#THIS MADE MY WHOLE ENTIRE WEEK ANON YOU HAVE NO IDEA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 month ago

Text

a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

#william nylander #william nylander x reader #william nylander x you #william nylander fic #nhl fic

238 notes · View notes

beepboopkek · 11 months ago

Note

need jing yuan to lay on top of me... i bet he'd be hesitant at first, not wanting to crush you (literally) but after a while he'd start to doze off and fully relax. he's so huge,, i might not be able to breathe after all but its so wort it!!

GOD UR SO RIGHT ANON YOU ACTIVATED MY JY BRAINROT SO BAD I SHIT OUT THIS 560 WORDS FLUFF DRABBLE INSTANTLY IM IN THE MIDDLE OF EXAM WEEK BUT DO I CARE!!!! NO!!! Jing Yuan x GN!Reader (Fluff)

“You want me to do what?”

Your boyfriend blinked owlishly at you, almost as if you'd spoken a language he didn't understand.

“I want you to lay on top of me.”

“I'll crush you—”

“—and that is exactly what I want. Please.”

You gave him your best pleading face until he sighed and grabbed your hand, leading you towards the bed, both of you were already in your home clothes so you didn't have to worry about his armour.

“The things I do for you…”

You jumped up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before jumping onto and splaying yourself in the center of the bed, looking like a starfish.

You wiggled your fingers as you smiled up at him,

“Come onnn, I know you want to!”

Jing Yuan eyed the bed hesitantly.

“Do I just—” He paused before gesturing at your body

“plop down on you?”

“Do whatever you want Jing Yuan, just lay on top of me.” – You emphasized with great need.

Jing Yuan shook his head and slowly crawled up the bed, both his arms caging you in as his hair fell down his shoulders.

“You know,” He began with a cheeky look and you already knew where this was going.

“Jing Yuan.” You hissed back at him before he could complete his sentence.

Before you could scold him again, the air out of your lungs was pushed out entirely as you felt the heavy weight of your boyfriend drop down on you. Panicked by the sound of the loud gasp you let out, he immediately lifted some of his weight before grabbing you.

“Sorry, sorry, was that too much?”

You smiled back at him giddily,

“Do it again!”

Jing Yuan sighed in relief but told you a firm “No” before speaking again.

“I'm only going to let down some of my weight, we'll stop after you've had your share of whatever this is.”

And with that, the general lowered his body onto yours once again but, this time he was holding himself up slightly.

You only giggled in response and wrapped your arms around his soft head, gently petting the white hair.

“Relax, Yu.”

Jing Yuan only groaned in response, his head buried into the soft material on your chest. His voice was muffled as he spoke.

“I am relaxing.”

“You're not, drop your whole weight on me.”

Jing Yuan only nuzzled his face further into your chest and made a noise of disagreement.

He was enjoying this, you could tell.

“This was a good idea.”

“Mhhhmmm.”

Jing Yuan drawled out.

There was a soft silence after, the only sounds in the room were your hands petting your boyfriend's hair and his soft breathing.

Slowly but surely, you felt more and more of Jing Yuan’s weight drop back down on you, the “dozing” general finally dozing off.

You chose his afternoon nap time for a reason, there's no way he'd be able to resist his sleep cradled this close to you.

It had barely been five minutes into the silence that had fallen over the room when you heard his soft snores.

Checkmate.

You smiled fondly before closing your own eyes, your breath coming out in short intervals.

You'll sacrifice being able to properly breathe for now— Hell, you'd sacrifice anything to have him agree to do this more often.

#jing yuan the man that you are #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x you #going insane

535 notes · View notes

darksigns-exe · 6 months ago

Text

the great escape - noah sebastian x f!reader

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x f!reader Warning: Swearing, oral sex (f receiving) Word Count: 1.5k Note: Based on two anon messages from last week's soft boy hours. Masterlist

Convincing Noah to take time off had been hard, but convincing him to actually go away for a while had been even harder. But you’re here now. Two hours away from home in a little town nestled into the mountains. You had sprung the idea on him not long after the band had announced the cancellations in Europe, just to get your boy away from all the chaos at home. A day later you’d packed him, your bags and the dog into your car and set off to a somewhat undisclosed location. You had told him that you wouldn’t be far from home, but your exact destination would remain a secret until you got there. Noah hadn’t been too excited about having to leave his laptop at home, but eventually he’d stopped pouting and instead turned to gazing out of the window at the constantly changing landscape.

The cabin you had found was located a little ways away from the main part of the town. It was settled between large trees and a whole load of nothing. You’d be undisturbed for the most part.

Even though you’ve only been here for two days, you’re sure that you could stay here forever. Your normally so structured and planned boyfriend is sleeping in late, rising only when he actually wants to, not when his schedule says he has to. And you’re glad that your plan has worked out.

You can’t tell what time it is. The sun is already up, but nothing in your body tells you that it’s time to get up yet. Next to you, Noah is still dozing — somewhere between awake and asleep. He looks so peaceful, resting without having to worry about all of the things that needed to be done.

Eventually, you feel his wandering hands drifting across the side of your body. He’s always touchy, but even more so in recent weeks. You’re lying on your side, mirroring his position.

“How’d you sleep?” You ask softly.

In return, you get a stifled yawn. He stretches through it, before he gives a content nod.

“Haven’t slept this good in ages.”

“I told you needed some time away.” You tut.

Noah lets out a little huffed laugh, “I know. And I’m very thankful that you made me come out here.”

His fingers drift across your cheek, before they gently thread into your hair to pull you in for a kiss.

“Don’t know what I can do to express just how thankful I am.” He whispers against your lips.

“I’m sure you’ll find something.”

He picks up on your playful tone so effortlessly.

“I see how it is.” He shakes his head with false hurt, “You only want one thing, huh?”

Noah sits up. His hair is still tousled from sleep, sticking to his forehead in places, and you’re sure that he’s never looked better. This is for you only, no one else gets to see him like this.

“Lie on your back for me, love?”

You know where this’ll go, and maybe you’re a bit too enthusiastic when you flip over.

He’s between your thighs in no time. His hands drift up your thighs towards your hips.

“My gorgeous girl.” he sighs, gazing down at your spread out body before him, “Gonna show you just how thankful I am for you.”

The shirt you had borrowed last night had already ridden up your body, exposing your lower half almost entirely. Noah pushes it up the rest of the way, giving him access to your tummy.

You move to take it off entirely, but he’s quick to shake his head.

“Leave it. Love seeing you in my clothes.” He leans down to press a kiss to your sternum.

He makes a slow descent down your body. You’re hyper focused on the brush of his lips against your skin. Your hands quickly find their way into his hair, urging him towards where you really want him. Not that this slow worship of your form isn’t good. The reverence in every gentle kiss is evident, but it also makes you burn with need for him.

You swear that you hear him moan when his tongue first makes contact with your folds. Knowing that he gets as much out of this as you do, fills your head with even more fuzz.

The soft sounds — that are even more muffled now that he’s buried himself against you like this — that fall from him spur you on, but you know that you’ll be in for a long ride.

Noah is as diligent with this as he is with everything else he does, always dedicated to doing the very best he can. His hands rest against your waist, and you can’t stop yourself from entangling one of your hands with his. You give his hands a squeeze, prompting him to look up at you for a moment. The wide-eyed look on his face sends a shiver down your spine.

He detaches himself from you just for a brief moment, and even then his lips quickly find the inside of your thigh. You find yourself mirroring the smile on his face. The space around you seems to narrow down until it’s just the two of you. His teeth graze against your skin, and you wince when he gives a more serious bite. Noah lets out a faint chuckle, before he dives back between your thighs.

You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips and tongue and fingers on your body. The slow push and pull of pleasure drags you along like the tides of the ocean.

It’s not long until you feel yourself falling apart for the first time. But you know that it won’t be the last time. Noah will stay here for as long as you let him. With the way he devotes himself to your pleasure, you’d think that he was praying to some long lost deity. He pulls one climax after the other from you. Your whole body shakes with it, trembling with every slow drag of his fingers inside of you. It’s torture in the best way imaginable. You’ve long lost control of the sounds that fall from your lips. In this complete surrender to his attention, you feel as connected to him as you have never felt before.

Noah retains a tight grip on your hand as he lets you ride out your climax against his face. It’s then that the feeling suddenly becomes too much. You give a rough tug to his hair. At first, he makes no indication of wanting to move away, only when you pull again does he shift back.

His lips and chin shine with your release, and you catch a glimpse of his tongue drifting across his bottom lip to get another taste.

“Why’d you —”

“I love you, but it’s — it’s enough. It’s —”

The pout on his face is quickly replaced by worry. He breaks into a self-satisfied smile when he realises that everything is fine. You toss the shirt he’d discarded when you’d crawled into bed last night towards him. Contrary to what you had expected him to do, he wipes the lower portion of his face with the fabric, before flopping down next to you.

You fit yourself against him, content to enjoy a few more quiet moments. Surely, you’ve made enough noise to wake Goose up from her slumber. It won’t be long until she’ll come trotting up the stairs to demand her share of attention.

She lasts another five minutes before you hear the tell-tale yawn. And sure enough, you’re soon greeted by a cold snout pressing against your leg. Your not so little any more rescue worms her way between the both of you, ultimately bringing your alone time to an end. But it’s fine, this is where you feel at home, where you feel safest. This is just for you.

