Your tonton Cha has some too…”

Her eyes slid over the championship trophy from last year…over to the very first one. It was a little scuffed from being handled so many times, but it still gleamed in the soft light of the room. “And this one…this one is extra special. This is from when Papa won his very first race. And do you know what else?” She smiled, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “This is where he hid a ring for me eight years ago.”

She glanced back at her daughter, but Charlie had already drifted back into her newborn sleep, oblivious to her mother’s musings. 

“You didn’t check, did you?” Max’s voice broke the quiet, startling her.

She turned to find him leaning casually in the doorway, his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face. He was still wearing the same hoodie and sweats he’d changed into after coming home from the hospital, but somehow, he looked effortlessly handsome.

“Check what?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“The trophy,” he said, nodding toward the one in her hand. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been eyeing it ever since we came home.”

Colette raised an eyebrow. “You tell a girl you hid her engagement ring in there, what did you expect, Verstappen,” she teased him. 

“You are right,” Max agreed seriously, with a nod, plucking Charlie from her arms to put her in the Moses Basket they had put next to the couch.

And then he plucked that trophy from the shelve, only to upend it until a velvet box came tumbling down. 

Colette’s breath caught as he flipped it open to reveal a stunning ring—a delicate gold band, not unlike the one he’d given her all those years ago, but this time, the diamond was much larger, more brilliant. It sparkled in the light, catching every angle perfectly.

Her free hand flew to her mouth as her eyes welled up with tears. “Max…”

“Shush. Let me do this right,” he teased her, as he got down on one knee. “I had this for months,” he told her. “I thought about giving it to you after the Monaco Grand Prix, then after the championship celebration, but none of those moments felt right. This—bringing Charlie home—this feels right.”

Colette could only nod, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“I know we’ve been doing things our own way,” he said with a small smile. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing. But this... this is my way of saying I’m all in, for the rest of my life. With you. With Charlie. With everything that comes next.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she finally found her voice. “You didn’t have to do this. You already gave me everything I ever wanted.”

“And now I’m giving you a little bit more,” he said seriously. “So. Colette Marie Eugénie Veronique Leclerc, will you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Max reached for her left hand, his fingers brushing over hers as he carefully slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, just as she knew it would.

“You even got the order of my names right,” she teased him, as he stood up and he snorted as he pulled her into a hug. 

“Hush,” he gave back, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the trophy forgotten on the shelf and the ring gleaming on her finger.

In the bassinet, Charlie let out a tiny squeak, and they both turned to look at her, their smiles growing.

“She approves,” Colette said with a laugh.

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Of course she does. She’s a Verstappen.”

As they sat down together, Colette resting her head against Max’s shoulder, they couldn’t help but marvel at the life they’d built. 

It had been a long journey to get here, but every step had been worth it.

[voxslays]

in desperate need of some NSFW dae ho head cannons?? 👀👀

DAE HO — NSFW ALPHABET

A/N: M and X are skipped. Warnings: Smut, P in V, oral, soft!Dae-ho, maybe a little OOC.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

✮ Very doting. Always wants to make sure you are okay. Will wipe you off with a towel and have water on both sides of the bed (he knows how exhausted you are) or will just take a nice long, hot bath with his darling.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

✮ He doesn’t really have a favorite part about you, he just loves you the way you are…BUT…he does like being able to hold and compare your small hands to his large calloused ones.

✮ For him, it’s probably his semi-muscular arms. He loves the way they engulf you as he wraps you in his warm embrace. Truly such a wholesome guy. <3

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

✮ Dae-ho cums a lot. Whether he pulls out or not, it’s everywhere. On the sheets, on you, on him. Even when he releases inside of you, he will watch in awe as it trickles out of your pretty hole.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

✮ He kind of has a breeding kink. He desperately wants to get you knocked up so he can experience having a big family again (like how he grew up with so many older sisters). That and he thinks you would look so pretty pregnant.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

✮ Doesn’t have a lot of experience, but he knows what he’s doing and how to make you feel good. Has had one or two partners before you at max.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

✮ Definitely missionary. What can he say? He’s very Vannilla coded. He loves looking down at your beautiful face as he slowly lumos himself in and out of your hole—Holding your hands as he makes love to you and fucks you silly.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

✮ I can see Dae-ho being a very lighthearted individual during steamy time, making maybe one or two jokes as he fucks you dumb.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

✮ Well groomed, not a lot of hair, but it’s definitely managed well.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

✮ So so so romantic! Will constantly be telling you how beautiful you are as he listens to your wanton moans and suckles on your nipples.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

✮ I honestly don’t see him doing this. Why jerk off when he can just go to you? If you aren’t in the mood though, he will probably just want you close as he does his thing.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

✮ Definitely breeding kink, as mentioned earlier. Dae-ho just wants a big family.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

✮ The bedroom (bed) or the shower.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

✮ Anything that makes you uncomfortable. Dae-ho would be a true gentlemen and is the king of consent. He definitely puts your pleasure above his own.

✮ As for him, Dae-ho doesn’t care for roleplay (why would you want him to be anyone but himself? It will hurt his feelings!) or BDSM. Why would he want to purposefully hurt his partner?

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

✮ Prefers to give. He loves tasting your sweet sweet juices.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

✮ Very slow and sensual. You and Dae-ho don’t fuck. You make love.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

✮ Heavily dislikes them. If you’re going to do it, why not do the full thing?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

✮ Is willing to do (almost) anything to make you happy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

✮ 3-4 rounds. This guy was in the marines, of course he has stamina. Although, he will stop if you pass out before he’s done.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

✮ Prefers not to use them on you or himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

✮ Will tease you with his fingers and tongue only a little bit. Doesn’t want you to suffer too much while waiting for his cock.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

✮ Can get a little loud. Dae-ho will make little grunts, but every once in a while will let out a wanton moan.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

✮ Would put your pleasure and well-being over his any day.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

✮ Like once every two weeks. He doesn’t want to push you to hard or make you uncomfortable, but does love showing how much he loves you through these ‘activities’.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

✮ Always waits until you are asleep, but after that, he is pretty quick to pass out.

[sister-of-sin-claudia]

i voted for the first time this year and tiktok is where I got a lot of my information from. i have no knowledge of how to find these things myself so I turned to people who seemed to have the same moral values as me and listened to them. now that censorship has taken over, I've uninstalled it to avoid propaganda because I'm an easily influenced person and i'm aware of this. I honestly fear for Trump coming into office and I can only hope that he doesn't do permanent damage. i remember him promising people that they would never have to vote again, which is a very concerning thing to hear a president claim (implies that he will continue to lead after his presidency is technically over/ending the democracy). although truly, my main personal concern is what he will do to the environment. especially with a rise in AI usage, our climate will take a fall and the Republican party seems to care mostly about money and power, even at the expense of our planet. I'm an aspiring Zoologist and I just started college but if he takes away financial aid, I might not be able to afford anything past my community college classes when the plan was to get my bachelor's in America and then move abroad for my master's and possibly my PhD when I get much older.

This got rambly but I suppose my point is that community, communication, and education are very important. Buy books if you can, keep physical media, and support each other. Especially those of us who are more privileged, we need to do our part and prevent our situations from getting worse

I know I'm being joke-y about it but I am actually very sad and hurt rn because this ban is just the start of the US government stripping us of our rights! It was never about security risks, it's always been about the rich dickheads in the government not wanting us to be able to speak to one another and spread information about the causes we care about without censorship.

[konoharfts]

Everyone gather! It’s-

Nart Art Dump Time!

