#YOUR TALENT IS JUST FUCKING IMMENSE

[joffyworld]

I FUCKING FORGOT TO FOLLOW THIS ARTIST AGAIN AHHHHHH

"You stay sentimental Snow Shepherd, the only thing that commands you is your tender madness"

I did @skyartworkzzz 's "draw this in your style" challenge! Then proceeded to hyperfixate on the concept of lamb going crazy and freezing everything

[rxmxa]

random astro observations part 14. ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆✨

✨just for fun im just talking random ass shit based on PERSONALL observations..✨ part 13 here. 🎬

tw: mention of death on the last observations.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅pisces, cancer and scorpio risings WILLL be treating the date like a job interview. With that earth 7h (virgo, capricorn and taurus) TRUST that we have checked out your references and will get back to you in 2-5 business days. 💅 but no fr we need security bc we are real strict over here.🔒

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅its only to protect our hearts bc we just truly desire someone we can emotionally connect with (water 5h) and also be open to talk to about our fears and desires and the other shit we keep to ourselves (air 8h + 12h) 😤

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅my friend was telling me about how the lines that actors get immense praise for end up being improvised most of the time and that really reminded me of the aqua-leo axis. When you detach and are willing to experiment (aqua) the more likely you are to be recognized because you are becoming in tune with your natural talents (leo).

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅Every single time I'm in the shower I always get an epiphany or an idea of some sort or make a connection (usually its me thinking about peoples birth charts LOL) but every single fucking time im like wtf I gotta remember this when I get out this is good ass info! and I always forget!!!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ It has to be my uranus in the 12h triggering that. Uranus= sudden downloads of information. 12h= secluded spaces, like the shower. I guess thats why I forgot so easily though (real 12h subconcious shit). Next time im bringing a whiteboard in there or some shit

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I was talking to my pisces venus coworker and she was saying that for as long as she could remember she had always daydreamed of love. She said she would was always trying to mold herself into the ideal version of what her crushes liked (its in her 7h) and as a 7h sun myself I was shook but I also understood how this happens even in a subconcious way u can mirror people. but the love she's looking for is literally HERS. she has so much love to give and she was like who can accept this? YOU. GIVE it to yourself.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ She had been in a relationship before with someone who was SHIT person but its like she kept forgiving him or in a sense blocking it out. like thats the thing about pisces placements they will talk about some unhinge ass shit someone does to them in a such a casual way it will have you being like oh okay for a sec until you're like oh,, oh yeah no thats bad.. really bad. I say this as a pisces rising.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ and AGAIN AND AGAIN that's what helps me as someone with a lot of neptune aspects, a pisces rising, pluto squares, pluto in the 10h, lilith in the 11h, like ppl have done me FUCKING DIRTY in social and groups settings and I use to make it so much worse for myself by not nipping it in the bud. that's why anytime someone does some shit that FEELS FUCKED up you take that as a sign.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ^ dont sit there and try to rationalize it, dont try to put logic in it, dont talk about how well, when they were in 2nd grade their hamster died so maybe its their trauma. When people show you who they are you ACCEPT IT. if someone does something that a piece of shit would only do, then accept that maybe they suck. I dont mean your friend forgot to get you a straw when they bought you a drink. I mean when people do shit on purpose that puts your well-being (emotional, mental, physical) in harms way. trust me bby ik what im talking about >___<

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ and honestly, if you are plutonian or have a lot of neptune aspects or saturn in your chart as well, you're gonna learn shit the hard way. With different energy ofc. Pluto energy = will have you learning through trauma like someone passing away or trying to sabotage you. Neptune energy = will have you learning through deception like someone backstabbing you. Saturn energy= will have you learning through roadblocks, like other people being able to get shit the easy way out like a parent paying for their stuff and you having to bust your ass to get it.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ pluto in your chart can also show where people try to humble you, not like a saturnian restrictive way but more like to put you in your place because they could feel intimidated. for ex I have pluto in the 10h and my coworkers will say backhanded shit like "Oh woooow you really are going all out huh?" like instead of being normal and being like wow that is great work! they try to subtly hint that maybe im the one doing too much instead of it being them doing the bare minimum.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ If you have pluto in the 1h people could just say in general that "you're too much" or "too much to deal with" or "abrasive." Pluto in the 3h and during conversations people might look around, eyes wide, wanting you to tone it down or say that you're being inappropriate or too intense. Pluto in the 4h and people ESPECIALLY your family trying to humble you by bringing up the past: "Oh you like that now? I remember when you were a kid you..." Pluto in the 4h will especially get humbled by their family anytime they want to change or try something different than the way they were raised, like girl?! this is a family not a damn CULT.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I have a pluto in the 4h friend who has family members that will tell the most fucked up stories about what they do to each other but then sigh and be like "but family is family so we have to accept them" or her family members say stuff like "blood is thicker than water." like no... pluto in the 4h ppl, family is who YOU CHOSE!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I have a coworker who is sooo nice to me but still theres something that makes me feel suspicious of her and it makes me feel so bad BUT TO BE FAIR she does have her mars in my 7h and we did have a slight rift when we first started working together. but even now, im still like do u secretly hate me...