You rest comfortably here for a good while longer, making idle conversation. You try your best to divide your attention between the two of them, knowing that they both have a tendency to get a little pouty when they feel neglected.

Your conversation moves around your plans for the week, what you’ll have for dinner, perfectly normal and mundane things. For a moment, it feels as if this is all there is to the world.

Just the three of you, comfortable in this little place, and you wonder if there’s a way you can stay here forever.

By the time your stay nears its end, you find yourself more and more reluctant to go back home. And you can tell that Noah feels similarly here. This is not a viable option, you’re both aware of it. You have duties and responsibilities back in the city.

You’ve quickly settled into a routine of enjoying the last few rays of sun on the little porch in front of the cabin, and today is no different. You find yourself curled against him, your back to his chest, as you reevaluate the last few days.

Noah’s the one who words the question first, but you can’t deny that your thought about it too.

“Do you think we can convince her to sell it?”

It’s a ludicrous plan. But then again, most of the things you do don’t really follow the expected path.

taglist:@deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

#noah sebastian x f!reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic

183 notes · View notes

lovelettersforthedamned · 4 months ago

Note

CAN WE GET THe LORE OF HOW peter and big met???? like was it at a party was it on accident was it bc of classs i neeeeeed to know

🙏🏼🧎🏼

Pen or Pencil?

✰ college!hockey!peter parker x f!reader

✰ word count: 0.6k

✰ summary: the moment it all began (he made you want to drop the class).

✰ warnings: language, peter being frustrating, meet cute ugly.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ peter parker m.list ⋆ college!hockey!peter m.list

gif by @ddlovatosrps

Tap. Tap. Tap.

As if focusing on modern physics wasn’t hard enough, the unrelenting tapping from the brunette in a hockey jersey beside you was about to make your brain explode. You tried tuning it out, but the rhythm of the noise wasn’t consistent, giving you hope the boy next to you would stop, only for him to start back up again.

The lecture hall was unbelievably quiet except for the professor reading the notes aloud, and the chronic pencil tapper next to you. You wanted to say something to him, but anything over a whisper wouldn’t be in your favor, so you opted to write it on a piece of spare paper.

hi. not to be a dick, but can you stop tapping your pencil? i can’t rlly focus with the noise, lol.

Slowly sliding it over, you try to be as kind about the whole situation as possible. The boy next to you glances at the paper, then at you. He grabs it and writes on it before sliding it back to you, it read

no, lol <3

You smile at him before you read his writing, that smile quickly dropping. Anger consumes your senses, you can’t even focus on the lecture anymore. You look over at him, a grin on his face as he keeps tapping his pencil on the desk.

You’re not sure how you did it, but you managed to get through the last half hour of class without strangling yourself or the pest next to you. As soon as your professor dismissed everyone, you were quick to pack up your things and get the hell out of there. You needed to lay in bed in complete silence after that.

Grabbing your bag, you’re about to get out of your chair when you hear a voice, “Do you think if I tap a pen it’ll sound different? I guess I’ll have to try it out next time.”

The audacity of this guy is insane. You try to just ignore it as you start to walk out towards the exit, a pep in your step. He runs up next to you, still talking to you about the potential sounds of other writing tools. Overstimulated was an understatement. You were about to pop, and you couldn’t hold it in anymore, “I have no idea what your problem is, but you need to learn when to stop talking, or in this case, stop tapping a fucking pencil.”

He puts his hand to his heart and makes a pained face as if your words really hurt him, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was sitting beside the biggest stick in the mud.”

“Don’t worry you’re not. You just don’t know how to be anything but a dick! And that’s perfectly fine, but just keep,” you wave your hand in front of him, “this entire vibe you’re carrying away from me.”

He flashes a smile at your insult, and to say that your heart pounded at the sight is something you would rather not like to admit. “Yeah okay, I’ll see you next week, (Y/N),” he chuckles.

You stopped in your tracks as he kept walking, confused about how he knew your name. “H-How…What?”

As he walks away, you see a name written across his jersey in bold white letters, ‘PARKER’.

✰ author's note: the hockey peter cinematic universe expands in the form of lore. thank you so much anon for the ask!!! my ask box is open if you wanna send something in btw ;). don't forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!! ok, ily bye!!!

#hockey!peter #hockey!peter parker #college!peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm!peter parker #peter parker #marvel

124 notes · View notes

vixen-tech · 7 months ago

Text

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

#objectum #vix fics #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar electric dreams #electric dreams #am x reader #am ihnmaims #ihnmaims x reader #ihnmaims #hal 9000 x reader #hal 9000 #2001 a space odyssey

228 notes · View notes

lestappenforever · 9 months ago

Text

Lestappen fic - Ice cream shop owner!Charles AU

I don't typically get excited by AU ideas for Lestappen because Lestappen in canonverse is so appealing to me in and of itself. But, while AO3 was down yesterday, @thearchercore received and answered a whole bunch of asks from lovely anons about a Lestappen AU fic where Charles owns an ice cream shop (as inspired by the news that the man is actually going to open an ice cream shop in Milan.) And, well, for the first time ever, I got excited about a Lestappen AU. So, I wrote something.

This is, obviously, dedicated to the incredible @thearchercore, a true pillar of the Lestappen community, and to each and every anon who has sent in asks about this AU. And because this was entirely inspired by people on Tumblr, you can read the whole fic in this post. ❤️

---

Max realizes that he has probably let this whole thing go too far. Way too far.

What had started as a chance encounter after the Monza Grand Prix, where Max had gone on a drive and ended up in a small, lovely ice cream shop - LEC - in Milan that served the most delicious vanilla ice cream Max had ever tasted, had spiraled and developed into what was now practically a weekly occurrence. Every chance he got, when the race calendar, his PR and training schedule would allow it, Max would fly to Milan, spending ridiculous amounts of money and contributing an unnecessary amount to further pollute the environment, just to go back to that ice cream shop.

And yes, although the vanilla ice cream was divine, that's not the real reason Max kept coming back.

No, the real cause of his travels was the ridiculously beautiful shop owner, with the fluffy brown hair, the captivating green eyes Max kind of wanted to drown himself in, and dimples that Max saw every single night when he closed his eyes. And what’s more, the shop owner — Charles — didn't even seem to like Max, because the Monégasque was a die-hard Ferrari fan and he seemed to have made it his personal mission to put all the blame of Ferrari’s lack of success for the past fifteen years on Max. Even if Max hadn’t been in F1 for the entirety of those fifteen years.

Not that he was surprised, really. The passion of the Tifosi did, on more than one occasion, seem to seriously impact their sense of logic and capability of rational thinking.

And apparently, the beauty, sass and stubbornness of the shop owner did the exact same thing to Max's.

The irony of that is not lost on him.

The fact that the two of them had discovered they were on the same page about the superior ice cream flavor the first time Max had been in that ice cream shop — “vanilla is my favorite” Max had said at exactly the same time Charles had said “vanilla is the only right choice” — had not been enough to endear him to Charles. His allegiance with Ferrari and Max currently on yet another dominating winning spree with Red Bull was too strong. (Even if there had been the flicker of something in those green eyes when Charles had learned that he and Max were on the same page about vanilla ice cream.)

After yet another failed attempt at charming Charles a few weeks ago, Max had gotten so desperate that he had genuinely started considering a move to Ferrari, even starting to subtly ask around about the possibility, Red Bull’s superior car and strategies be damned. But then word had reached GP and his race engineer had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he would not be moving to Ferrari to impress ‘some ice cream guy in Milan’. Which Max had taken offense to, because Charles was not just ‘some ice cream guy in Milan’, thank you very much.

(Max really had to learn how to keep his mouth shut around GP.)

So yes, his obsession with the ice cream shop and its owner has gone way too far. And yet, on a warm August afternoon, Max finds himself walking back into that ice cream shop.

Summer break has finally arrived, and Max had genuinely considered renting an apartment in Milan for the next three weeks so he wouldn't have to fly back and forth so much. But then he had come to the conclusion that that would be excessive.

(Because flying back and forth between Monaco and Milan definitely wasn’t excessive. No, sir.)

Charles is there when Max walks in, as he is every single time Max walks in. The guy never seems to leave his beloved ice cream shop, and Max finds himself wondering if the other man gets enough sleep. Or if he even goes home to sleep, or if he has a bed set up in the back somewhere so he never has to waste time going back and forth between the ice cream shop and his home.

He may not know Charles all that well, despite seeing him regularly for the past few months, but he does know that the man must have an incredible work ethic.

The little bell above the door announces his arrival, and Charles looks up from behind the counter. For a brief second, Max is sure he sees a flash of excitement cross those gorgeous features, but the Monégasque quickly schools his expression into one of exasperation and indignation, complete with an overly dramatic eye roll.

“No Red Bull Racing team members allowed,” Charles tells him with a huff, as he puts a brand-new tub of chocolate ice cream in the display freezer.

Max snorts as he walks towards the counter. He had expected a frosty — pun intended — reception following Ferrari’s double DNF in the last race before the summer break, so Charles’ grumpy demeanor doesn’t deter him.

“Hello to you too, Charles,” the Dutchman sing-songs, ignoring the way a couple of teenage girls at a table by the window gape at him. “Let me guess, Ferrari’s double DNF in Belgium was somehow my fault?”

Charles meets his gaze and narrows his eyes. He points an ice cream scoop at him. “I am not sure how, but yes.” He waggles the scoop accusingly.

It’s Max’s turn to roll his eyes. “Right, because the two of them crashing into each other in turn two, while in P8 and P9 respectively, while I was at the very front definitely had something to do with me?”