Enjoy :) (image explanation under the cut)

I’m back on my BS again so I have a backlog of fandom art from the past couple of months teehee :)

Naruto was my first hyper fixation media and now 10 years later I’m back on that grind baybee~

Anyways, for those who care here’s an explanation for the pictures, since most are hyper specific lmao:

Image 1: random Sakura doodles. Includes toxic yuri SasuSaku and my interpretation of Sakura’s chuunin exam outfit in the fic Pulling My Weight on AO3 (I’m pretty sure it’s by itschoccopuff)

Image 2: fem Sasuke again because I have the disease (lesbianism)

Image 3: OCs for a Naruto themed TTRPG mainly set during Minato’s Hokagedom I play with my brothers. Our party is so dumb I love them. From left to right we got Arashi Uzumaki, his twin Ichigo Uzumaki, and Shisui’s older sister Kiri Uchiha, then on the bottom we got Kakashi (I drew him first so he looks incredibly rough woops)

Image 4: Sasuke in ANBU as Hawk (yes this is a reference to Dreaming of Sunshine by Silver Queen on FF.net)

Image 5: More DoS fanart teehee. I just wanted to draw how I imagined the lucky 7 in the later chapters

Okay now I go disappear again for 6 more months byeee~~

[ttjisung]

BABY l. jeno

camboy!lee jeno x fem!reader

in which jeno finds it easier to destress himself on stream, that is until you catch him

cw: MDNI! smut, unprotected sex, cumming inside, fingering, squirting, another haechan feature cause i want him lowkey, generally inappropriate things lol idk how else to describe it! this wasn't proof read so beware of spelling mistakes (wc: 3k)

If you were to be asked, you’d confidently describe your relationship with Lee Jeno as trustworthy – loyal, even. Yet the truth was that Jeno had a secret he had been keeping for years now, one so outlandish it sounds straight out of a girl’s wet dream. It wasn’t that he thought you’d judge him, he just worried you’d ask him the origins of his secret, and he’d have to explain that it became his channel to take out some stress because of you.

Jeno’s secret was simple and straightforward – for the past year or two, he’d hide out at his apartment every weekend alone, turning on his web-camera and becoming a new identity. He hated calling himself a camboy, seeing it as an impeachment on his own self. Camboy felt too official, he was just a horny young adult looking for a way to let it out. That being said, what complicated the situation was that you were the cause of his need to do so. All of the times you’d compliment him after he’d send a workout selfie, so oblivious to the gym roleplay he’d act out later on, wishing his hand was you in tight shorts and a sports bra. Even something so innocent as saying his hair was cute had him thrusting into his palm and pulling on his own hair in the late hours, acting like it was you in front of him, instead of the hundreds of nameless accounts that would flood his chat. 

Jeno swore he’d get away with his little double-life, knowing you’d be caught in a grave before HotLonelyStuds. That’s why his own world came crashing down on himself during a hangout, when Lee Haechan approached him privately, an evil grin on his obnoxious face. “I have a confession.” The way he stated it seemed genuine, yet the way his eyes glinted towards the older male let him know his intentions were anything but. 

“Go ahead.” “Head? I’m sure that’s what you want, Dr. Lee.” Jeno’s heart dropped at the implication behind the sentence, way too specific to pass as a normal sexual innuendo. It was only when Haechan opened his phone up to his Twitter likes, already flooded with several homemade pornos, pointing out the most recent. Jeno wasn’t even aware that people were reuploading his clips – he swore it was a privacy breach, not allowed on the website he used. He recognized the specific stream, a night where he felt particularly needy. You had told him about a physical you received at your latest doctors’ appointment, and his fantasies ran wild. Admittedly, it wasn’t normal to feel so horny because of something so simple, yet as soon as he imagined himself on top of you, stripping you slowly on a patient’s bed, there was no going back. Albeit weird, he swore there was nothing special about the clip until Haechan clicked on it, of course he did. 

“Fuck… Need you so bad, baby. Let Dr. Lee take care of you.” Jeno’s voice was hoarse, ringing from above as his camera panned down to his cock that was already out of his white dress pants and leaking in his hand. He flicked his wrist gently, agonizingly slow, taking his time and imagining it was your small, delicate hand instead. In his daze, his thumb unconsciously ran over his tip, forcing a gasp out of his throat, alongside an uncontrolled small whisper of your name. The whisper was so light, it could easily be played off as an incoherent moan to anyone else, yet Haechan (who swore up and down that Jeno was in love with you) begged to differ.

“Why did you even watch all of it to find that out, perv.” Jeno’s first response was defense, trying to play it off and even pass the shame onto Haechan. What he should’ve taken into account was that if there was one word to describe the male, it’d be shameless. “Eh, ‘was bored. What matters here is you, Dr. Lee, and your infatuation with a little someone-” 

“Who?” You spoke up behind the two, frowning at the way Haechan jumped up and immediately turned his phone off. “Hey, I wanna see.” You whined, saddened at the fact that you were out of the loop. “It was porn.” Haechan was quick to yell out, patting Jeno on the back and rushing back into the living room. 

“Were you actually watching that stuff, Jen? I don’t care but like… You told me you don’t.” The disdain in your voice assured Jeno about one thing – you could never know the truth. Not only would it freak you out, he felt as though you’d be offended that he’s been lying to you about how truly sexual he is. Being the only two of your friend group that didn’t continuously sleep around, you felt even more connected with him when he’d back you up, telling you it’s normal to be reserved at your age; making you think he relates, when the truth was that as soon as you’d go home and his lights would turn off, his camera would turn on. 

“No, of course not baby. He was just being weird.” The way the familiar nickname rolled out of his mouth smoothly assured you, and you simply nodded with a small grin. “What were you up to before Hyuck flashed you?” You giggled at your own word choice, moving away from Jeno to open the fridge. “Not much, ‘was honestly waiting for you to realize I was gone and look for me.” For some reason, an unusual feeling of unease washed over him at your reaction to his words. You took it lightly, like you take everything. No matter how shamelessly he’d flirt with you, you’d always just smile and look away until the conversation would stray elsewhere. He was sick of acting like it didn’t affect him to see you dismiss him so easily, yet he supposed it was partly his fault, as he never clarified that he meant what he said – you probably just assumed he didn’t. 

“Wanna escape to my place? I’m honestly a bit bored.” Jeno wasn’t bored, he just wanted you all to himself, truthfully. “Sorry, Jen. I have a paper due tomorrow and I’m only halfway done. I was about to head out. Maybe another time?” He simply nodded, masking his disappointment with a shaky breath. Embarrassed from your reoccuring denial, he decided he’d go home anyway.  He had a new idea for a stream anyway, one that projected your relationship as loudly as the rest. It never hurts to do an extra video or two, knowing the pocket change he’d make could serve to take you out for a pastry. 

Tonight, the roles were reversed on HotLonelyStuds, as Jeno’s hand stroked himself quickly, moaning at the sensation. “Take it, fuck. Take it all. Rejecting me when you know you want me? Could’ve been us right now, baby.” His words were muffled, his teeth gritting in an unnaturally stressed way as his other hand reached his throat, pressing harshly. This stream was particularly rough, and although he’d refuse, Jeno knew the true reasoning behind his labored actions. He knew the truth was that he was sick of you ignoring him, when he was always there. Every time you’d complain about your lack of experience, every time you’d cry to him about feeling immature, he wanted to scream in your face that he’s right here! He always has been right there, pliant and willing to help you overcome your inexperience. 

The frustration built more and more, and before Jeno knew it he had come twice, painting his already covered abs white. On his third, he was too immersed to notice the familiar jingle of your spare key – the one he had given you as soon as he moved into his new apartment, letting you know you were welcome any time. 

Clearly, that might’ve not been the case as a loud gasp escaped you. Not bothering to knock on Jeno’s bedroom door, not even having heard his loud groans, you were welcomed with the sight of his heavy dick in his hands, upper body completely bare. Jeno’s eyes were held shut with pleasure until he recognized a stream of light on him that hadn’t been there before, the buzz of his hallway lamp amplifying the already-deafening silence that the two of you shared as you finally made eye contact. In shock, Jeno couldn’t bring himself to cover up. It wasn’t until you shrieked and ran out of the room that he pulled his pants back up, shutting the stream off with no explanation and running after you.