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ She has mars in the 12th house and I also feel like thats a big factor in it because 12h house energy is so... MUTED. with placements there you really gotta focus on peoples subtle acts of support that reveal their intentions versus their words (or lack of). And so far she has been a very supportive and helpful coworker. But yeah thats 12h energy honestly like my friends brother is a cancer sun and mercury in the 12h and she feels like hes so unloving and unsupportive and its bc baby boy is not gonna be straight up telling her! she needs to watch his actions, his mannerisms. she needs to understand him more through his actions over time rather than words. ofc it varies from chart to chart.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ people with 12h mars could often have people WONDERING, "oh are they mad at me?" or sun 12h ppl could have people wondering, "oh what are they hiding from me?" or mercury in the 12h could have people wondering, "Oh, what is that they are not saying?"

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Do you follow your profection years? For me, it’s wild how they line up. When I was in a 7H year, I got into my first serious relationship (classic 7H relationships vibe). When I was 7 years old, in my 8H year, my dad passed away (8H ruling death). Fast forward to my 9H year (travel), I visited family abroad after four years—that’s the longest I’ve EVER gone without seeing them.Then, in my 10H year (careers), I literally started my career. My 12H year? traumatic as fuck (I got into a serious car accident with friends and my back was fucked up and my friend had internal bleeding) but honestly the aftermath of that really forced me to grow the fuck up and surprise surprise, all of that happened bc I wasnt trusting my gut on who I was hanging out with. but anyhoo. Now I’m in a 1H year, and it’s all about me. I’m actually focusing on myself and being way more gentle in the process. It’s been kind of nice, honestly. if u wanna know yours just google annual profections it'll show u the wheel :)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Saturn transits in your chart mean fucking BUSINESS! I remember my friend got married when saturn (commitments) was transiting her 7h (marriage/ contracts). Saturn transits will have you reflecting on what you want long term in your life and what desperately needs to be checked in on or discarded or cleaned up.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Saturn in pisces transiting in my first house had me acting right. I remember when a "friend" aka someone who was at fault with that whole car accident shit (someone who I dont speak to anymore) had asked me to do some shady shit after it. I was like FUCK NO! no bc 1) I have integrity but also 2) if I tried to take the easy way out or bullshit I knew saturn was gonna beat my ass HARDER. im glad I trusted myself and was the bigger person.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Saturn was still transiting my 1H during the accident, but it had just come out of my 12H, where I was actively in therapy. In my 1H, I’d been feeling way more at peace and healed, so when I started making questionable choices with who I was hanging out with, it was like Saturn decided it was time to knock some sense into me.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ Me: walking on the ledge, ignoring my instincts, hanging with toxic people Saturn: "Don’t do that, you’re gonna fall." Me: falls Saturn: "DIDN’T I FUCKING TELL YOUUU?!"

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ but you know you live and you learn and at the end of the day it could have been so much worse (aka all of us being dead) but me and friend made a full recovery and everyone else had minor injuries.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I was watching this video called "the root cause of addiction" and in the video he said that at the end of the day we're are just looking for ways to go back to that child we once were and to experience genuine joy. and that was so 5h coded to me. He said in the video we do things like cooking or play video games because we want to get that joy back. The 5th house is all about sex, good fortune, art, creativity, pleasure, entertainment, birth, children. We really can use our 5th house to actively nurture our inner child.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ for example, cancer or moon in the 5th house wants to go back to space where they feel safe, warm, and comfortable. feeling free to express ur softness and vulnerability. a place you love going back to! they can do this through cooking, baking, or watching your childhood favorite movie with family.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ the little things, like baking a pie or getting out an old art project help us connect with the childlike wonder and happiness that we still have inside us. You can find your own special, simple pleasures by looking into the 5th House in your chart. And even if ur childhood was not the best (I completely get that) you can nurture your inner child now !! your hobbies and fave past times r not silly they matter too

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ and think about the 5h-11h axis, if anything your hobbies and creativity (5h) helps you find your people and be in groups that actually align with what u love and care about (11h)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚and think about how sometimes that hobby or passion (5h) can bring u immense success, recognition and profit (11h)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ with pluto in aqua we are going to see people (aqua) transforming (pluto) their lives in all aspects in regard to their hobbies and passions (5h). People are gonna continue to explore what they love and find their niche and for some their success will skyrocket over night, for others the process might be slower. think about the ppl making bank rn from tiktok videos organizing their fridge. bc it just makes them happy to do it.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ tw: death. I'm not trying to end on a dark note, its merely a thought I had so please take this with a grain of salt. but speaking of pluto in aqua, that reminds me of this video I was watching about how the Romans would have the Gladiatorial games, where combatants fought each other or wild animals to the death, BECAUSE they were so overindulgent in all other areas in life....