“Obviously,” Charles confirms with a sniff.

“You’re ridiculous,” Max laughs, shaking his head in a manner that can only be described as fond. He comes to a halt in front of the cash register at the counter, and waits for Charles to ask him what he wants.

But Charles never does; instead busies himself with rearranging the different bowls of topping on top of the display freezer, wiping down the counter, and restocking the ice cream cones, all the while completely ignoring Max’s presence. Or general existence, even.

Eventually, Max runs out of patience.

“I’d like three scoops of vanilla ice cream, please.”

Charles doesn’t even stop what he’s doing. Doesn’t even look at him. “We’re all out of vanilla.”

Max stares. At Charles, then at the almost full tub of vanilla, with its little sign labeling it as vanilla sticking out of the fluffy ice cream.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Charles, I can see the vanilla ice cream. It’s right there,” Max insists, pointing at the flavor through the display glass. As if Charles isn’t completely aware of its existence, as if he’s not just being a little shit and punishing Max for something that isn’t even remotely his fault.

Charles pauses in his bustling to look at Max. Then, he follows the length of Max’s arm to where his finger is pointing directly at the vanilla. His gaze returns to Max’s eyes as he says, deadpan: “That is only a display ice cream.”

Max blinks repeatedly.

“A display ice cream?” he echoes incredulously.

“Yes,” Charles confirms, raising his chin. “It’s only for display, it is not to be served.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well, it’s like this,” the Monégasque says, lifting one shoulder in a careless shrug.

Max doesn’t know if he wants to smack him or kiss him.

(That’s a lie, he knows damn well that he wants to kiss that smug look right off of Charles’ stupidly beautiful face.)

“Fine,” the Dutchman sighs, moving his finger slightly to the right. “Then I would like three scoops of the chocolate.”

“I’m sorry, but that is also only a display ice cream,” Charles tells him with a completely straight face.

“You’re not serious.”

Charles raises one full eyebrow. “Does it look like I’m joking?” he asks.

And, well, Max has to admit that it absolutely does not.

He stands there in silence for a while, wondering why the hell this infuriating man has been the object of his deepest desires for the past few months. Wonders why Charles’ face is the only thing he sees when he closes his eyes to sleep at night, and why he is the one person that keeps appearing in the majority of his dreams. Wonders why, when his mind wanders as he has a secure grip around himself in bed, it keeps wandering to the mental images of what Charles would look like, feel like, sound like if he was there with Max, when all Charles seems to want to do is get under Max’s skin and infuriate him in ways and for reasons Max hadn’t even known he could let himself be infuriated.

Oh, who is he kidding? Those reasons, coupled with Charles’ overall appearance and being, are exactly why his mind never seems to tire of Charles whatever-the-fuck-his-middle-name-is Leclerc, and only him.

Max has always been a sucker for challenges. And Charles is definitely a challenge.

Had Charles been an F1 driver instead of the owner of an ice cream shop, Max just knows their on-track battles would have been epic. Their rivalry would have been one for the ages; their names and lives so intertwined that people could not have mentioned one without also mentioning the other. Because Max is sure that Charles’ passion, his stubbornness and his outright refusal to give in to anything or anyone would have translated into a fierce, unyielding, unapologetic driver.

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Max gives a quick shake of his head to clear is racing mind. Then, he fixes Charles with a hard stare.

“Let me guess, these are all ‘display ice creams’?” he asks, gesturing with a hand at the numerous tubs of flavors in the display freezer.

“Of course not,” Charles scoffs, as if that’s the most ridiculous statement that has been made in the ice cream shop in the past few minutes. “That would be a horrible way to run a business. We have one flavor that is not only for display.”

Max is almost afraid to ask, but he does anyway. “Which is?”

Charles doesn’t answer the question with words, just points to the bottom tub at the far left. The little sign reads ‘Mint chip’.

“Who the fuck eats mint chip ice cream?” Max asks, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “That’s like eating toothpaste.”

For the first time since Max stepped through the door, Charles smiles. A beautiful, self-satisfied, mischievous smile that does things to Max’s body, mind and soul. It makes his heart rate pick up and his skin tingle with an excitement he has no business feeling.

Pathetic. He’s absolutely pathetic.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Max. That's all I have to offer today.”

And Max, proving just how completely gone he is on this ridiculous man, lets out a long, tired sigh.

“Three scoops of mint chip, please,” he requests in a voice that is completely resigned.

Charles’ face lights up like a fucking Christmas tree, and he scurries to get one of the small glass bowls reserved for customers who want to eat their ice cream in the shop, not even needing to ask if that’s what Max is planning to do, or if he wants his ice cream in a cone. And although Charles is doing his damnedest to make Max believe that his general existence on this earth is causing Charles physical pain and emotional turmoil, the fact that Charles remembers his preference doesn’t go unnoticed by Max.

He won’t even entertain the idea that Charles might just be adamant on making Max sit in his shop and eat his mint chip ice cream so Charles can watch him suffer with every spoonful.

Charles is generous with the scoops — incredibly so — and Max is sure those three scoops he requested actually equal the size of at least six regular-sized scoops. He realizes that he probably should have asked for one scoop instead of three. He watches as Charles sticks a spoon in the ice cream and places the bowl on the counter in front of Max with the biggest grin on his face.

“It’s on the house,” Charles tells him, probably just to further add to Max’s suffering.

The Dutchman eyes the bowl of ice cream warily, quietly cursing it and himself, before picking it up with a hesitating hand. Charles watches him expectantly the entire time as Max makes his way to a small table in one corner of the shop. Behind him, a small child, probably around five or six, had entered the shop with his mother while Max was waiting for Charles to finish scooping, and Max hears the boy ask for two scoops of strawberry ice cream. And Charles — the fucking asshole — makes a point out of saying ‘coming right up’ in both Italian and English just to fuck with Max some more.

Max takes a seat with his back to the window so he can face Charles. Because if nothing else, he’s not going to let Charles win.

The first spoonful really does taste like toothpaste with a hint of chocolate, and it’s an awful combination. It takes every ounce of willpower Max has not to let the disgust he’s feeling show on his face. He lets the ice cream melt in his mouth for a long moment, before swallowing the disgusting liquidized ice cream, all the while maintaining a completely unaffected expression.

Charles watches him eat the entire bowl of ice cream, and Max never breaks eye contact. With every expressionless swallow, Max can see the thinly veiled disappointment on Charles’ face and the satisfaction he gets from that is enough to motivate him to finish every single bite. He even makes a point out of scraping the melted remains of the ice cream from the sides of the bowl, scooping it up into a mint green coloured soup in his spoon, and eating it. He even briefly considers licking the bowl clean just to get a rise out of Charles, but the Monégasque turns away from him with a huff before he can put his plan into action.

Which, thank fuck, because Max is starting to feel a bit sick from the ridiculous amount of toothpaste-flavored ice cream he has just consumed out of spite and spite alone. He pushes the bowl forward and away from himself on the table with a frown.

Charles goes back to ignoring his presence for the next fifteen minutes, and Max waits. Just because he can — just because he knows this wasn’t the outcome Charles had expected and he wants to revel in the satisfaction of finally getting under Charles’ skin for once for a little while longer.

Eventually, Charles comes to collect his empty bowl and gives Max a disapproving glare.

“Well? How was it?”

And Max, unable to resist, gives Charles his biggest, brightest smile. “It was delicious, thank you.”

If looks could kill, Max would have been dead. Then, Charles turns on his heels and walks away with Max’s empty bowl and spoon.

Taking the win, Max gets to his feet and waits for Charles to look over at him from behind the counter. When he does, he gives the other man a wave. “See you tomorrow, Charles.”

“You’re not coming back tomorrow!” Charles shoots back.

“Oh, but I am,” Max counters. It sounds like a promise, and it is.

As he walks out of the ice cream shop, feeling Charles’ gaze boring into the back of his head as he does, Max pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts looking up hotels in the area with available rooms.

***

Max stays in Milan for two weeks, and he goes to Charles’ ice cream shop every single day.

Every day, Charles tells him the only flavor he can serve him is mint chip. By day three, Max has stopped trying to argue with him. By day five, Max orders vanilla and Charles responds with ‘three scoops of mint chip coming up’. And every day, Max sits at his little table by the window to eat his ice cream while Charles stands behind the counter, watching him eat the entire time.

Every. Single. Day.

And every single day, Max can see Charles’ resolve crumbling, little by little, convincing him that his tragic efforts are not in complete vain. They might be mostly in vain, but Max is in far too deep at this point to care.

On the eighth day, Max stays until closing and Charles spends the majority of his free moments actually hanging around Max’s table and engaging him in conversation. It's a step in the right direction, even if Charles does end up kicking the Dutchman out when he has to count the register.

And on the eleventh day, as Max is about to leave after finishing yet another disgusting, massive portion of mint chip ice cream, Charles finds himself looking at the blond from behind the counter, watching as Max smiles down at his phone. Those piercing blue eyes are crinkling in delight, causing adorable smile lines to appear at their corners, his full, inviting lips stretching to expose his straight, white teeth. A wave of something — jealousy, Charles would define it as if he wasn’t a pigheaded dick when it comes to four-time F1 World Champion Max Emilian Verstappen — washes over him at the thought of whatever or whoever it is that puts that smile on Max's face.