“Baby… I swear it’s not what you think-” “I know what I saw, Jen…” Your frown was making him panic, and he felt tears brimming in his eyes at your words. He was so fucked. “I just… Why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t care-” “That’s the problem!” Sick of ignoring the obvious, he moved next to you, holding both your wrists in desperation. “You never care. Fuck, you don’t even care right now that you saw my dick out. Even less, that it was because of you.” His words sparked confusion in you, understanding what he was saying but refusing to believe what he insinuated. Surely, Lee Jeno hadn’t been fucking himself in front of a camera because of you. How would that even work?

“I don’t even care anymore, either, Y/n. Don’t care that you caught me, because maybe at least for those three seconds that you saw me, you might’ve had a small part of you in your head saying it’s hot.” “I don’t get it, Jen.” “Yes, you do.”

It wasn’t until you felt Jeno’s breath on your face that you realized how close he had truly gotten, and it was only when he grabbed your wrists that you realized, maybe it doesn’t feel so bad to be held by him like that.

Against your better judgement, your next action was brash as you cupped his face, pulling him in towards yours. The kiss was messy, Jeno’s teeth biting your lips until they began to feel sore. His arm snaked behind your back, lessening the space between you until there was nothing. “Gonna show you what I’ve been doing, baby. All for you.” “W-wait, Jen.” Before he could even push you onto the couch behind you, you pulled away. With every step you took, Jeno’s heart broke more, and his anger grew. Who were you to kiss him, and then reject him not even a minute later? 

In his fury, Jeno failed to realize what you were truly doing until your hand found his and you led him back to his room. His mind became foggy once he saw you approach his computer, searching for something. “Where is it, Jen?” “Where’s what, baby?” “The camera.” At your words, his eyes widened. There was no way you were really doing what he thought you were doing. There was no way you were going to let him fuck you in front of his viewers. 

Feeling as though the opportunity would pass at any second, Jeno jumped up quickly, gently pushing you aside to open the website and program the webcam to turn on. Soon after, the red flickering light on his computer confirmed the fact that it was on, and his hands were back on you, sliding down towards the back of your thighs and pulling you onto him. 

The kiss grew heavy once more, Jeno so focused that he didn’t even give context to his viewers who had never seen him with another girl before. Had he read the chat though, he’d be pleasantly surprised to see the positive feedback. Maybe he would’ve even seen Haechan’s texts that were flooding his phone. WTF? I TOLD YOU, YOU WHORE, that quickly progressed into encouragement, fuckk dude, lift her shirt up a bit, always wanted to see her pretty tits.

Unknowingly, Jeno fed into Haechan’s perversions as he also grew tired of the fabric holding you back from him. His big hands held onto your waist before lifting you up and turning you around, so you’d be sitting on his lap facing towards the camera instead of him. The light whimpers you’d let out at his every move gained traction from the chat, who were now spamming comments asking Jeno to fuck the shit out of you. Well, who was he to deny his fans?

You felt Jeno’s lips attach to your neck, as well as his long fingers slipping under your shirt, cupping your bare tits. He hated the fact that you never wore a bra near him, leaving little to his imagination when he wasn’t allowed to touch you. A shit-eating grin replaced his focused expression as he heard your breath hitch when he finally pinched your nipple, stopping for a second to effortlessly rip your shirt off over your head. Now exposed and riddled with goosebumps, Jeno sucked harder, leaving blemishes and marks all over your shoulder. His hands tweaked each nipple, pulling harder to draw more reactions from you.

This time, instead of a gasp, you simply grinded down on him out of instinct, the feeling finally pulling a moan from Jeno’s own throat. His chest still bare from when you had walked in on him earlier, pressed against your back as he held you close, pulling your little shorts off alongside your panties in one swift move. 

You were embarrassingly wet, hating yet loving the way Jeno stared at you through the screen of his own computer. He watched you with hunger in his eyes, as if he was going to devour you, and the worst part is that you began to like the idea. 

Your eyes shut close as you felt his fingers run down your slit, wetting them before he bullied two into you at once. You winced from the pain, not having time to recover before Jeno was thrusting in and out of you. His frustrations escaping him in the form of passion as his other hand planted gentle circles to your clit. Your cunt began to clench around him, a pit in your stomach forming as you let out moan after moan. It was only when he added another finger that you squirmed, the pit fully dropping. The shock on Jeno’s face was evident as a clear liquid covered both you and him once you came. Never in his life would he have expected you to squirt. He didn’t let out though, continuing to thrust his fingers in you until you fully rode out your high, clawing at his hands from the overstimulation.

Although he stopped, the breath you were catching got stuck in your throat once you felt something much larger than his fingers prodding at your cunt. He was big – honestly not a shock to you, who always heard him brag to the rest of your friends before he swore celibacy in solidation with you. Nothing could prepare you for the feeling of his tip pulsing in you, or his strong arms wrapping around you to hold your inner thighs, spreading you out to the camera, full pussy on display.

Hearing your gasps, Jeno stopped to let you adjust, yet it didn’t last long as you clenched around him. Albeit slower than he wanted to, he entered inch by inch until his cock was fully enveloped by your heat. You felt so good, how he knew you would. 

“‘Gonna move now, baby. Hold on to me.” You nodded although your eyes were painfully squeezing close. Jeno couldn’t take the slow pace as he thrusted in and out gently, and you granted his wish as you looked up towards his direction. “Y-you can move, Jen.” His moan was loud as he finally bottomed out, not nearly in as much control over his actions as he was before.

As soon as your pained whimpers shifted to soft gasps, he finally sped up, holding onto your thighs with a bruising grip. His moans were muffled as he whined into your neck. You felt every ridge and vein on his cock, stuffed deep inside of your cunt. Looking at the computer’s display, you felt yourself clench even more at the sight. With a clear view of Jeno’s face, the way he bit his lip and shut his eyes, you felt closer than ever. Jeno was close behind, not being able to take the tight squeeze you had around him anymore.

His pace fastened, thrusting up into you, pistoling in and out with desperation. “So good, fuck baby. You’re squeezing me so tight, ‘wanted this as bad as me?” Your fucked out face was evident as you simply nodded your head, eyes rolling up into your head. With one more hard thrust, you came once more, followed quickly by him. The feeling of his spent shooting inside of you fogged your mind up, and you had to clamp a hand to your mouth to silence yourself. 

Regaining his breath, he lifted you until his dick was fully out of you, laying you comfortably aside before standing up and approaching his laptop. Waving with a successful grin on his face, he shut the computer off. Putting on the nearest boxers on his bed, his next destination was the bathroom, where he gathered a warm wet towel to clean you up. 

You weren’t asleep per se, when he came back, yet your refusal to open your eyes accompanied by your lack of speech told Jeno that you were too exhausted to function, so he let you lay down. In truth, he always dreamed of spoiling you, taking care of you after fucking you to sleep. The only indicator that you were still awake was the small squeeze you gave his hand when he laid behind you, swelling his heart with several emotions. The moment was perfect, one that would forever be remembered in his head as heaven, until he picked his phone up to check the time. 

Can’t believe she squirted… screen recorded all that by the way dude, never thought I’d be so turned on watching you both lol

Jeno didn’t think twice before blocking Haechan’s contact, putting his phone down and cuddling back into you.

a/n: haiii guys i just realized i haven't made anything about jeno yet and ugh i was watching the poison track video he looks so goodddd that look is what i had in mind while making this i hope you guys enjoy :3

[eshehdafah]

Coming back to this over a month later after a 20m scroll back through my blog specifically to find it. I said I would talk about this, and I will.

I created my first proper OC, Stella, at age 17, in Jan or Feb of 2016. Xenoblade X was *the* game for me at the time, and I spent a few hours messing around with the character creator. I'd made a different 'character' to actually do the story on, but he didn't feel...right. So I did my work and moved on.