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ like you have sooo much that your idea of pleasure just gets distorted in this sense. what do you want when you have had everything?. The scale of these events was astonishing, with sometimes hundreds of animals being killed in a single day. Pluto in aqua is going to transform the way as a society we view, experience and talk about death.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ there are ppl that are gonna have so much wealth and power and be so fucking bored that maybe in 20 years from now someone gets jailed or some shit to try to recreate that. I remember reading this story in high school about this rich man who had an isolated island and he would have people lost on it to hunt them for sport. iM NOT SAYING we're about to get put on the wall like those deers when pluto goes into aqua, im SAYING THO that shit like that, ideas like that, could pop up

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ I was also thinking about how pluto in aqua could mean more video games or tech or simulations (aqua) where you can try out how it feels like to die (pluto). like you can pick how and what you want to feel. some kind of shit like that. tech is only gonna keep getting more and more advanced now. we talk about the ipad kids and how they be on there typing and facetiming ppl and therye like 2 but imagine the kids growing up during pluto in aqua, I already know theyre gonna think we're soo uncool hahaha

[doromoni]

Take my Advice | MV1

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Ships : Max Verstappen x F1 Driver! Reader

Genre : Fluff

A/N : As per y’all request. A Max fic *tadaaaa*

Summary : Being a female driver in Formula 1 is already an achievement and now you are the leading candidate for the Red Bull seat. But Max Verstappen has some advice.

Masterlist

A question for Y/N please” A reporter stood with a mic in hand, staring you down — the condescension in his eyes was palpable. You could feel your skin crawl as you waited for the man’s question.

Darry? Larry? what was his name again? He was a reporter notorious for asking rude and borderline unethical questions to drivers. How did he continue to have access to F1, you could not answer. You were his favorite target just because you were born with the XX chromosome or that you were too glamorous and girly to be driving at the pinnacle of motorsport — his words exactly.

“People are speculating that you would be moving to Red Bull in 2025 or even earlier, however, you just placed P10 in the last race. How confident are you that you’d be promoted to that seat given your lack of consistency in driving so far? Shouldn’t you think Daniel Ricciardo’s a better option? ”

Barry? Sally? whatever his name was finished talking, yet his sticky gaze never left you.

The smile on your face slowly hardened as you tried to keep your cool. You felt your veins pulsate with rage and your jaw clenched with force. Your hand gripping the microphone that you held till it felt like snapping in half.

Everyone was speechless, including the other drivers that were with you. The people who were seated beside you had their mouths agape. The driver lineup was composed of You, Oscar, Lewis, and Nando, with Alex and Max by your side. Everyone could feel the intense tension in the air. The absolute ignorance and stupidity of his statement hung in on the air…

You were dominating the midfield given the car that RB had given you. You garnered points for your team consistently — only fucking up when your team fucked up their strategies. You were outperforming your teammate by miles and you were pulling miracles out of nothing in that car and in that team.

“Well Danny is a very talented driver and I respect him immensely. I truly do wish the best for him and the team, but it’s not my job to compare stats between us, no?“ You answered with a smile and nothing but praises left your mouth.

Mama said kindness and peace are what make life go around. You lived by this every single day of your life, no matter how difficult it may seem — a smile goes a long way. You chose to make peace and give way to others when opportunities presented itself. Rather catch flies with honey than vinegar right?

You were since then dubbed as the sunshine of Formula 1 — a title that you didn’t want … because it was another thing that you stole from Danny, at least that's what others think. Even when your path to your F1 seat had never been easy, every step you took was criticized just because of you being a girl, but you persevered and faced everything head-on. Through the midst of it all, you, Y/N L/N, were the driver who held smiles, kindness and cheers.

Y/N L/N the driver to always take the blow for the team, the scapegoat, you were always the 1st one to be the sacrifice. But still, you held your head up high and carried on… because it was an honor to have a seat in the first place.

“Let me just get some things straight” Lewis had taken to himself to talk seeing that Gary? Donny? seemed not willing to back down with the intent to make you react.

“Y/N has been nothing but consistent. Look at the charts properly” Lewis argued, his face holding concealed anger as he stared down the reporter

“Thank you for that Lewis, but I did check — Y/N has placed P5, P8, and P10 for the last consecutive races” The entire couch of drivers could only shake their heads in disbelief at the utter nonsense that the man continued to spout

You were driving a car that was projected to be at the back of the grid, yet here you are gaining points regularly. No offense to your teammate but you were dragging Danny through the mud — heck fellow drivers could bet their entire fortune that given a better car, you would be battling Max and Lando for the championship.

“Check again. Check your eyes too mate, cause it seems like you’re going blind” Gaps and oohs filled the room as Max, much to your surprise, butted with all seriousness in his voice.

Max was an enigma to you, the way he switches from a fire-breathing beast on the track to a literal cat-cuddling, sim-racing nerd and overall wholesome person once he finishes a race compelled you to explore and dig into the mind of Max Emilian Verstappen.