It makes the Monégasque realize that all of his attempts over the past few months to convince himself that he doesn’t find Max attractive or charming as hell, and that he definitely doesn’t want to find out whether Max likes vanilla in bed, too, have been for naught.

And so, with an overwhelming feeling that he's losing a battle he's been fighting for months, Charles throws away the paper towel he had been using to dry his hands and resigns himself to his fate. Because sometimes, perseverence needs to be rewarded.

And he's not just referring to Max's.

“You can take me out to dinner tonight,” he tells Max, and it sounds like the statement pains him. Which it kind of does.

Max stops dead, one hand on the door handle, half-turned to face Charles. The look on his face is one of utter surprise.

“Really?” he asks, and he sounds so fucking hopeful that it should probably make Charles change his mind. But instead, it makes him want to close up the shop immediately and let Max take him out to dinner right fucking now.

Which is pathetic, really. But then again, so is the way Charles has been waking up every day hoping Max Verstappen would walk through the door of his ice cream shop for the past few months.

But, having no intention of showing his hand, Charles maintains a stoic expression as he nods.

“Pick me up here at nine.”

Max's smile is so wide that Charles wonders if it makes his cheeks hurt. He also wonders if said cheeks will feel as warm to the touch as they look.

“Okay,” Max says, still smiling. “Then I'll see you again at nine.”

And with that, Max turns, pulls the door open, and walks out of the shop.

When Charles can only just see the back of the Dutchman through the window, he sees Max stopping briefly on the sidewalk and pumping his fist in the air in the same celebratory manner Charles has seen after so many victorious races over the years.

He looks ridiculous, and Charles might just be falling a little bit in love with him.

Charles doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

***

It turns out that Max's preferences in bed are far more adventurous than his taste in ice cream.

Which turns out to be yet another thing they're on the same page about.

#Lestappen #Lestappen fic #My writing #thearchercore #Ice cream shop AU

358 notes · View notes

chasedeys · 3 months ago

Note

Hi do you have a favorite moment between Joe and Ja’Marr ?? Also how would you describe their relationship I’m new to this fandom and they are just so close and adorable

hi there!! thank you sm for coming by and sending this ask bc now there's like 2k+ words under the cut 😭 i feel like i should apologize profusely for the unchecked word vomit oh my god

to start off, like would you believe me if i said i’ve been a fan of the bengals for like a month :')) started ts during the week leading up to the first regular season game when jamarrs contract literally gripped me with the drama of it all. so for all my word vomit below feel free to fact check me ahaha

you asked me for a favorite moment for joemarr and i start describing their entire life together i am so very sorry, but:

on the top of my head literally just two weeks ago. this 63 yarder jamarr and joe made that led to an mildly feral celly where they just. didn’t know how to act right and got made fun of for not doing a cool celly?? this insane anon ask i sent before i caved and made a sideblog was actually just my word vomit over it 😭. And also last weeks celly, a whole lot softer and more tender with jamarr skipping then walking straight towards joe who held his arms out for him? thats crazyyyy he was expected! he was welcomed!! he was loved!!! the way one of the fired up coach just let joemarr have their intimate little moment before slapping jamarrs shoulders in joy is also crazy to me 😵‍💫 and just this screenshot of that celly where they’re just wrapped around each other right in front of their sidelines. the fuck. watched that shit sick to my stomachhhh i had enoughhhh.

this edit with the compilation of their post-tds pinky shakes oh my goddd. just every time they do pinky shakes!! who does that!!!! the softest possible way they can make a handshake (since college my god) in a status quo where you make the most elaborate handshakes to look cool and spread joy and burn up adrenaline but these two chose to do a quick twist of their pinky fingers (the symbolism of it alllll how dare theyy) and pressing knuckles together for however long they want to. the roty award where they did their pinky shake is one of my favorites huhu

the lakers date…..the way i had no idea sam and dj reader were with them on this date until i see a full vid of lebron meeting them 😭 and the lore goes crazyyy for this whole thing bc apparently joe was having the shittiest week in arizona and jamarr made an obscure ig story that he arrived in az before deleting it (like whyyyy would he do that) and then boom. they’re in the lakers game in lsu/lakers colors. and jamarr did that arms around shoulder thing that blows my mind because what the fuck is wrong with him why would he do that in front of lebron james and anthony davis and like national tv idk. joe also clapped (??? for whatever reason this fucking dork my godd) his hands right in front of jamarrs face when jamarr was being introduced to the stadium.

THE WEIRD CLOTHES PAIRING THING IS INSANE TO ME TOO. they do it in such subtle ways that you just think its a coincidence and you're delusional and it probably is but!! but??? they went to the game wearing yellow and purple (color coordinating lakers colors!! if i were on a date i would also do that cringy shit!!) that is also coincidentally lsu colors! another theory is they each chose to wear lakers colors without the other knowing of which this is just another case of soulmatism. the matching shoes during week 3! the sort of matching color schemes for their away game airport fits! last week both wearing rick owens apparently idk?? no idea if they've done this before this season btw i just got here lol. this is reaching ofc but very fun to think of!

jamarr being batshit crazy with his words abt joe. 'he's like a god to me' 'trying playing without my favorite quarterback' 'i told him dont scare me like that again. he knows how to slide he's just hard headed' 'im here for the future, for him. i want you to be here for the future' (this was abt joe playing through an injury :)) etc etc. something about 'just keep winning as many championships together' or like 'me and him come as package' or something fairy tale ish like that idk man he's crazy i could make something up only to be bamboozled because he has in fact said shit like it before. and like his refusal to consider anyone but joe for the no. 1 qb hhh. somebody needs to put him in an mri and study his brain when shown a picture of joe burrow bc like?? the way jake had to prove himself before jamarr even followed him on ig is ??? pls be normal jamarr i beg of u (he's perfect the way he is).

while jamarrs insane with his words, joes insane with his actions!! the lsu sec championship ball he gave to jamarr. that little look like ‘hey you want it? okay its rightfully yours' mkayy crazy ass!!! jamarrs lsu championship game worn jersey joe asked for and worn for their first game back in nola. just what the fuck went through joes mind that led to this. their dads (both named jimmy both close since lsu too, cute!) were asked about their fav joe game day fit they said the jamarrs lsu jersey 😃! in laws approving your partner of choice etc. this is jimmy chases interview regarding joemarr too btw haha. anyway back to joe being insane—the demented way joe runs to jamarr and hops around him and slams his helmet to his when jamarr makes plays. and like again this is speculation as in no citation sorry but jamarrs reason for going to cincy is definitely in part because of joe?? joe being the one to text him pack your bags you’re going to cincy is crazyyy. firmly believe joe talked him up and asked for him! when they last parted before joe went to cincy did they make a pact that they would play in a team together again? did jamarr reach out when joes 2020 season ending injurys news reached him? did he watch him go down that first time?

also during their lsu days they interviewed the wr core and they were asked abt who joe likes best (stupid ass question in my opinion btw. why would they ask that), it was so....sooooo......like jamarr was so shy and unsure!! he's like 'is it..me?' and terrace going 'he does like throwing to jamarr most' and then jamarr bursting into embarrassed laughter like okay??? okay 😭😭 fine okay be cute or whatever. in my mind back then jamarr was a whole lot more unsure of his presence in joes life because hes super young, his qb is literally 3 years older, its their first year playing together etc but i think being joe being upfront on asking jamarr to play with him in cincy (again speculation on my part no idea if this is true ha) just cements the little gremlin in his head that believes he has to be crazy about joe

their 2021 preseason jamarrs drops were apparently disgusting enough for people to shit on his entire life idk and crucify the bengals for drafting another wr but joe was so firm on his belief in jamarr! that's devotion babyyyy his clap back in the first post game presser was very much what were u saying abt the loml coded love that for them

last feb probowl dramaaa rumors of jamarr moving to houston bc he chirped at cj stroud that he knew cj wanted to play with him or smtg so he had to post this very emotional very sincere tweet and speak abt it in an interview 😭😭 just head empty no thoughts mouth racing! joe probably teased the ever living shit out of him 'so you’re moving to houston without telling me :( i had to find out through twitter :(('

just teasing each other in numerous occasions over each others speed??? that mic'ed up moment when joe teased jamarr over being slow! yelling out his name so many times just to say that he was a little slow and jamarr shooting back instantly with an incredulous ‘be serious. be serious.’ vs jamarr nagging joe over being slow ass hell during his 20 (?) yard rushing attempt and joe defending himself in the whiniest voice i have ever heard from him saying he had to wait for ted to block before him (ted then going what did i do? ted I’m sorry you had to be dragged into their weird mating dance banter) and also this gem of a jamarr tweet (x)

speaking of jamarrs twitter, 17yo him’s curiouscat answers that insanely aligns with joe is nothing short of crazy. they have not met or heard of each other then i don't think. but according to it he likes them older, smart, doesn't mind if they're taller, but he doesn't fw long distance so he flew his ass to ohio 😮‍💨. (also whooo be sending these asks high schoolers dear lordd 😭). the soulmatism between them is kinda crazy like joe being well over 3yrs his senior yet still they had a moment chance to play together during jamarrs freshie/sopho (?) year in college because joe chooses to transfer to lsu, and coach o taking a chance on him despite not playing for how many long, winning a championship (!!) together for that one year that they could play together, and saying fuck that only one year bullshit before flying jamarrs ass right to cincy so they could play 4 and counting more years together.