Stella was heavily inspired by Black Rock Shooter, one of the first anime I watched. I took my bitterness at my school experiences, all the bullying and exclusion and boundary-invasions (the last of which being by adults too), and gave it all to her. She had a very barebones backstory of her time on Earth, and her friend group, that she had trained up herself to be adequate combatants, all perished in an incident she blamed herself for. Given how specific this version of her backstory is to the world of Xenoblade X, I don't feel that this is an appropriate place to expand upon it.

She was hurting. An open wound. She fought viciously, ran headlong into danger heedless of her own life, and was at times very jaded and pessimistic. There was an AU going around the fandom at one point that I threw her into, turning her into a wrongfully-assigned criminal on the run in a world where the rules said she had to be erased from existence, even though everyone knew she had done nothing wrong.

How appropriate that I came out as trans a few years later.

Stella has been with me as a character for 8 years now. She's grown into a compassionate soul, ready to defend those she cares about and those who need that help. She still fights viciously, but it's now less because of a desensitisation towards violence, and more because she knows she *has* to fight her hardest no matter what.

One thing she won't do is lay down her life for someone else. She has a drive to not just survive, but to *live*, for herself and for others, to see what tomorrow will bring. That's more than I can say for my current state, and for most of the 26 years of my life so far. But it's what she deserves.

I sometimes think back to that time in early 2016, creating her as a character. Did I know I was choosing the path my life would take? Of course not. I was just making a character that felt more comfortable for me to play. But I took her name as my own, and her ambitions and goals as my own. I put her in situations, not ones made to harm her, but ones where she can do me proud.

I've sent her back in time to do it all over again, armed with the power and knowledge to save everyone (within narrative constraints of course, Fhail Ahm Lohs Daih is a story I pride myself on with regards to respecting and understanding the source material). I've played her in multiple TTRPG campaigns, and in each one she's an absolute min-maxed powerhouse, a force of nature, my GM and I working together to make her fit into the worlds.

When I ran my own campaign set in Bleach, I let that older side of her out, her power and traumas manifesting as a Bankai that forced her to (harmlessly, but symbolically) self-harm in order to release it. It was incredibly cathartic to me to be able to explore that side of her character, the side that did not value her own life and would sacrifice it for others in a heartbeat. I laid that portion of her to rest with that campaign, and both me and her feel all the better for it.

She continues to get development to this day. Her main home now is in FFXIV, but with Xenoblade X Switch on the horizon, I plan to make her again there. I wonder how her interactions with that world will change nearly a decade later.

I have other OCs too, of course. Arven, Candice, Ashe/Camelia. Arven is more confident and flirtatious, and specialises in fire magic. Candice, a character created for a 3-year-long campaign and never used outside of it, began as a teenager who was unsure of her place in the world, and grew to become something more. And Ashe/Camelia, a character I originally created as a result of trauma I went through in 2020 with both family and former friends, is now the one who holds much of the bitterness and edge that Stella used to carry. Kiriya, the lifeless shell that Stella took over and repurposed the body of to her own ends, will never return to this world, and thus I do not count him among my OCs, even if I owe him a life debt for helping me take those first steps of self-discovery.

But Arven is not who I want to be, she's an idealised partner for Stella with little development in regards to any flaws or shortcomings. Candice is the childhood I never had. Ashe, an identity assumed, is but a false name for Camelia, the scared little girl at the core who wants to scream at the world and ask it why life is suffering and cruelty. They all help me shoulder my burdens in different ways.

And Stella has been here since the start. She means more to me than I could ever put into words.

actually creating an oc at 16 and not really thinking much of it at the time but then having no choice but to carry her with you in your soul as you experience the next 10 years of your life and your first foray into adulthood and you return to her again and again in moments where you need comfort and familiarity and you wait to hear what happens to her next meanwhile everything is happening to you at once and next thing you know you're 26 and she's outgrown you by a decade but she's wiser and softer and less angry and so are you and there are lines at the corners of her eyes and you have them now too and you hear her voice again and it makes you feel like you're 16 sitting at your dad's computer desk again and its sad because you're not sitting there anymore and you never will again but its okay because she got the happy ending she wanted and you know that you will too. anyway.

[deansbeer]

✷ ◟ LAZY DAYS & LOADED TENSION ৎ᠀

library introduction minors do NOT interact!

SYNOPSIS. a lazy day with dean takes an unexpected turn when the tension ignites into an intense, passionate moment between you.

WARNING(S). heated make out session | f!reader | grinding | telepathic!reader | playful banter | ass squeezing (?) | domestic fluff | best friends to lovers / idiots in love trope | reader's a HUGE britney spears fan | older!dean | movie date | mentions of the DEAN CAVE | mentions of a gun | filthy semi-smut.

KARI'S 🗒️ NOTES. this was all heavily inspired by bree's & nat's lil monster <3 who i oh so love sososo much❗️get ready for some actual smut between these two on dean's bday (JAN 24) so for the next three days u will only be getting the cutesy awkward stuff (except for this one).

it's a lazy day in the bunker, one of those rare moments where the world outside seems to pause, letting you all take a breath. sam had gone out for his usual morning run, leaving dean behind, who you know is likely at the table cleaning his guns. bolt is curled up in his crate by your nightstand, fast asleep, his little nose twitching occasionally as he dreams.

you, on the other hand, are in your own little world. britney spears' gimme more is blasting through your earbuds, taking you somewhere far from the dimly lit bunker. your feet are bare, toenails painted a soft baby pink, and you're swaying to the music as you tidy up your cluttered room. you're wearing light blue high-waisted mom jeans, slightly loose around the ankles but hugging your hips perfectly, and a white baby tee with nothing underneath. the cool air in the room makes it so your nipples peek through the thin fabric, but you don't care—it's just you, after all.

your hair is set in pink plastic rollers, bouncing slightly as you move around, shimmying your hips to the beat of the song. you're lost in the lyrics, mouthing along as you pick up bottles of hair products, tossing them into a little basket by your tiny vanity.

the door to your room is open, but you don't think much of it. it's just dean here, and he's doing his own thing. you spin around slightly, half-dancing as you grab another bottle of mousse from your bed, when you feel it—a slight rub against your hip.

your body freezes, your heart jumping into your throat. instinct kicks in immediately, and you yank the earbuds out of your ears, the sound of britney's voice cutting off abruptly. your hand flies to the drawer of your tiny vanity where dean's gun sits, the weight of it familiar in your hands as you whip around, aiming it at whoever—or whatever—is behind you.

"whoa, whoa! easy there, sweetheart!"

the voice is low and familiar, and it takes you a second to realize it's dean. his hands are up in mock surrender, a calm look on his face as he steps closer, gently lowering the gun in your trembling hand.

"dean!" you scold, your voice coming out in a mix of relief and irritation. "what the fuck? you scared the crap out of me!"

he smirks, clearly amused by your reaction, though there's a softness in his eyes that lets you know he didn't mean to startle you. "sorry. didn't think you'd pull a gun on me."

you huff, setting the weapon on your vanity as you glare at him. "what do you want?"

he shrugs, leaning casually against the vanity like he doesn't have a care in the world. "finished cleaning my guns. thought we could watch a movie or something."

you cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "you interrupted my britney spears concert for a movie?"

he chuckles at that, the sound low and warm. "yeah, well, figured you could use a break from… whatever this is." he gestures vaguely to the rollers in your hair and the half-empty bottles of hair and makeup products scattered around your room.

you roll your eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "fine, but give me a minute. i need to take these out and clean up."