Yet you couldn’t because he was untouchable. The golden boy of Red Bull, the champion, their number 1. They would kill you if you got your business entangled with the Dutch driver. Fuck with him and you could kiss your chances at a seat in Red Bull goodbye. Unfortunately for you, you just had to have a big fat crush on the very same driver.

You weren’t even sure when your admiration for Max’s tenacity and sheer talent on the track turned into you looking at the Dutch with hearty eyes and wondering how he would taste on your lips. Maybe he would taste like the Red Bull he always seemed to drink or was it him tasting entirely of something else….. Oh, you were doing it again! Yup, you were indeed doomed.

Everyone on your team said to keep your distance and you did! Not that it was hard because Max did the same. It was weird he was always friendly to Daniel and Checo and even the other RB and Red Bull staff, but Max had this certain “coolness” when interacting with you. He was never rude or anything like that… Max just seemed guarded. Fuck! why did it have to be Max?!

“Y/N, anything to add?” the present hit you quick and fast — and that present was every pair of eyes in the room zoning in on you and your next statement.

You had so much to say and yet you presented the pr smile you practiced way too much, the smile the mirror in your driver's room knew too well. And with that same practiced smile, you stared down the reporter and uttered “Nope, nothing else from me. Thanks”

You swore you could hear Max scoff silently. Your head snapped to the Red Bull driver beside you instantly. You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t Max directly looking back at you with those piercing blue eyes and an eyebrow cocked upwards.

It seemed that you forgot how to blink because you just stared right into his gaze, your heart accelerating by the second — you had the same feeling you had at every start of a race; the adrenaline pumping in your veins, but instead of pushing your foot on the gas… you wanted to push your lips to his. WOAH. You needed to get a grip on yourself! Where the hell did that even come from?

Neither the two of you were backing down, only breaking eye contact when another reporter asked a question to Max. But before Max had answered, you saw him lightly shake his head sheepishly as the words “so fucking cute” whispered out of his mouth.

***

You were so fucking gutted. It was another race that your team had screwed you over for your teammate once again.

You were leading and you had clean air in front of you and your teammate was 5 seconds behind, everything was in place and you were in P10 when you suddenly heard from the radio to let Daniel overtake you.

You loved Danny, but that was so unfair! You tried to argue over the radio yet your appeals are once again disregarded by the team. You followed team orders and thought that this was for the long run that this would show that you were a team player and that you would be an asset as Max’s teammate in the future.

Yet no matter how much you tried to cheer yourself up or make excuses for the team, the anger and betrayal never dissipated.

You were dragging your feet towards your motorhome when suddenly you were pulled into the dark alley between your motorhome and McLaren’s hiding the two of you between used race tyres.

A shout was ready to leave your mouth when the person’s hand stopped you from doing so.

“It’s me, Max! Don’t shout” Max whispered as his eyes darted to see if anyone was looking.

The space between the motorhome wasn’t that spacious, so Max had you pushed into the wall. You could feel the heat radiating between the two of you, the taste of sticky champagne on Max’s hands transferring onto your lips.

The initial shock and Max’s closeness made you breathless and your mind spinning. What the hell is happening? Max slowly peeled his hand away from your lips.

“What the hell Max? You scared the shit out of me!” You wheezed as you breathed deeply, trying to steady your shakiness.

“There’s a difference between being nice and being a pushover. You can’t just bow down to every command your team gives you” Max had suddenly sprung on you. Your brain was reeling trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Max. I- uh… what?” only incomprehensible words fell out of your mouth.

Max held your shoulders as he bent down, his face now leveling yours. Max's face held all seriousness as his eyes, his eyes still shone with fire behind them even with the darkness that enveloped the two of you.

“Take my advice L/N, fight back and do what you want.” As Max said those last words — he was gone.

The only indication that told you that everything that happened was real was the Winner’s champagne tasting so sweet and tangy on your lips … the same champagne Max’s hand left.

***

“I chose Y/N” Max announced to the host and crew who were on the set. Everybody was shocked at the Dutch’s choice.

Red Bull and RB are filming another media junket for the fans to enjoy and everything was running normally till Max chose you as his teammate. Everyone, including you, was expecting him to pick Daniel when the staff said to choose your teammate from the other racing team.

“Aww! Max you’ve betrayed our years of friendship” Danny acted hurt as he held onto his heart, earning chuckles from everyone— which effectively diffused the atmosphere.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at your teammate’s antics. You made your way to Max’s side, careful not to be too close or too far for fans to overanalyze.

The distance between you and Max was at least 2 feet when he took it upon himself to step nearer towards you and smile his charming smile at you when you looked up at him quizzically.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, but your curiosity won over your nerves. What is going on with Max this couple of races? He had been very attentive and approachable towards you all of a sudden. Opening doors for you delivering water bottles, and giving your favorite snacks during media shoots and lots more. Not that you were complaining!