jamarr talking abt where it apparently clicked for joe and jamarr that joe can throw to jamarr and jamarr would be right there to catch it haha. like he didn't give a shit if people thought it was joes big life changing moment hes just insisting that that was when he and joe really clicked!

literally my favorite mic'ed up moment between them. the teasing! the nagging! 'you see the big blue thing' 'don't do me that' 'that's the endzone' then the laugh!!!! ‘he’s gonna get mad at me when i tell him this shit' then gesturing joe over like hes a cat my god jamarr 'you couldnt overthrow me?' a very affronted 'my guy you were wide open' aughuhghuhhguu joy love laughter etc. (side note can't help myself sorry pretty sure the reason joe teased him about the endzone is bc jamarr could’ve gone for it but got tackled bc he was kinda slow to start sprinting and when he did he just sat there legs out shoulders dropped looking disappointed but cute as all hell i love him sm)

sooo many other moments because theyve literally been in each others lives for over five years!!!! recently joe saying jamarr playing is fun to watch 😵‍💫, jamarr saying numerous times that joes a tough mfer but also hard-headed and how he's also hard-headed but at least he listens (my guy....reflect again), that article of jamarr knocking on doors for a house near joe that he denied i think but he also said that he kept his stuff in joes house before he got his own, that jamarr gq shoot where he went insane and lied (or did he?) about buying joe clothes that just led to the ridiculous clothes saga that is still unsolved to this day and that tb and tee very obviously teased him over and somehow the socmed team clowned him on too 😭

etc etc stop me please

AND ANYWAYSSS MOVING ON:

how i would describe their relationship is ride or die with incredibly similar way of living by which i mean they live and breathe a sport they’re so talented in and they play to win and beat themselves up for doing bad in but also with the awkwardness of knowing they’re two vastly different people with different ways of seeing things and handling things but also even with that steadfast difference of being they also believe in each other in a truly outrageous way that it translates to them saying and being insane about each other (hence the list above) with little to no shame. (i hope this makes sense because im not reading all that over again wow)

like they’re so complicated to me!! by all means i don’t actually know these two or what they’re really like, but surface level they’re so different! their temperament is literally 180, joes cool and steady persona, incapable of being ruffled, closed off, moments of silliness he brings out only in certain situations, smart little quips he gives out at times like he can’t help himself vs exuberant open extroverted blustering to hide his shyness runs his mouth always down to fight jamarr chase. they couldn’t be more different! so how can they read each other so well? how can they run routes and plays with minute changes whilst running from men trying to take them down between one heartbeat to the next? how is it that jamarr is so down bad for this man that he can just say the shit he does about him? how much trust does joe have in this man that he shuts down every bad shit anybody tries to tell him or coax him to say? something about /always/ choosing the other despite everything is always a thing that attracts me to a ship.

also after that infamous kc game shove, i definitely think they had a very tough heart to heart where jamarr maybe spills his full feelings over the contract and how he hasn’t been getting the ball to actually make big plays and how his worth as a wr1 is being brought to question and joe probably spills on his own feelings on how jamarr held out so long and had last minute (?) changes of playing that week one ramps up joes own anxiety and hang ups like i definitely feel like he had some unchecked anxiety over playing with his wrist that first game that jamarr probably said something incredibly insane yet uplifting about in response. the next game its like they mended some unseen frayed stitch of their connection! first drive banger of a 41 yarder td for jamarr, two tuddys for the game in fact lol!! joe gets him his deep ball, then the insane way joe rushed at him after his 63 yarder in the next game, its like that first touchdown against minnesota again. i just wish the very best for them, to keep making these insane passes and insane runs they've been making since lsu.

anyway i feel like a lot of my rambling is for jamarr sorry 😭 he’s like a drug to me such an interesting person i base my thoughts around him. I feel obliged to say i wrote my first ever fic and its them lmao and i link this just as a fair warning to everyone that i very obviously write and ramble in the tags like im in love with jamarr, definitely with some bias, and I’m learning how not to be ashamed of that !

also nobody asked but scrolling through the hell that is my photo gallery i just have to share my favorite tee photo which is coincidentally the mock photoshoot the bengals socmed team made them do to clown jamarrs gq shoot ahaha

hearts ❤️ thank u for reading all the way through :"))

#this is.....so much.....sorry..........hyperfixations go crazy for me #just. using this as an archive for my fav joemarr moments ig 😭😭#also humbly asking you all who fully read this to ignore how many times i use the word insane or crazy. thank u :')#didn't reread to check anything esp the last bit so if u see spelling mistakes wonky links format etc look away too please thank you #a lot of these i didn't bother to link bc it was hell for me to even do it in the first place so :')#ask #joemarr #joe burrow #ja’marr chase #joemarr meta

82 notes · View notes

drdemonprince · 1 month ago

Note

Hi Devon, anon from awhile ago who was taking the escitalopram but wanting to come off it.

I did taper off. Albeit far too quickly and without doctor input, which is generally how I roll once I’ve made a decision.

Felt ok for the first few days then full withdrawals hit me. Spent a week feeling disassociated, exhausted, very fragile and getting “zap” sensations in my body and mind. Especially with any kind of sensory input, my body interpreted it as a kind of threat. A hair across my face, breeze, anyone talking to me…

It’s been pretty miserable. My daughter who I mentioned who was also put on it told me when she tried to come off it felt that way for months (and she’s not even autistic) and in the end went back on it because she couldn’t cope.

But I’m determined to get off them.

I haven’t gotten the Sam e as you recommended yet, firstly because they’ve told me taking both while the escitalopram is still in my system is a bad idea, and also because I want to kind of feel what it’s like to be on nothing for awhile.

But anyway last night something awesome happened. I was watching Bluey with my nephew (highly recommended haha) and something really sweet happened in the episode. I felt myself get teary, then immediately started crying because I got teary.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve had any real emotions. And a big part of wanting to come off the meds was that I missed the Intense Good feelings and reactions that I had. Life was entirely dull and neutral.

This morning a story about a couple adopting a baby came on tv and I cried again. It was awesome.

I feel like shit, I’m not sleeping and I’m still super disassociated and in sensory overwhelm.

But it’s worth it.

I read a Substack piece around SSRIs which said “the period in which one starts or stops an SSRI is extremely dangerous. Your brain chemistry is adapting. And your suicide risk actually increases, not least because you have taken steps and expect to be cured but aren’t. This proves especially challenging in volatile adolescent brains, but is an issue for us all.”

That’s not ever talked about and certainly not cautioned by my doctor or pharmacist.

I guess my whole point here is a word of caution around going on them on the first place, especially for Autistic people who might be more sensitive to the effects. I know there’s a place for them. But I wish I hadn’t started them and I wish my daughter hadn’t been put on them at 16.

Life is meant to be a mix of emotions and killing all emotions is just too much of a sacrifice to make. Definitely a lesson learned for me.

Thank you so much for sharing this!

54 notes · View notes

mayasaurusss · 5 months ago

Note

I want me some yandere adult lottie, with an innocent reader. Do whatever the fu<k you want with it bae

Old ghosts. Contents: mentions of abusive relationships, mentions of violence, horror moments, Yellowjackets coded, light romance, two OCC's, reader is gender neutral but wears a dress at one point, Lottie is as delusional as ever, open ending 350k wors/ about six pages. Author's note: So uhm, I don't think I've met any requirments you had, anon. I tried to do yandere Lottie in this but it really doesn't come across as it and I'm not familiar with the genre, so everything I did prior to this sucked. So I did something more akin to a murder mistery? But since I still wanted to make this yandere coded, I left the story as raw and ugly as I could. In my personal opinion this is very Yellowjackets coded. It isn't a very romantic oneshot nor smutty one, but I hope you will still like it!

It would be an understatement to say you had messed up. You could not even predict where this relationship would lead you.

You had met Lottie months ago, or well, you had come into contact with what you now knew was her 'cult'.

The marketplace had been very busy at that hour of the morning, vendors shouting and people chatting. However, you felt as lonely as ever. After many years, you have been dumped by your boyfriend. Or, he had cheated on you and blamed you for it. It was for the better, really. You were clingy and he had taken his anger out on you on multiple occasions, so at least now you weren't going to be his next punching bag. You had been miserable: not that you really loved him, after all, after the umpteenth hit -love or not-, an animal stops loving its master. But you had never managed to learn to live alone, yet alone care for yourself.

Other than that, you were battling with the understanding that you loved women more than men during your entire life. That realization had come during your relationship with Simon, and he had understood quickly. One night, you were invited to his friend's house. His girlfriend was so beautiful you were jaw slacked and shy with her for the whole night. Simon's friend hadn't noticed, but Simon did. The morning after, you had walked in your office with bruises under your suit, a black eye and a heavy heart. He was so bitter and awful that he had slept with many women the weeks after, and among them -as far as you knew- there was the woman from that night. At least you had dodged two bullets.

So, the woman who sold honey knew perfectly what to do with you. It wasn't her fault, really. People like her see someone that went through the same, and just want to help. She introduced herself as Olivia, a woman the same age as you, and when she saw your healing bruises, she had told you about where she lived. A compound, lost in nature and away from civilization. There, according to her, people lived in harmony with nature and with each other. They learnt to face their inner demons and past trauma under the care of Charlotte Matthews. Their caretaker. Olivia talked about Charlotte like a believer might have talked about their God, with such adoration that it left you breathless. And, a bit skeptical.