"don't take too long," he says, pushing off the vanity and heading out the door and over to the dean cave.

once he's gone, you shake your head in amusement, pulling the rollers out one by one. your hair falls into soft, bouncy curls, the kind that make you feel like you've stepped straight out of an '80s movie. you run your fingers through them, fluffing them up a bit as you glance at yourself in the mirror. satisfied, you clean up the rest of the mess in your room before heading out, walking barefoot down the hall toward the dean cave.

you walk on your tiptoes, your curls bouncing with each step as you run a hand through them, feeling lighter than you have in days. when you step into the dean cave, you stop short, your mouth falling open slightly.

dean has gone all out.

the coffee table is covered in snacks—your favorite peanut m&ms, kettle corn popcorn, and a glass of wine poured into one of the fancy glasses you love so much. there's beer for him, of course, and a few of his own snacks off to the side. the couch has been replaced with a new, large u-shaped one, big enough for the two of you to sprawl out comfortably.

he's already sitting there, legs propped up on the coffee table, a beer in one hand and a bowl of popcorn in his lap. his other arm is draped casually across the back of the couch, and when he sees you standing in the doorway, his lips curl into a smug smirk.

"what do you think?" he asks, his voice teasing but with an undertone of pride.

you shake your head, a giddy laugh escaping your lips as you walk over to him. "you really know how to spoil a girl, winchester."

"only the best for you, sweetheart," he says, his tone half-joking but his eyes soft as they follow your movements.

you sit down beside him, tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for your glass of wine. the two of you settle in, the movie starting up on the screen as you sip your drink and munch on popcorn.

a few minutes in, you realize you've unconsciously gravitated toward him, your shoulder brushing against his as you lean against the couch. his arm stays where it is, draped across the back, his fingers just barely grazing your shoulder.

and then, somehow, everything shifts.

you're not sure how it happens, but one moment you're watching the movie, and the next you're straddling him, your fingers tangled in his flannel as his hands grip your hips.

his lips crash against yours, the kiss messy and desperate, all teeth and tongue as the two of you lose yourselves in each other. your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his t-shirt, while his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing firmly as you grind against him.

the friction is almost too much, denim against denim creating a delicious pressure that has you moaning into his mouth. his tongue tangles with yours, the kiss growing more heated by the second, and you can feel the slight scruff of his beard scraping against your skin in a way that only makes you want him more.

your breathing is heavy, your lips swollen as you pull back for a moment, but his hands keep you in place, his grip firm but not rough.

"you're so beautiful, baby, so fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with desire.

you don't respond—not with words, at least. instead, you crash your lips against his again, pouring everything you’ve been holding back into the kiss.

saliva drips down your chins from the intensity of it all, but neither of you care. all that matters is this moment, the weight of his hands on your body, the taste of him on your tongue, and the way he's making you feel like you're the only thing in the world that matters.

and for now, that's enough.

SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @lustagel @rafespreciosa @jasvtsc @voidsuites . . . ☆

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hiii! i was wondering if you could do the salesman / gong yoo but make him a professor at a prestigious university, and his student is struggling. but there’s plenty of tension between them, so he invites her over hehe. i’d love to see your take!

key words: older man/younger woman, praise kink, some bdsm, hair pulling, dom! gong yoo, sub! reader, sexual tension, body worship, creampie (maybe), aftercare

professor

MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI | MDNI

A /N: ADORE THIS. Sorry it took a while ):

WARNINGS: age gap, p in v, professor x student (ALL OF ARE AGE), Sir kink, praise kink, professor kink, bondage (tying up hands w/ rope), unprotected sex, creampies

MASTERLIST

Every day, like clockwork, you sat in the same exact front seat, directly in front of him. You batted your eyelashes at him innocently, biting on the tip of your pencil and creasing your eyebrows in that adorable way when you were confused.

You’ve always been one of his favorite students. You were smart, you were kind, respectful, but fuck, you were hot, too. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Not when you stared at him at like that. Not when you looked so perfect to ruin.

And when you came up to him after class, pleading for help and tutoring from him, well, he felt like it was all falling into his lap.

“Miss Y/N.” He spoke when you stood in front of his desk, small smile making its way onto his face. He ran a hand through his hair, subtly looking you up and down before leaning back in his chair. “What can I do for you?”

“Sir,” you nodded your head, giving him a polite smile as well. “I was wondering if you would help me with something… I’m not sure I quite understood what we were talking about today,” you spoke, pausing and looking at him.

“Go on.” He nodded, interest piquing by the second.

“Well, I was thinking, could you perhaps better explain the subject to me after school, or something like that? It would be very beneficial, I think, to hear it from you rather than a student.”

“You’re asking for tutoring?” He asked you with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, and he thought for a moment. What better opportunity would he have?

“Alright. Sure.” He agreed, and you found yourself smirking to yourself as he began to write down his address on a piece of paper, before handing it to you. His next class of students began to fill in, and you took that as a cue to leave.

“Thank you very much, professor!” You spoke as you left, giving him a wave. He gave you a smile and small wave back, turning to his new class, clearing his throat. He couldn’t contain the smile on his face as he began to teach his next class.

Later, you pulled up to the address on the note. Your nerves were jumping every step you took closer to his house.

He could have invited you into his office, he could have invited you anywhere on campus, but, no. He invited you to his house. He knew what you wanted, and you knew what he wanted.

You bundled your hand up into a fist, raising it and rapping at the door quietly. It wasn’t long before he opened it, peeking out before opening it fully, inviting you in with a warm smile, cup of coffee in hand.

“Miss y/n.”

You gave him a smile back, taking off your shoes as you entered. He sat in his sofa, motioning for you to follow and do the same. You sat next to him, sitting up straight with your hands in your lap.

“So,” he leaned down to the table in front of him, putting his cup down and flipping the pages of a textbook. “Where would you like to start?” He asked you, turning to you.

You began to ramble on, about some subjects you could start with, about subjects you didn’t understand completely.

He listened, nodding as he flipped to the proper pages, and opened it to what you were talking about.

“You wanna go ahead and read that for me, sweetheart?”

The nickname caused your cheeks to warm up and your eyes to widen slightly. You blinked rapidly, before stammering out.

“U-uhm, yeah, yeah- sure.” You nodded dumbly, and he couldn’t help the small smirk that made its way onto his face.

“Just read the page.” He told you, you nodding and moving, grabbing the pages and reading them in your head before he let out a ‘tsk.’

You paused, looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Out loud.”

You stared at him for a moment, before turning around, squirming where you sat when you felt the denim of his jeans rub against your bare thighs. The couch was small, so you thought nothing of it, at least, not until he slowly moved his hand to your leg, placing it on your knee as you spoke out loud.

You began to stutter through the words, feeling your cheeks heating up. It felt as if though every single touch you felt from him was electric.

“Uhm- this leads to the- to the…” you trailed off, breath hitching when you felt his hand trail further up, testing the waters until they reached the underneath of your skirt.

He looked back at you, watching your reaction as his hand paused at your panties, a small smile on his face.

Fuck it.

You leaned in closer to the man, book now completely forgotten as his lips were against yours. Everything that told you this was wrong, screaming at you that this wasn’t allowed, was completely erased from your brain.

You put your hands across his chest, his hands going to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your tongues danced together, the soft moans falling from his mouth sounding heavenly to you.

You both parted for a moment, catching your breath, both of you staring at each other.

He wordlessly stood up, and you followed him to his bedroom. The door was barely shut behind you before he threw you down onto the bed, you letting out a soft giggle when he crawled on top of you. He leaned down again, his lips hovering against yours as he murmured softly to you.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He told you, soft pants falling from his mouth.

You stared up at him, wide eyed, with a look that made him want to destroy you.

He was the one to take your shorts off, a small grin forming on his face at the sight of your cute lace pink panties. You could feel the heat going to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding you.

“These are cute.” He mumbled, tinge of amusement in his voice.

“Stop!” You whined out, him letting out a chuckle. He could see the way you subtly clenched your thighs, trying to get some sort of friction.

“So impatient, hmm?” He teased.

“Please, professor.” You spoke with a pout on your face.

His eyes widened now, swallowing thickly at the name. He darted his tongue out, licking his lips and another grin appearing on his face. He liked that.