You couldn’t help yourself but ask the driver what was going on. You surveyed the room and found that everyone was focused on Checo and Danny.

You lifted your hand and discretely tugged on Max's shirt to gain his attention. And it worked as he found himself looking down into your eyes with curiosity.

“What is it Y/N?” Max asked lowly trying not to get everyone else to look at the two of you.

“What’s up with you recently?” You whispered back.

Max’s brows slightly crunched together.

“What do you mean?” He asked confused

“ I mean, you’re being so nice and attentive to me.” As the words spilled put your mouth, you realized just how stupid the question was. It was just Max being a decent person, right??

Max only chuckled and bent down to your ears, his lips ghosting the shell of it, sending goosebumps all over your body

“I’m just taking my advice Y/N. I’m doing what I want to do… team rules be damned”

***

Knocks echoed through your hotel room as you heard Max call for you to open the door.

You opened the door to a disheveled Max.

“Max?” you called out to the driver who pushed himself into your room and sat on your bed.

Ever since that day of the Media junket, you and Max grew closer together. You got to know Max than what was on the surface and you two quickly grew a bond that was more than just friendship.

The tension was there yet neither the two of you were acting on it. From his lingering touches that drove you crazy and the flirting disguised as banter you exchange on the daily— frustrating as it may seem, you loved every second of it.

You joined Max in your bed, you sat beside him and took his hand in your own. Your entwined fingers looked so unusual yet right together, it made you smile.

You feel Max tug on your hand trying to catch your attention. You looked up at him with a questioning stare

“They’re switching Checo and Daniel next season… they dropped you out of the roster” Max spoke carefully.

The smile on your face dropped instantly, as his words ran through your mind. Your face is painted white from disbelief.

They choose Daniel over you?

“What?” You whispered, the hurt and confusion evident in your face.

“You deserve to know before they announce it to everyone… you don’t deserve to be humiliated”

You were speechless. Tears didn’t even come pouring down … you were just in shock. You thought that the Red Bull seat was your, done deal. You’re so far away in the points from your teammate. Your driving was close to flawless … so why?!

You couldn’t even say anything. You just felt Max pull you into his embrace.

“If what I’ve heard from Mercedes is true, take it. Screw loyalty, that team failed you in every way. You deserve so much better”

***

“Y/N, final lap. Verstappen is 2 seconds behind, push the car. I repeat push the car” You hear Vince, your race engineer over the radio.

“With pleasure” you felt yourself smile. The excitement mixed with adrenaline pumping in your veins as you floored your Mercedes, driving the car to its maximum

Everything was a blur, you were on autopilot as you made every turn perfectly. As the past events that led to this moment played in your mind.

How you took Max’s advice and moved to Mercedes. You remember the relief when you penned your signature down on that contract as Toto was smiling wide at you, shaking your hand firmly as he welcomed you to his family.

You remember the feeling of sharing your first-ever podium with Max and him being so proud of you and what you’ve done so far. You were still in that scap RB car and this podium was the final “fuck you” to them, before you announce you switching teams. The self-doubt in your heart is being washed away by the sweet champagne that Max sprayed all over you. You knew you made the right choice.

And you couldn’t forget how Max had been with you when you finally dropped the bomb on RB and Red Bull. He had been through with you with every step.

And here you are now, chasing your first win in Formula 1 with the team capable to give you a winning car. You see the chequered flag waving and you hear the crowd roar as you finally cross the line

“Y/N L/N YOU ARE A GRAND PRIX WINNER!” You hear Toto over the radio and your team is cheering in the background.

“YES! YES! THANK YOU EVERYONE! WE DID IT” You shouted back as you parked your car on Parc Ferme.

you stepped out of the car you ran to the waiting arms of your team as they cheered and congratulated you continuously. When you finally to Vince who smiled so wide as he patted your helmet; his smile grew even wider as he looked behind you.

“Remove your helmet and balaclava.” He said as he offered his hand saying to give it to him. You looked at him confused but did as he said.

“Turn around” He shouted with glee as you heard everyone starting to cheer louder.

You did turn around and there stood Max Verstappen with a bouquet at hand, a smile on his face as his arms were opened wide.

Your jaw dropped and your hand covered your mouth in shock. The entire world was watching yet neither of you cared as you ran into Max's arms. You buried your face in his chest as his arm enveloped you.

“Hi boyfriend” You greeted the Red Bull driver with a grin

“Does Toto know?” Max asked as he looked at your team principal and mechanics that were shocked at what they were seeing.

“Well thanks to you EVERYONE now knows. Your not really slick there buddy” You giggled at the Red Bull driver’s antics.

Max kissed the side of your head before mumbling into your hair “ Well gotta let everyone know you’re mine . Congratulations on the win, Schat! I told you you’ll win ~ I could feel it”

You feel yourself chuckle and shake your head. You gazed up at the Dutch driver.

“Shut up and kiss me you dork” You whispered to Max, a gleam in your eye that he sure noticed.