You had accepted Olivia's invite. One of Simon's many gifts, other than bruises and breaking your trust, was throwing you out of the house. Besides your friend's generous hospitality, you were basically homeless, and jobless after your boss had fired you just days prior to your break up. So, living at the compound didn't seem like a bad idea. Olivia had assured you that Lottie -that's what she called her- had a special program for whoever wasn't in the right economical situation to live at the compound, but still needed care.

You had started to travel that same afternoon, having packed the last of your belongings and bid farewell to your friend and family. To go to the compound, you had traveled on old streets that unraveled through barren outskirts and lush forests. There was no one else in sight. That made you even more scared than before. How could you just accept a stranger's invite to an isolated place in the mountains? You had truly lost your mind.

But Olivia was so nice with you, so friendly and lovely. She had no problems in telling you what made her arrive at the compound in the first place. Two years ago, when she was 19, her father and mother had fought and in a fit of rage, he had pushed her down the stairs, almost breaking her skull. Ever since then, she had been taken care of by her son, who did not have time to help nor give a fuck about Olivia. So, for a year, she had been alone. That was until Lottie had found her. With the exact same tactic you had been recruited -kidnapped?- she had come to live at the compound and with it, came to peace with her trauma.

Your story wasn't as grim as Olivia's, but you still needed to be taken care of. "That is what Lottie will do" she said, brown eyes on you and a smile that could kill on her lips.

The compound was on the foot of a mountain, surrounded by vegetation and overlooking a lake. When you set foot on the ground, the first thing you heard was a strange melody, a chant in the distance. Olivia had been quick to show you away from it, inside the main building where your belongings such as your phone and wallet had been taken from you. "Well, that's because our phones chain us from nature and healing" she had answered you, after you had asked her why they needed to take your phone at all. Great, so, you are in the middle of nowhere, without your phone close to you, surrounded by strangers and without a clear path back to civilization.

Great, just great. What has gotten into you?

"Wait here, I'll go get Lottie" Olivia said, seating you on a wicker chair in the waiting hall. You had noticed that everyone here wore the same purple outfits. Oh, this is definitely a cult. "Here she is!" you heard behind you, along with the steps of two pairs of feet. Fearing that you might have looked like an insensitive asshole, you stood up, waiting for Lottie to circle to your front.

You had expected her to look like a hippie: an old woman with short white hair, sunglasses indoors, long hoop earrings and who smelled like weed. Instead, you found yourself in front of the most beautiful woman ever. Lottie was tall, quite literally towering over you, her hair was long and black, the same color as her eyes, skin dark coloured. She looked really good for her age, every wrinkle she had was perfect on her skin.

Her velvety, deep and calm voice had greeted you, "Hi, I am Charlotte Matthews. You can call me Lottie. And who might you be?" you answered back with a trembling voice. She smiled at you with such care and love you thought you could combust on the spot. "I will show you around here" she told you, as her hand came to rest on your lower back, guiding you through the place.

The first months at the compound had been... calm. You shouldn't have expected anything more than that, but it felt like a breath of fresh air. You always wore purple -heliotrope- dresses or clothes, woke up at six am and went to sleep at ten pm. Everyday the cycle continued, so much so that you didn't at first notice the... signs, as you were completely immersed in your routine.

Whenever you started to hear chants in the distance, Olivia, who was ever present in your life, would lead you away from them. If you questioned her, she would just say "It's just a special therapy. You will see one day".

Lottie was always with you. Always. At first you didn't pay too much mind to it, thinking that since you were probably a mildly troubled individual, she would feel the need to have her eyes on you more than the others. But Olivia had had it worse, far worse than you, but she wasn't as followed as you were from Lottie. And you were certain others have had it worse than Olivia.

Lottie was always following you: whether that was during the many therapy sessions, the lunch or even your personal alone time in your personal cabin -which she had so graciously given you just three weeks after you became a member- where she would knock at the last hours of the day to have small talk with you. It had become such a nag for you that at one point, you even said it to her, clearly and plainly, "Lottie, look. I understand that I might be... weak, in any way. But I'm fine, I don't always need you".

You wished you hadn't said that, because her eyes had stopped reflecting all light, a dark look in them. "Ah, I see. Very well, I will leave you alone" she went away and didn't talk with you for a few days. All the time though, you felt eyes watching your back.

Everything comes boiling back to right now.

When Lottie had talked with you again it was in the late afternoon. She has just finished one of her communal meetings in the clearing overlooking the lake. She had walked over to you, took your hand and led you where no one could hear. "I want you to meet me this evening, to do something that will build our common trust in each other" she had gestured to a man you hadn't noticed before, prompting him to give you a white flowy dress. "Tonight, after dinner, come to me, here. I want you to wear this" she talked to you, taking your shoulders in her hands.

When the sky became purple, you had gone out, waiting for Lottie. The clearing seats had been moved, now just the yellow signs of the compound's symbol left. Lottie had moved from behind, greeting you with her velvety voice "Hello dear. Are you ready for our therapy?" she said, and her hand came up your face, stroking your cheek. "Uhm... Lottie... What are you doing?". Your cheeks felt hot with blood, voice weavering. You had battled with your small crush for Lottie for a while now, and even if you did find her attachment to you a bit too much, you still liked her. So much.

Lottie just smiled, her other hand rested on your hip before she let you go, walking over the lake's shore. You followed behind her like a dog, small and frail in comparison with the towering grace she was. "Come down here, come" her hands extended to you, helping you down the wood platform to the shore's sands. She gestured towards the dark waters, prompting you to follow her. When you did, she wordlessly placed your body into the lake, the water splashing at your hips. "It's... cold" her smile was enough to fend off the shivering of your body, but what she said next made you rethink her sanity.

"I want you to lower yourself in the water. We will calm your heart as well as our trust in one another" she said, attempting to push you in the water. "No! No, no, no. What if something happens?!" your voice straining over, before she replied calmly "Nothing will happen, because I am here".

And how could you say no to Lottie? So, you started to fall back in the darkness, the cold waters nipping at your skin making your breath shallow. All the while, she held your head and hand, gently guiding you.

There you were, at her mercy. You trusted her with your life and she had to be responsible for it. In her eyes, this was the most pure form of adoration. She adored you and you adored her.

The baptism was over.

When you resurfaced, she had quickly guided you back to land and had dried you with a towel promptly left on the sand. With her hands on your cheeks, then, Lottie had kissed you. So deeply and lovingly it made your heart ache. Her tongue found yours, overpowering you, cutting your breath away.

You were so distracted that you didn't hear the sound of movement behind Lottie. When her lips fell away from yours and you could look away, a shiver went down your spine.

Masks. A group of masked people stood before you. Some depicting bears, some birds, some wolves, some humans. All lined up, looking directly at you. "L-Lottie... what is this?" you didn't know why your first thought was that Lottie must've been behind it, but something screamed at you that this was indeed the case. "My love" she said, "you need to trust me. To let me cherish you. It's what It wants".

You backed away from her, your blood freezing in your veins. Someone, a man, stopped you in your tracks. He trapped your arms into his, uncaring of your trashing. "Let yourself be one with the Wilderness" Lottie said, no light behind her eyes. As if something possessed her. She pulls a knife from behind her, and for a split moment you think that Lottie will kill you, but the blade slashes across her fingertip. She draws a symbol on your forehead with her blood, trickles of it streaming down on your eyes.

"We hear the Wilderness and the Wilderness hears us" the chants rise in the air, filling the empty dark sky. Lottie's voice is louder than everyone else, and finally the voices die down, as hers is the last one still chanting. When she is done, her body turns to yours, and she utters a single word.

"Run".

You don't need to be told twice. You sprint in the forest, leaving wet trails behind you. The masked people follow you, searching, predicting where you will go, if you will hide. Lottie is the last one to join the hunt, her white dress engulfed by the forest's darkness.

It seems like the forest itself has a mind, trying to prevent you from running further away. Branches claw as your skin and dress, thorns planting in your flesh, wind blowing so you can't understand if the sounds you hear are the wind or howls.

You run, you run and run, until every bone of your body, every organ and every drop of blood screams at you to stop. And just as you were about to fall down in exhaustion, you see something in the dark. A house, one that looks like it had been left to time's mercy.

The walls are dirty and rotten, the white plaster almost unrecognizable under years of dirt. Your sixth sense tells you to get away, to search for another place, but there isn't anything else that could shelter you.

The air inside smells of old, wilted matter. It makes your stomach close and you try not to vomit, pinching your nose while you explore the rest of the house, searching for a hiding place until morning. Your plan was to hide and travel down to the nearest town, then, telling the authorities that up in the mountains, a cult was trying to sacrifice people to a made up entity. You wanted to hope that by doing so, you would help others to not follow your steps.

From the hall, you turned left towards the kitchen. It was empty, except for a table with scattered documents on it. Photos of an old soccer team, articles about the disappearance of a plane in the wilds of Canada, a symbol... The same one of the compounds. Bit by bit, you started to understand. In between the documents, some by psychologists and others by articles, you found a small diary. It was a brown leather diary, expensive from the looks of it. The pages were yellow and some started to rot away, but you could still make up the words written on them. The words were written with a tremulous hand: it seemed like whoever was the author, they must have written quickly, in fear of being found out.

'12th January, 1998. I hate it here. It's cold in the winter, and it makes me remember that place. I try to help the other patients, but the nurses forbid me from doing it. They told me to stop talking to It, and told me it isn't real. I know they are lying. It must be real, or all we did was for nothing. All the hurt was for nothing. It can't be. I know it's real. It hears me, I hear it'.