He lowered himself down so that he was face to face with your glistening pussy, smile on his face as he ran his fingers through your folds.

His thick finger found your hole, looking up at you before pushing two of them in, causing you to throw your head back against the pillow, which caused him to grin to himself as he pushed his fingers further into your walls.

He curled them up, grin remaining on his face as he scissored them, and thrusted them in and out of you, feeling you clench down on his digits.

His thumb moved to press on your clit, pressing down on the delicate button, causing you to let out a whine. He swirled his thumb in a circle, all while still thrusting his fingers in and out of you.

“Professor-“

“Mhm…cum for me, sweetheart.” He told you, knowing what you were going to say before you could. He coaxed the first orgasm out of you, still circling his thumb on your clit as you rid out your high, your legs spasming as you came around his fingers.

He slowly removed his hands from your walls, smile on his face as he looked up at you, sticking his fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits, sucking off the wetness that came from you.

You watched in awe, jaw slightly dropping at the sight in front of you.

He cracked a smile at your reaction, moving up to give you one more quick kiss on your lips before moving back.

He moved to unbutton and take off his pants, you watching him curiously. Fuck, he was built, you thought as your eyes shamelessly scanned his abs.

He now was only in his boxers, before eventually, he threw both of those off as well, discarding them in the room while you took your shirt off as well, arching your back to reach for the back of your bra and unclipping it.

While you were doing that, he moved to the side of his bed and began to rummage through his drawer, pulling out a bundle of rope.

“Sir-“ you began, but were cut off when he grabbed your wrists, putting them to the headboard, and began tying them together to his headboard expertly. He was quick and precise, tightening it around you. You looked up at him, confused, but he just smiled down at you.

He wasted no more time to slap the tip of his cock onto your folds, a gasp escaping your mouth as he began to slowly inch his length into your hole.

You wanted to touch him, to wrap your arms around his neck, but you couldn’t. He stared down at you, watching you struggle against the restraints with an amused expression on his face. He was enjoying this.

“Fuck, such a good girl.” He rasped out, his voice making your head spin.

The voices in your head, the ones that told you that this was wrong, suddenly disappeared as soon as you felt him bottom out into your cunt. His hand went to the headboard, holding it for stability as he dragged his cock out of you, before harshly thrusting back in.

Your mouth opened to form an ‘o’ shape as he snapped his hips against yours, a moan falling from your lips.

The groans that came from him and the cries coming from you reverberated in the room. With every snap of his hips, you grew needier. His hand that wasn’t on the headboard moved to your pussy, and began to rub on your clit, rubbing circles fastly.

“C’mon, cum for me, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

That was all you needed, you letting out a louder cry as you came around his cock, this triggering his own orgasm. He let out a raspy groan, mumbling “shit,” to himself as he painted your walls.

He watched as his seed mixed with yours and it fell down to your legs, an idea popping into his head as he pulled out for a moment, before stuffing his cock back into your entrance, pushing the leaky cum back into you, smearing it all over your pussy with a proud smile on his face.

“What?” He asked as if he was innocent when you let out another whine at the feeling. He pulled out once more, looking down at you.

Your body was completely spent, your wrists aching and your clit puffy from the stimulation. He may have been older, but fuck, he knew what he was doing.

He looked back at the restraints on your wrist, moving over towards them, undoing them easily. You let out a sigh of relief, going to massage your wrists.

“You alright?” He asked you, posture straightening as he stood up, beginning to put his boxers on.

“Mhm.” You spoke with a dazed look in your eyes, and a soft smile on your face.

He let out a chuckle, and looked around for a moment, deciding whether or not he should even be doing this. He decided that he’d already crossed that line, and that at this point, it didn’t matter:

“I’m gonna go run a bath for you.” He told you, before leaving you in the room, you hearing the faucet in the bathroom run.

Your mind was racing with thoughts. You just fucked your professor. Your very hot professor who you’ve had a crush on for months. Holy shit. Was this even real? He just came in you. Maybe you should-

Your thoughts were interrupted when he picked you up bridal style up off of the bed, his touch surprisingly gentle as a contrast to his movements before.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lowered you down into the tub, the warm water underneath causing your body to calm down. You nestled deeper into the water, glancing at him.

He sat at the side of the tub, a bottle of body wash in his hands, and he looked at you, tilting his head slightly, silently asking if it was okay.

This was different. It felt so much more intimate. But you didn’t mind.

You gave him a small nod, and he stood up, moving to wash your shoulders, massaging them gently. before moving down to the rest of your body. His caresses were gentle and soft, as if you would break like glass if he did it any harder.

None of it was sexual, none of it had any lustful intentions. You found yourself smiling at him again, him giving you a soft smile back.

You had a thing for your teacher, and sure, maybe it was wrong, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

[bitchface24-7]

I love the name combos- We got Honey and Sugar PLUS Sugar and Spice! My FBI agent has to know about my growing hunky Latino men addiction. My tiktok is feeding me Jayce content with “Beso Al Aire” and it's making my latina heart do fucking backflips.

Do you think we could get a DILF!Jayce with a reader who takes care of his kid and homelife while he's working. They know he’s a busy man so they guarantee him that his kid tucked in sound asleep, the house is clean, and a warm plate of food is waiting for him.

I so desperately need to talk to someone to feed my growing Jayce obsession.

DADDY’S HOME - JAYCE X READER

synopsis: you're the babysitter to a incredibly cute little girl, Isabella. Her dad unfortunately has a very busy job and is constantly out of the house (against his will, of course) so you take care of her for him. You take care of him too. Who wouldn’t want to care for Jayce Talis?

warnings: age gap (early 40’s Jayce, mid-20s reader), oc daughter, teasing, flirting, risky sex (like hello there's a kid in the house), quiet sex

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. Older dilf Jayce save me. Please older dilf Jayce 🙏🙏

Isabella Talis is the cutest little girl you've ever seen. She's damn near a carbon-copy of her dad. Big brown eyes, bouncy black hair, sun-kissed skin, and big 'ol dimples when she smiles.

You've been babysitting her for a while now, about a decade now. You got the job when you were fifteen, now you're twenty-five. You started babysitting Bella when she was three, now she's thirteen. Honestly, she makes you feel old.

Especially since so many people assume you're her parent.

Going grocery shopping with her, going out to eat, having girl's days together, going to school events and celebrations; you can see where people are coming from.

Especially since Bella listens to you without hesitation. She only calls you by your name or nickname, but that doesn't matter. You're her parent in all the ways that matter.

Isabella's mom wasn't ready. She didn't want to be a mom, you can't blame her. Jayce was in his late-twenties to early thirties when Bella was born, her mom was a few years younger than Jayce. So Jayce became her single-dad with Grandma Ximena helping care of her.

So, you’ve gotten quite used to caring for young Isabella Talis.

You’ve also gotten used to caring for her dad, Jayce Talis.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayce Talis is a very well known man. A co-creator of Hextech, a councillor of Piltover, constantly working. Poor thing is exhausted.

So you ensure he’s taken care of.

You clean the house, you make hot meals for him, you even meal prep for him.

He can’t tell you how grateful he is for that.

But he shows it in his actions.

He ensures you’re also cared for, he pays you well for your work (even though you try to deny it every time. He insists), he gets you gifts that you’ll appreciate for life, he’s even physically affectionate.

Sometimes you think it’s wrong, but you don’t care.

A kiss to your cheek, your neck, his beard tickling your skin, his hands on your waist, your hips, long loving hugs. Hands playing with your hair, hands massaging your neck.

God, you feel like you’re in the foreplay section of a porn video.

“Babysitter gets ruined by Older Hot Boss. 35:12”

You’ve always found Jayce attractive, you obviously didn’t act on it since you were underage. It was wrong, taboo. Now, you’re an adult.

Having your fantasies isn’t wrong, it isn’t against the law.