“Yes, Ma’am” Max’s lips finally met yours in a sweet and passionate kiss — you knew what Max tasted like and you wouldn’t mind having another taste. Everything was just perfect and you would not exchange it for anything in the world.

“I always wondered what you tasted like” You said when you pulled apart. Your hand ran through his hair, something you wanted to do for ages.

“Really? What do I taste like?” Max asked clearly amused. His hand on your lower back now guiding the two of you to be interviewed.

“Sweat” You joked, and he only rolled his eyes and kissed you once more.

***

“ A question for Y/N please” You internally groaned and rolled your eyes as you heard his voice once again. This man was an actual menace.

“Yes, Hillary?” You said into the mic, a sickeningly sweet smile on your lips as you stared him down.

“It’s Harry” He corrected you.

“Oops, sorry Larry! please continue” You hear your fellow drivers snicker and hide laughs beside you.

It was like full circle, the same set of drivers in the interview — sat in the same positions yet now you were driving for Mercedes, clad in black instead of RB’s white race suit.

“Do you think Max let you win during the last race? He does fancy you.” You hear yourself laugh and you aren’t afraid to let others see. You’re no longer holding back for the sake of your team.

“I don’t know, Barry. I don’t know if you watched the race, but if you did might have seen that I already led the race at turn 1 till the final lap. no? And I sure do hope that he fancies me, considering he is my boyfriend afterall” You replied and couldn’t help yourself as you shot him a wink.

“You’re very confident, now that you’re in Mercedes. Huh?” Ohhh he was seething, if this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears.

“ Yeah, I’m getting comfortable in my seat, thanks for asking. I’m only getting started” You said with a shit-eating grin.

To your left, you hear Max utter the words “ That’s my girl” proudly.

A/N ++ : I don’t know what to feel about my writing here tbh~ My brain is fried 🙃

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[bakugosgothhoe]

You made reader a different kind of hero.

It's beautiful.

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[wakeup01]

hi i would love if you could transform me into your stupid foot slave.

Clean Slate

“What do you want to be in life?” I ask you as we relax at my place at the end of our date. You give a rather non committal shrug as I peel off my socks and rest my feet on the living room table.

“Huh. No career ambitions? Artist, scientist…cleaner?” I smile at you as you approach and sit across from me, scrunching your nose slightly while the scent of my feet wafts over to you.

“N—no. I guess not.” You reply sheepishly, your eyes leaving mine as they lower to my large feet.

“I’m sure we can find your place in life. You probably have lots to give. Talented at many things. Such as…cleaning.” I sway my feet back and forth on the table as I watch your eyes follow them. “Just keep watching.”

“Huh?” Distracted, you don’t even look away. My feet and their movements were utterly fascinating. “I—I don’t…”

“Cleaning.” I repeat bluntly. “I bet you’re good at cleaning.” Your back bends as you naturally feel yourself lean forward, your head lowering slightly as my feet take up more of your vision. I hear you take a tentative sniff, your eyes glazing over.

Cleaning.

“Cl—cleeaning.” You slur as a bit of drool slides from your mouth. I give a little snicker as I witness you lick your lips. Your head begins to sway along with my hypnotic sweaty feet. Mirroring it’s motion. The smell at this point was incredibly overpowering, burning away your feeble inhibitions. My feet are fucking your mind, my toes pushing to the back of your skull. Reshaping your soft brain like playdoh. Back and forth. Back and forth…

“See, I’m not so much looking for a ‘boyfriend’. Too much maintenance. But I’m sure we can find a use for you. Cleaning clothes perhaps? Maybe bathroom cleaning? No. Cleaning…feet.” I look down and validate you with a smirk.

Cleaning. Feet.

“Foot cleaning. Yes, yes I think that’s your place in life. A mindless foot cleaner. Cleaning my rank feet. You’re very skilled at it.” I assert, placing my hand on your head and guiding you closer. “It’s okay. Some of us are meant to improve the world, some of us are meant to be productive members of society. And some of us, some of us are meant to lick the space between men’s toes.”

“I…no. Please.” You plead as your face enters my feet’s gravitational pull. The musk flowing up your nose and swimming around your emptied, foot fucked mind. They smelled just as you suspected they would, of feet. Your attention is captivated by a bead of sweat on my sole. It didn’t belong there, there on my perfect feet. You feel an impulse growing. A need. You needed to…needed to…

“Clean.” I answer for you. Making everything suddenly fall into place. It just made sense. “Clean my stinky feet.”

You shudder, any hint of resistance fading in an instant. Your mouth obediently opens and your tongue glides down the length of my sole, picking up all the sweat and grime that gathered from our long walk. The taste is sour and foul but for some shameful reason, that stirs your cock. You didn’t want this, but not wanting it made you so unbelievably hard. My feet had successfully hypnotised your mind, conditioning you to kneel at the mere sight of them. Seeing my sole was the only trigger needed for your mouth to water, for your thoughts to dissipate. For you to become no more than a rag to wipe my feet clean.