Something about this made you shiver. Could It be whatever Lottie was chanting to earlier? 1998... the plane crash happened in 1996; it couldn't be a coincidence. You take the diary and a couple of documents in your hand, before continuing to explore. Nothing seems out of the ordinary: the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom; everything is neatly placed. You spot a dark flight of stairs at the very back of the house. It doesn't look inviting at all, and you're almost ready to leave, when you hear something outside. Sounds of steps circling the house. The hair of your back rises up and every fear you had of the stairs is thrown out of the window.

As quietly as possible, you reach the second floor, listening for the sounds. The floor is far darker than the first one: so much so that you can't see anything. You wait a minute for your eyes to get used to the dark and then continue walking down the hall, towards what you assume is a bedroom. Just before you reach it, you hit a metal tube: it's a ladder, red and rusted and it leads you to the attic. You are about to get past it when you hear the front door of the house open: someone is inside.

Quickly you head up the ladder and in the dark attic. It's not all dark you realize, some lights shine in the middle of the room, circling...

An idol. An old idol made of old bones and burnt hay. The idol was planted in the wooden floor, its arms branches extending outwards, bent up as if it was deep in ecstasy. Its torso was made out with a large ribcage, so you suspected it to be of non-human origin; inside the organs were replaced with hay and fresh grass. Lifeless eyes stared back at you, antlers protruding from the back of the skull.

You feel someone's arms circle your stomach, placing their nose in the crook of your neck. "I knew you'd come here" her voice said, "It told me". Lottie holds you tight against herself, mumbling incoherently on your skin. "L-let go of me you witch!" you try to shove her away, propting Lottie to just let go of you: as such, you fall in the candle circle, spilled wax burning at your skin.

Lottie watches you with adoration and hunger. Upon your fall into the circle, her eyes lit up. She raises her arms up in the air -much like the idol itself- and towards you, in some sort of divine bliss. "Yes! Yes! It- It choose you!" she says out loud, "I'm so glad it was you!".

You trembled in both fear and anger, "How did- How did you know I was here?" you say, looking up at Lottie, shrouded by the darkness of the room. "It told me, of course" she says with an uncanny smile.

You're shocked by this new side of Lottie, and for a moment you forget what she had done to you. "You are crazy Lottie! You tried to kill me!" her eyes widen at your accusations, "Kill you? No, no, I didn't try to kill you... I just wanted to...". Your anger makes you uncaring of Lottie's emotions, so you lash out at her "Just wanted to what, Lottie?! Sacrifice me to your creepy god-thing?!".

It's like she's torn between the illusion of her god and the reality that she had scared you. "I thought- I thought you were going to kill me! I thought what we had for all these months was for nothing!", what she does next makes your skin crawl. She watches between you and the idol behind, her eyes filled with tears. "No I wan- I needed to know that It accepts you" she said, coming closer to your body.

Suddenly Lottie grabs your wrists with force, like she sees you but her ears are filled with whispers from old ghosts and gods. "And now, I know it does!" she almost looks delirious. Lottie shakes your wrists in her hands and cries; the black abyss of her eyes staring back at yours.

"Can't you understand? This is It's love, my love" you try to move from her grasp, but even in her old age, Lottie still proves to be as strong as she once was. "Y-You were hunted, weak, and you lived! You lived! And now It recognizes you as part of Itself" a connection is made in your brain.

Shivers run down your body, at the realization that either you aren't alone in this old attic, or you are alone with a roman and her ghosts. Either is terrifying. "What... what is It, Lottie?" but it's far too late to run from Lottie or the ghosts in her head. You are sure that either will haunt you anyway, if you manage to escape that is. She pauses, contemplating your words. "It..." she tries to put a name, a significance to whatever this It is, but she decides against it, instead opting to close her arms on you, one caging your body on hers and the other cradling the back of your head.

Her voice is lifeless while it whispers in your ear "It doesn't matter. You are one of us now". That last phrase confuses you, "I have... I have been here for months now. I was always one of you, no?" she shakes her head, cranes her neck to look down on you.

"No, one of us".

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets fic #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you

86 notes · View notes

brittle-doughie · 2 months ago

Note

Greetings! CCCC Anon here once again! its been a while since I've sent an ask due to lack of ideas but here we are! Couldn't pick what I want to send first and ended up deciding to sent a couple of incorrect quotes.

(p.s some small changes are made on the 3 sides, Emotional side now has wings(they're now slightly burnt and all new feathers are dull due to instinctual side), logical side has a small floating blue crown, floating sharp metallic fingers and is basically a fully sentient robot, and instinctual's right side is dark red with bright red outlines, three horns and a tail with it's head resembling that of the head of a trident.)

Emotional side: (Do you take constructive criticism?)

Logical side: [No, only cash or credit.]

Instinctual side:*holding papers with lyrics*{Does anyone understand their parts?}

Emotional side:(Uh I broke my gun.)

Instinctual side:{I don't care, *Throws all the papers to the side* Wonderful!}

Instinctual side:{Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life.}

Emotional side:(*concerned* U-um..)

Logical side:[Please never become a surgeon.]

Instinctual side:{Someone's trying to break in. Its totally crowned cupcake and royal icing Call the cops!}

Emotional side:(*Pulls out a glock* I got this.)

Logical side:[Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-]

Hero cookie: I have a bad feeling about this.

Logical side:[What do you mean?]

Emtional side:(Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?)

Logical side:[....No?]

Logical side:[Violence isn't the answer.]

Emotional side:(You're right. Violence is a question and the answer is yes.)

Instinctual side:{No-}

Emotional side:(How stupid do you think I am?!)

Logical side:[You really want an honest answer to that?]

Instincual side:{I only have 2 emotions: exhaustion and stress. and somehow always feeling both simultaneously.}

Ananas dragon cookie: Uh- I-

Lotus dragon cookie: Well, are you going to say something?

Ananas dragon cookie: WELL I DON'T HOW TO RESPOND TO THAT!

Y/n, who just became whole few weeks ago and is already sick and tired of all of the obssesive cookie's bullshit:<What, I can't be in a bad mood? Like cookies think, "Oh, Y/n's such a nice person, Y/n is so happy-go-lucky! Y/n Can't be in a bad mood!">

Pure vanilla cookie: Y/n-

Y/n:<Well you know what?*Holding the potion that resulted in them splitting into 3 sides* Y/n CAN be in a bad mood.>

Pure vanilla cookie:Y/n please put the potion down we can talk this out-

Y/n now deranged:<And right now, Y/n IS in a bad mood.>

Pure vanilla cookie: Y/N NO-

Y/n:*Chugs down the entire potion and splits into 3 again*

Emotional side:(...Why..)

Logical side:[Oh you have got to be kiddin-}

Instinctual side:{OH FOR FUCKS SAKE-}

I would add something here on the end of this ask but idk how what to put.

Sincerely- CCCC Anon

The incorrect quotes are, indeed, incorrect.

#brittle answers

42 notes · View notes

myysaints · 2 years ago

Note

Hello, I saw your requests are open.... if you feel like it and like the idea I'd like to see Japanese kpop idol reader x yuki where reader had been an idol for like 7 years and she's very private like when someone asks about her TMI she's just like i bought this shirt on sale 😐 so when she was asked in an interview if she watches any sports or stuff her members sort of out her for being an f1 fan and then her group gets invited to a race where her and yuki get spotted standing a bit too close (nothing couple worthy but they did look suspicious)... ensure f1 and her fans on twitter being in flames where a lot of her fans are like, lol no I refuse to believe we might lose our queen to a guy that goes vroom vroom but it just gets quite after that so no one thinks about it until a picture of them kissing gets out and people are like I waited three and a half years, Asian man did it in one week only for her company to announce that they had known each other since childhood and they are childhood sweethearts with a 10 year history and like the whole f1 grid being like yuki! You had a girlfriend this entire time

So sorry if this is too specific, if you don't like it you can just skip the request 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

°˖ ⊹ ꒰ YT22 ꒱ REAL OR NO? ─ YUKI TSUNODA

... (PART ONE)

YUKI TSUNODA x f!japanese!kpop idol!reader

⌗︙・ summary — you’ve known yuki tsunoda all your life, but the world doesn’t know that. so when your relationship is accidentally called into the spotlight, fans understandably freak out – after all, who thought that these two worlds would collide?

genre — social media au, fc: sakura from le sserafim

notes — thank you anon for the request!!! it was so cute i spent the whole day absolutely going ham on this fic, which is why it's... so.... so long.... i also changed some details but they're very very minor. hope i did your request justice, and enjoy!

www.youtube.com

[ENG SUB] WHAT SECRET IS LE SSERAFIM’S Y/N HIDING FROM FANS? | KNOWING BROS

yourusername uploaded to their story. 29s

[caption: Thank you alphataurif1 for having me at the Suzuka GP! 파이팅 🤍💙!]

yourusername

Liked by le_sserafim, yukitsunoda0511, alphataurif1, and 3,274,302 others

🏷 alphataurif1

yourusername ただいま (I’m home) ~ 🇯🇵🏎

view all 1,009,284 comments

alphataurif1 かわいい (Cute) 😊

Liked by yukitsunoda0511 yourusername thank you admin!

yukitsunoda0511 幸運をもたらしてくれてありがとう (Thank you for bringing me good luck)！

yourusername どういたしまして (You’re welcome)！おめでとう (Congratulations)！

seulgiphoria SLAY RECOGNISES SLAY

hannitokki begging on my knees for just one chance

landonorris Seeing you in the paddock today made me fearless 😉

yourusername too bad that didn't help you go faster ... dearhyunjin LMFAOOOO SHE HUMBLED HIM REAL QUICK

www.youtube.com/Formula1

PRE-RACE INTERVIEW WITH YUKI TSUNODA | ABU DHABI GRAND PRIX 2023

f1wagupdates

Liked by 932,882 others

f1wagupdates Submitted by anon 🙈 SPOTTED! After the Yuki Tsunoda and an unknown woman (could it be the same girl from Suzuka?) seen entering the driver’s hotel lift together. The pair were clad in matching outfits. According to anon, the woman had a mask over her face and “looked like she didn’t want to be recognised”. 🤔 Who could this mystery woman be?

view all 546,237 comments

miradrivescars THEYRE IN MATCHING OUTFITS 😭😭😭

ynsserafim someone find where y/n is QUICK

isaluvsyn they just finished their world tour right?? i think their last stop was in dubai channieslix that was like 3 weeks ago babe im sure y/n is looooong gone and back in korea by now LOL

bitemelando it’s the same hat as the one in the suzuka picture so it’s probably the same girl

verstrappon yall gotta chill it’s just a regular schmegular black cap damn 🤣

minimumverstappen kpop twt is gonna have a field day with this one lol

...to be continued !

#yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #yuki tsunoda insta au #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 #˖⁺‧₊˚ 📂 ── my writing #꒰ ⁺‧₊˚ [🏁] formula 1 #📬 … you’ve got mail!

669 notes · View notes

lees-chaotic-brain · 1 year ago

Note

I want to tell Inumaki that he is Perfect. He is so expressive and loving even if he can't communicate...I feel like he would be sad for not being enough BUT LIKE HE IS THE NICEST IN WHOLE WORLD 😭😭😭😭 cryin rn

I was feeling really down, but writing this made me feel better, so thank you anon for sending this lovely little idea in.

CW: Shibuya spoilers, mentions of past injury, loss of limb, hurt/comfort, implied depression, insecurity, scars, non-sexual nudity

Collab Guide | Collab Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

“Hey baby, I’m back.”

You called out to your boyfriend as you stepped into your shared apartment. There was no response, but his shoes were in the doorway and his coat was hanging on his hook. Padding into the living space you still couldn’t find him.

“Hey, babe? Toge?”

Concerned you call out again. You knew things were rough for him right now with the five year anniversary of the loss of his arm coming up next week, but you hoped it wasn’t bad enough for him to run off.

The thought caused panic to bubble in you, your chest constricting as you hurriedly went to check the bedroom. The room was a mess, pictures and random scraps of paper strewn about. Picking up a few near the entrance, you realized that they were artifacts of your high school days. Pictures of you and Toge on dates, hanging out with the other second years, and sweet notes he wrote for you made up the mess scattered across the plush carpet.

Then your heart sank. As you surveyed the whirlwind of memories, you realized that they all had something in common. They were all from before the Shibuya Incident. Before he lost his arm.

Following the sound of running water, you pick your way across the room and push open the bathroom door. A blast of steam hits you in the face as you flip the lights and fan on. There he was.

He was sitting in the shower still wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, unresponsive as the near scalding water cascaded down on him. Without a second thought you peel off your shirt and socks before climbing into the shower with him. Crouching before him, you gently brush his sopping bangs out of his eyes.

“Hey babe. Found you.”

You smile softly at him, cupping his face with your right hand. He doesn’t respond, but he leans slightly into your touch.

“Can I hold you?”

You keep your voice gentle and quiet, your heart breaking for him. A slight, barely perceptible nod was the only sign that he even heard you. Maneuvering so you were sitting beside him, you wrap one arm around his back and lean against him. After a moment, he tilts his head so it’s resting on yours.

Sitting in silence, you give him the space and time he needs. After a long stretch of time, he pulls away and turns so you are facing him. You place your hand on his knee and squeeze it, silently telling him that you’re there for him, and he can take all the time he needs.

Clumsily, he begins signing with his remaining hand.

Why are you still with me?

Of all the things he could have asked or said, this was not one of the things you would have anticipated. You take a moment to think. Then you reply simply and bluntly, wanting to make sure that he understood what you were saying.

“Because you’re you. And I love you.”

He looks frustrated and his signing becomes jerkier as he speeds up.

But look at me!

He makes a vague gesture towards his entire body.

“I am. And all I see is the man I love.”

You have an idea where this is coming from, but you want to wait until he says it because the idea that he would think so lowly of himself physically pained you.

But I’m useless! His shoulders slump and he repeats the hand motion. Useless.

“You’re not useless.”

You say firmly.

“Not even in the slightest.”

I am though.

The haunted look of self-loathing looked unnatural on his gorgeous face.

I’m practically useless as a jujutsu sorcerer. I already have this technique that hurts me more than it helps others. Now I can’t even make up for my weakness with my physical ability because I lost my arm.

Tears join the shower water dripping down his face.

And not only am I a worthless jujutsu sorcerer, I’m a pathetic boyfriend. I can’t hold you, the person I love more than anything else in this world, in my arms. I’m not strong enough to protect you. Hell I can’t even tell you I love you with my words!

He averts his gaze to the water going down the drain.

And on top of all that, I’m selfish. I know I’m worthless. I know I’m not good enough for you, but I need you. I’m not a good enough person to let you go.

Finally done, his hand dropped to his side with a small splash.

“Hey.”

Your voice is loving, but insistent as you speak.

“Look at me.”

He complies, his lovely violet eyes dark and hopeless.

“You told me to look at you earlier. And I am. Do you know what I see?”

A pathetic man who-

You continue talking, ignoring him.

“I see the man I fell in love with in high school. He’s grown up and changed, but at heart he’s the same person.”

You caress his cheek, looking deep into his eyes.

“His face has sharpened and become more handsome.”

He shuddered against your palm as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and jawline.

“His eyes show that he’s seen and experienced indescribable horrors. He’s lost that innocence. But I love him all the more for it. Because I’ve changed too. I’ve lost my innocent belief that we are untouchable. I’ve become harsher, more pessimistic, and less emotional. But you know what’s in my heart?”

You take his hand and place it on your chest. Quietly he watches you, and you can see that your words are starting to penetrate the self-hatred clouding his mind.

“In here lives the silly teenage girl who thought that she and all her loved ones were untouchable, invincible. The girl who cared too much about anything and anyone. The girl who spent hours daydreaming about going on romantic dates with her white haired classmate that always had a mischievous spark in his eyes. The girl who kept a meticulous journal of her dream wedding to a boy with purple eyes and beautiful markings around his mouth.”

The corners of Inumaki’s mouth lifted a miniscule amount and his eyes softened as he remembered. Encouraged, you reach behind you and turn the water off. Continuing to speak, you begin removing his soaked sweatpants.

“As for your inability to tell me that you love me with your words, that has never bothered me.”

Placing the sweatpants beside you to deal with later, you gently tug on his arm until he stands and steps out of the shower.

“Honestly, I like it better that way.”

He shoots you a disbelieving look at your words, but allows you to dry him off before helping him into a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants.

“Really, I do. It’s so easy to say the words ‘I love you’ and not mean them at all. It’s a lot harder to fake it or lie if you have to express them through your actions. The way you worked so hard everyday to make sure I knew how you felt made me feel even more secure and loved than a few shallow words could.”

You quickly dry yourself off and change into a fresh pair of panties and a new shirt. Leading out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, you sit in the middle of your bed and lay a towel across your lap before patting it. Obediently he laid down and put his head on your lap. You began drying his hair.

“You’re special, Toge. You express yourself through physical touch and acts of service, and have never verbally said the words ‘I love you’ to me, but let me tell you. Not once, in the five and a half years we’ve been dating, have I doubted for even a second that you loved me. Do you understand? I don’t need you to be able to say the words to me. I already know.”

After you finished drying his hair, he sat up and faced you.

But what about my arm? Do you really want to be with me still? I’m disfigured and disabled.

The look in your eyes is so tender he can barely stand it. Why? Why do you look at him with such love and affection?

“Toge.”

You breathe, the look on your face telling him that you knew exactly what was running through his mind.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because of these.”

You squeeze his bicep.

“I fell in love with you because of this.”

You tap his temple.

“And because of this.”

You lay your palm flat against his chest. Looking up at him, he can see the sincerity shining in your eyes.

“I love you for you, Toge. You could be the ugliest, most ratchet mf to ever roam the face of the planet and I would still love you. Because you will always be my person. And I hope that I’ll always be yours.”

He nods, smiling at your word choice as tears well in his eyes, relief hitting him like a freight train as you managed to say exactly what he needed to hear. Tugging your arm, you help him pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he buries his face in your neck as you drape your arms around his neck and card through his hair.

He presses repeated kisses against the crook of your neck, each one a silent apology for doubting the love you shared.

You rested your cheek against his soft white hair and took comfort in the intimacy of the moment. Kissing the side of his head, you whisper the words you so desperately want him to engrain into his soul and never forget.

“You, Inumaki Toge, are perfect. Just the way you are.”

#lee's brain writes #end of 2023 collab #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader #enjoy this soft insecure baby boy inumaki #bc in my eyes he's a little gremlin/troll who loves to make mischief #also a meme master #but i was feeling depressed and sentimental so here you go #idk if you're going to get an inumaki fic not about him being a little shit again

291 notes · View notes