But you’re quite certain Jayce feels the same way. You remember the last time you were cooking for Jayce after he came home, Isabella already sleeping in her room.

You remember Jayce pining you essentially to the stove top as you stirred the boiling pasta. Kissing the nape of your neck as he slowly ground his hips into your ass. You felt how needy he was, and you let him continue.

Poor thing is pent up, and you did promise yourself you’d do anything to help him out.

It also helped it made you feel good too.

You two didn’t talk about it when eating dinner together, but your heated gazes said more than any words could.

Turns out the fantasies you’ve had since you were a student at the academy may actually come true.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You have to be quite. No if’s, ands, or buts. Isabella is sleeping just down the hall, and you don’t want to traumatize her having her hear you two have sex.

So you cover your mouth desperately as Jayce pounds into you. Thank god the bed doesn’t squeak.

The two of you angle yourselves so your skin doesn’t slap together. You don’t want her to hear anything. You know how awkward and traumatic it is to hear your parents have sex and you don’t want Bella to go through that.

But damn does Jayce fuck like a sex god.

His salt and pepper hair falling into his face, his mouth curled into a sneer as he holds back his moans, his hips punishing.

Your eyes water at the overwhelming pleasure. You rip your hand away from your mouth and desperately kiss Jayce. His hips stutter a bit before picking up speed, the two of you whining into each other’s mouth.

A desperate grip causes Jayce’s back to get red lines. The cuts lightly bleeding as you cum around his cock. The fluttering of your hole cause Jayce’s eyes to roll the back of his head as he cums inside you.

The two of you pant as you kiss, Jayce essentially falling on top of you. You grunt due to the weight but don’t complain, he’s the perfect weighted blanket. You caress his face, his beard surprisingly soft.

“We probably shouldn’t have done that.” Jayce states quietly, your hand pauses for a moment, “Probably. But I don’t regret it.”

“Neither do I. Stay the night? I don’t feel comfortable having you leave so late at night.”

You smile sweetly at Jayce, he’s always cared for you the entire time he’s known you. What a sweetheart.

“Of course.”

Jayce smiles, the crows feet near his eyes deepening as his pearly whites beam at you, the little gap between his front teeth make you want to coo, “Isabella is gonna freak out knowing you slept over and it wasn’t with her for once.”

You lightly laugh as you slap Jayce’s back, he laughs too.

“You’re such a shit disturber.”

“You have no proof.”

Yeah… your fifteen year old self would be screaming and fainting right about now. Your inner teen is immensely satisfied.

As are you as a twenty-five year old.

Dilf Jayce 😩😩 he 100% gives girl dad

[batfsm]

I wrote a fanfic for this but I now need a title…and a summary.

Warnings: I don’t say outright in the story, in my opinion, but i imply a lot of child abuse and sexual assault to children. So be careful please.

I do speak of death and drugs but only in passing.

The story is under the cut. It got away from me. I just wanted to write about Jason and Tim running from Bruce and next thing I know Dick and Alfred are in it, Leslie is mentioned as is Jim, Roy, Lian, Oliver, Damian, and Talia. (Cass and Duke are implied.)

I hope you enjoy @ky-landfill. I’m putting it up tomorrow on my AO3 so I’ll edit in the link then. (Hopefully a name and summary also. Especially a title.)

Edit: Figured both out.

Meetings

Summary: A sound had Jason dropping the tire.

A sound had Jason dropping the tire he just took off and reaching for Tim who came willingly.

Tim climbed onto Jason’s back as the older boy started to run, a move they had practiced for hours until they got it smoothly, and Jason gripped his tire iron harder as he moved faster.

A body suddenly dropping in front of him had Jason sliding to a stop and crunching a bit.

Tim peeked over Jason’s shoulder and felt his eyes widen. Other than that the only other reaction was his tightening grip on his elder brother’s shoulders.

Jason glared as he shifted a bit more to hide Tim and lifted his tire iron. “Leave us alone!”

Batman glared. “Why did you take my tires?”

“None of ya business. We aren’t anymore, so let us go.”

“You’re coming with me.” Batman I growled.

“Fuck off, you big boob!” Jason shouted before rushing Batman.

The man was so surprised that he couldn’t stop the hit to his abdomen. As Batman doubled over, Jason ran past as fast as he could.

[They wouldn’t be found for a week and it wasn’t by Batman. Robin, who came back to visit Agent A and was reluctantly patrolling with Batman, though he was internally glad to be home, ran into Tim by accident.

Tim, when faced with one of his heroes, just stared as he had at Batman before grinning and asking Robin if he wanted to come meet his big brother.

Robin, who was told about the story by a mulish Batman, grinned brightly and agreed.

The young boy led the way to their hideout only to find Jason struggling against a man. Robin didn’t even blink as he took the man down and then fussed over the two boys.

Tim clung to Jason who clung back as Robin looked around and then called Agent A who came to pick the boys up and take them to dinner and then Doctor Thompson’s clinic to be looked over.

As Leslie looked the two civilians over, Agent A snuck out and back to the hideout where the downed man was just coming around.

(Commissioner Gordon ended up with a man beaten up and files full of evidence against the man and others hurting children. Jim Gordon took pleasure in slapping charge after charge on the man and the others, including more police officers who he had thought were not corrupt.)

When Agent A joined the trio, Batman was with him. (Bruce had gotten his own hits in when he saw files on Dick and Roy. Oliver had been alerted and was hunting down the men and women in Star City that were a bit to interested in children, especially his son.) Batman, who had found the files and most of the evidence, dropped to his knees and hugged the three boys. He silently vowed to do better in his relationship with Dick and to keep a close eye on the two younger boys and where they would be placed.

Batman redid the vow months later to include all his children when he finally admitted to Alfred and himself that Jason and Tim were best left with the family.

Jason and Tim, like Dick, was the best thing that happened to him.

All his children, present and future were.]

[Roy and Oliver’s arguments in the future would never get as bad as they should have been because Oliver followed Bruce’s example opened up to his son. Roy would be able to fall back on his dad when he started to get addicted and would have the support he desperately needed from the start. Lian would grow and never die since she was with her dad and grandpa all the time and not just Roy.

The whole family would be happier.]

[Jason, by way, never became estranged from the family. He does die but Talia puts him straight into the Pit and then takes him home with Damian.]

Fuck off, you big boob!

[blimbo-buddy]

spottedleaf hates bluestar and she hates featherwhisker and she hates thunderclan for not doing anything about thistleclaw, she sees how they were willing to let his behavior slide because he was a respected warrior. Anytime bluestar tries talking to her she wants to vomit she wants to tear off her bandaged paws and slice into bluestar until her face looks like shredded pork bluestar has tried apologizing to her but it was so shitty it was so ass, not even about spottedleaf's own trauma it was all just "If I had known" "If I knew better", bluestar makes it all about *herself*. every apology spottedleaf has gotten by any of the older thunderclan cats, she could tell it was done to relieve their conscious and not actually make an effort to help her or mend broken bonds. She can't get mad either that is the bullshit part, she *must* be okay with what they're saying otherwise she's just being difficult. Then she will be blamed for her own abuse for lashing out, thunderclan doesn't care about her they just want to forget everything that is a detriment to their own social morale she wants to poison the food supply in camp and watch everyone die she wants to hurt them

[rie-092]

hihi!! can i get prompt ["Tainted Love" (Soft Cell) Once I ran to you, now I run from you.] for ijekiel alpheus? also i hope your writing and yourself keep thriving!!