“Always glad to see someone enjoy their job so immensely.” I bend forward and pin a little badge to your shirt. The two words printed on it in basic typeface describe your entire existence ‘Foot Cleaner’. Now no one, including you would be confused about your role in life.

“Cweeann siiir.” You moan with a mouth full of my flavourful foot cheese.

I laugh above you, flexing my arms as you perform your job. “Good boy. Good foot cleaner. Lick every inch until they’re glistening with your saliva. Aren’t you happy I helped you find the height of your aspirations at the bottom of my feet. Dumb idiot.”

“Yusss, thank you sir.” You wanted to be a good obedient boy for master.

“Shut up and work.” I shove my feet into you, rubbing them across your face. “I expect my feet to be spotless slave. You will be here every evening from now on to fulfil your duty. And then you will pay me for the privilege like the pathetic foot slut that you are.”

Do I make myself clear?

[fangsandfeels]

Bioware writing team has a comfy, sheltered life and it shows

I'm sorry, but how come that the only people Inquisitor sent to look for Solas were Varric and Harding? How come that the only people recruited in 10 years of pursuing Solas were Neve and Rook? Do the writers understand that this is NOT how a serious effort looks like?

What about Leliana? Divine or not, she is still Sister Nightingale with an immense spywork. You'd think she won't mobilize everything she has to track Solas and his followers?

What about Josephine? What, she decided "nah, I'm done" and didn't use any of her diplomatic talents and connections to let the Inquisitor's agents have access, permissions or information they need?

What about Dorian? As a political figure, you'd think he will be the first Minrathous contact for the Inquisitor allies, the one arranging things and providing insights?

What about Cassandra and her Seekers? Isn't she interested in stopping another world-ending threat?

What about Sera and her sabotaging potential? If she organized the group of people for performing vigilante acts, people who are her eyes and ears, how come nobody from her group is helping with the effort?

I get it why Varric takes part in it - he knew Solas, the Inquisitor trusts him and his judgement, but for the game to imply that all the responsibility was lumped on Varric's shoulders is fucking disgraceful. I get it writers, Varric is popular character, and you would use him as bait to your heart's content, but the context you've created implies that Varric might have been the only one to take the threat seriously, while the Inquisitor and the rest were doing God knows what.

Varric should have been handing the Rook information on all the contacts they can recruit, all the useful agents, all the people to work with, not tell them to ask Neve because she might know someone because detective (Neve is a good character, but the fact that people who were supposed to spend 10 years chasing Solas look up to her for finding them contacts is appalling).

"Oh, but all these people were in the previous parts and we don't want to mention previous parts because muh new players" - well, you shot yourselves in the foot. Maybe, just maybe, you should have AT LEAST cared more about the choices made in DAI.

Congrats.

[melathan]

han jisung x camgirl! reader drabble

word count — 1.9k

warnings — NSFW, 18+. needy! jisung, soft dom! reader. mentioned pornography, masturbation + mutual masturbation, praise, toy usage, use of nicknames (babygirl, good boy), light teasing

editor note — first work posted! hope you guys enjoy^^

It’s hard being a talented and hardworking idol year-round, especially when there’s little time to blow off steam. Of course, perhaps his management allowed his group to go out a couple of nights of the year, and let the idols live freely. But for Han Jisung, meeting new people… wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

Well, obviously, he wanted to meet new people. He tried to find friends outside of Stray Kids, he tried to find acquaintances he can fuck around with–

He wanted somebody’s sexual attention.

Sure, rumors went around that his group sometimes mingled sexually. Sure, it may be true. But Jisung wanted to find somebody who would fulfill his erotic fantasies, his strange kinks, his insatiable libido. Especially when out of the 365 days, only a select few would be free to let him do so.

But, of course, his one problem: He can’t socialize with strangers. Talking to his fans was one thing– he just had to say hello, hear them gush about him, say thank you, and wave goodbye. Simple.

Meeting strangers at bars and clubs… what do you mean he had to flirt with somebody who wasn’t a friend?? Twenty-one questions? What’s that? More like twenty-one regrets for following his friends to the loud, crowded club.

Once again, he was curled up in his room as the other members separated and went out on their off night. Once again, he was berating himself for not being sociable. 

…Once again, he was humping that same damned pillow.

A breathy curse left his lips, his fingers curling into the sheets as he bucked his hips again. His trusty pillow never failed to satisfy him– but as he continued a pit grew in his stomach. He wanted more. He didn’t just want to be satisfied; he wanted to be pleasured, to be thrown over the edge, to be braindead…

Jisung let out a whine, collapsing on his pillow. A frustrated huff left his lips as he pulled out his phone, opening the PornHub link once again… no, he didn’t feel proud about this. He felt like a sleazy creep who got off watching girls and guys fuck for the camera.

(Sure, he didn’t feel proud, but he certainly didn’t feel guilty.)