EVENT'S ENTRY OO6 : TAINTED LOVE

[ yandere! ijekiel alpheus ]

note: the event ←⁠(⁠>⁠▽⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

ijekiel alpheus was always been the smart and level-headed one. atleast that's what he thought until he met you, his father's ward.

the unknown child that his father brought in the alpheus estate.

he said that you were his late friend's daughter. but he doubt that since aside from being his late friend's daughter, his father refuse to tell him any information about you.

and he noted that you're really affectionate when it comes to jennette.

that's how ijekiel's curiousity worsens.

this guy was really determined to uncover the mystery behind your real identity. that's why he started observing you. he started noting your favorite food, flowers, colors, etc.

and seeing that this won't get him anywhere, he started stalking you. and going on your room, looking for some clues whenever you were hanging out with your friends.

ah, he know this is wrong but he was at the point of no turning back. because he started to became obsessed of your real identity.

and the fact that you play along with him didn't help his obsession at all. you only made it worse, stupid.

but at the same time, the doubt inside him started to disappear. well, that's until anastacius, the previous emperor appeared.

and it was revealed that you were jennette's older sister and anastacius heir. and you only used the alpheus dukedom so that you will be able to help your father achieve his goal.

and what is ijekiel's reaction about this? sure, he felt betrayed. since he was starting to trust you and your intentions. but at the same time, this..... excites him.

he doesn't know what's wrong with him. but everything about your betrayal excites him. the time where he confronted you, and the time you hesitated to use your black magic to kill him— he realized the effect that he has to you.

adorable, you're really adorable.

and so, when you and the previous emperor got caught. he basically begged athanasia and claude to give you to him. and when athanasia asked him what will he do to you, he started to spout some bullshit. surprisingly, athanasia agreed and claude— he really didn't care so he just let his daughter to decide.

and after a few years. there's a rumor about duke alpheus (ijekiel) getting married. yet, the mysterious duchess never appeared in the public eye because of her poor health.

and who's the person behind those rumors? well, it was ijekiel himself. because he want everyone to be curious about you just like he did.

so you better stay still now, love. because sure, ijekiel was really soft when it comes to you. but, you see.... your betrayal changed him and his personality a little. so if you don't want to add the little cute collar that suppress your mana (that he bedrugingly asked lucas to make) in your neck, listen to him, will ya?

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ huh? you want to run away from me? now, that's not fair, love. you will leave me when you were the main reason why i became like this? ”

[tinfoil-jones]

Has Stan ever questioned Jerk Ford the reason why he is the only person he isn't a jerk to, since he's an a-hole even to the other members in their family?

"You don't know him like I do."

- Both Stans at the same time.

On Jerk Ford:

Throughout their lives, Stan insisted that just because Ford’s a jerk, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about anyone. He does care! Really! He just has a hard time showing it. No one ever believed him. You could just say that it’s a twin thing when Stan says something along the lines of “You don’t know him like I do” and they’re like well no shit he’s not a jerk to you. But, give Stanley some credit here, he’s more observant than you think he is.

---

Retired tech billionaire "Old Man" Fiddleford Hadron McGucket starts his mornings as he often does; going into his garage/workshop with a cup of coffee so he could re-tune his banjo for a few songs, quietly so as not to wake his wife.

He almost drops his cup of coffee when he see's theres something on his workbench that wasn't there last night.

A multitool.

One he hasn't seen in thirty years, but recognized instantly.

Carefully, he picks it and and inspects it, maybe it's just a replica.

FHM

Engraved in his late fathers handwriting, a loose scrawl that almost looked cursive if it weren't for the letters not being attached.

It's the same multitool. It's in pristine condition.

---

When they were just little boys, they were hiding behind the counter as their Pa was arguing with a customer, who ended up calling Filbrick a word they never heard before. Filbrick kicked the customer out, but it was clear he was more upset than he let off, in fact, he seemed almost sad, something neither twin had ever seen from their Pa. Filbrick then gave them a lecture that they can never repeat the word they just heard the man call him, because it was a very bad word that people used to insult and put down people 'of their faith'. 

A few minutes later, that same customer slipped on a banana peel that ‘came out of nowhere’, and sprained his ankle.

When they were a little older, Caryn was taking the twins out for a walk, when they passed a construction site and the construction workers started whistling at her, and giving her ‘compliments’ that she didn’t seem to like. She ignored it, but her little sons noticed her pace sped up and she almost rushed them away. 

That night, as those workers were double checking the work they’d done for the day, they were baffled to find that the concrete hadn’t set; the concrete had been tampered with, as if someone had poured a bunch of sugar in it while it was mixing. They’d have to redo it all over again, and it’d cost the company extra for the wasted concrete.

When the twins were in high school, Shermie, who had long since moved out but was visiting, was in tears telling their parents that his boss refused to give him the day off on the day his wife was due to give birth to their baby.

A week before the baby was born, his workplace was suddenly so badly infested with termites and roaches, that it would need two weeks to be properly fumigated, so the workers didn’t have to work while the fumigation was going on, and they’d still get paid because they were salary workers. Shermie was there with his wife when she gave birth to their son, and he got to dedicate a few days to just being with his wife and baby.

Their Ma would help out with Shermie's son sometimes, because both parents worked, but she also worked and would have her two younger sons help out with babysitting as well. And although Ford would gripe and complain about 'dealing with a brat all day', Stan had seen more than once that Ford would put the baby to sleep more than once by simply holding him in his arms and lying down with him, and also falling asleep.

In Backupsmore, Fiddleford was being bullied by a professor who looked down on him for being ‘a hick from an inbred, uneducated family’, and he was told to suck it up when he tried reporting her because she was tenured. In the middle of the year, she was unexpectedly replaced by a new, and much nicer, professor, and they were told their original professor was taking ‘an extended leave of absence’. 

She never came back, and it later came to light later on that the dean found a box full of documents and VHS tapes under his desk that hadn’t been there when he left his office the night before. All of which were extensive proof that the professor had been secretly embezzling the schools budget. 

When Ford comes back to their dimension after thirty years in the multiverse, no one who knew him from before is surprised that he’s still a huge indiscriminate jerk, and people who hadn’t personally known him but knew about him because of their yearly holiday that celebrated his disappearance were unpleasantly surprised to find out he was as bad as everyone said he was. And Stan didn’t necessarily disagree, but even after decades apart he could still see right through his twin as if he were made of rude glass.

Dipper's pens are suddenly indestructible to his chewing habit so no more mouthfuls of ink, and Mabel mysteriously never runs out of glitter; lately, it's also been more shimmery and almost... magical?

It doesn't matter where either of them fall asleep, they always end up waking up tucked into their beds, even though they told Grunkle Stan in the beginning of summer that they were too old to be carried and to just leave them wherever they’d crashed. 

Soos had been complaining all summer about his van making weird noises and having really poor mileage. Out of nowhere, Soos’s vehicle starts running like a dream and he’s getting ninety miles to a gallon, when it’s been twenty to the gallon at most as long as he’s had it.

Also, he didn't remember when he'd upgraded the graphics card of his home computer, but he sure is loving the higher FPS when he's playing video games.

Wendy is beside herself distressed and crying to Stan, Soos, and the Mystery Twins that her house had roof leak when a surprise summer rainstorm hit, and her favourite framed photograph of herself with her late mother was water damaged beyond repair, and is nearly unrecognizable.

The next day she asks her father when he’d made a copy of her photograph, and he replies that he has no idea what she’s talking about. She then takes a closer look at the newly framed picture she'd found on her desk that had been placed right next to her damaged one- did someone paint this…?

People assume that Ford only cares about his twin brother and no one else, because he's the only person he's never been a jerk to. But Stanley knows that isn't true; Ford loves just as strongly as he does, he just has a hard time letting people know.

As for Ford not being a jerk to him? Why would Ford bother, when Stan can see right through him? His twin is the only person who can see him, really see him.

---

Hours after Fiddleford had stormed out of the cabin with his bags in tow, Stanley looks over disheartened when he see's Stanford calmly place the multitool onto his own workbench.

"There were other ways to make him leave, Ford."

"I needed to make sure he wouldn't come back. That was too close of a call."

Ford had intended to give it back when the project was over, too bad it was on his belt when he was pushed into the multiverse.