Ah. The normal stepcest content. He grumbled, feeling his cock twitch against the pillow. He just found roleplaying erotic and exciting. Realistically, you can film anything, slap down the word ‘roleplay’ and you wouldn’t be questioned in the pornography realm. But to say the least, it worked, so he watched it.

He tapped on the video, setting his head back on the other pillow and situating himself, gripping the base of his cock. It was dark in his room, so the blinding light and loud music of the upcoming ad made him flinch away, squinting his eyes.

Scowling, he tapped furiously on the loading skip button. Another one of those porn Facetime sites. 

Do they even work? Could you just sign up, get on call, and masturbate with a hot girl?

He paused, staring at the seizure-inducing ad.

…

It wouldn’t hurt to try, honestly.

His anxiety spiked, but he forced it down. No, he wasn’t going to have small talk. No, he didn’t have to show his face… just his cock. And no, the other girl wouldn’t skip him if he stuttered immensely.

Right?

He sat up in his bed, crossing his legs as he tapped on the ad itself. The normal button to download an app was shown– if he was normal, he would’ve clicked off. 

But he didn’t feel like jerking off onto his pillow to some video posted five years ago. His friends were gone and the dorm was empty– he might as well take the chance.

✶ ✶ ✶

“–Babygirl, right? You should totally show me your–”

Skipped.

You sighed, throwing your head back. Another horny teenager. Couldn’t you get somebody somewhat normal?

It was your off day of streaming, simply anonymous on this mutual masturbation app. You counted three teenagers, four people who recognized you, and a troll (although you could admit the guy made you laugh).

The blank screen was loading, finding somebody else for you. Your wand laid between your legs, and you cursed. 

Maybe I should give it up–

The screen loaded and you perked up… only to see a ceiling fan. You frowned.

“Hello?”

A small noise came from the other side of the call and the camera shifted. “Uh… hi.”

Great, another teenager?

“If you’re under twenty I am clicking off–”

“Wait!” The camera jolted and a face came into view, his eyes wide with panic.

You sucked in a breath. He was gorgeous.

Soon realizing what he did he yelped and dropped the phone, showing his fan again. “Ah, fuck-!” “What?” You demanded. “No no, show me your face pretty boy.”

He choked. “Pretty boy-?”

“Yes? Or are you camera shy?” You sat back, almost grinning in amusement. While he was too scared to even show his forehead, you had your camera positioned so he could see everything. Crossing your legs, you leaned back even more, relaxed.

The guy whined. Whined. “I, uh… wouldn’t you rather see my d-dick?” “Oh, so you’re direct,” You purred, resting your chin on the back of your hand. “Alright. Do what makes you comfortable.”

There’s a pause on his end, and he lifts his phone to reposition it. The ending scene… oh.

His cock was as pretty as his face. Long, curled, resting on his doughy tummy. The pink mushroom tip glistened in his blue LED room lights, a show of his excitement. His small hand gripped the chubby base, his hand twitching.

“Baby,” You exhaled. “Are you a pornstar?”

The guy choked, his grip tightening. “I– huh? N-no, I’m not!”

You scoffed. “You should be. You’re immaculate.”

“Oh…” Another whine. “Really?”

“Yes! Oh, baby, can you stroke it?” You grab your wand, turning on the lowest setting. The hum of the toy was picked up by the guy, as heard by his bated breath. 

“Ok…”

You made sure not to blink as he slowly moved his hand up and down, the veins bulging at the movements. He let out another shuddered breath, his thighs tensing.

“I’ve never… touched myself in front of somebody–” He murmured, his last word hitching. “L-let alone a stranger…”

“So you’re new… alright.” You nodded, grazing your wand on your cunt. You let out a content sigh, brushing it on the lips.

He gulped– it was obvious that his attention was on you, not on his cock. To tease him, you pressed it right on your clit, letting out a soft moan. You could’ve sworn you saw a drop of precum roll down his shaft.

“I’m your first, then,” You grin, the idea making you strangely pleased. “That’s adorable.”

He squeaked. “Really?”

You nodded, increasing the level on the wand. As you tensed up and moaned, he tensed and stuttered his hand on his cock.

“Baby,” You said after a second. “I feel like you're holding back. Relax~”

“Relax,” He huffed, sitting up. “Ok– ok. Um…”

You saw the tension leave his thighs and arms, his body sinking further into the mattress. Grinning, you spread your cunt out further, the slick making it glisten in the low light. 

He let out a low groan. “Are you… going to cum?”

“Not yet, baby. But soon.” I nod, spreading my legs further as I increase the intensity. Just watching him– a nervous, adorable stranger– touch himself, made me strangely sensitive.

New turn-on, I guess.

You decide to turn it up yet another level, arching your back and letting out a sultry whine. “Oh~”

“Fuck…” You heard him curse. “Do– do it again. Do that again.”

You wanted to tease him– but with how your lower stomach was tightening, you would only frustrate yourself. Instead, you laid back, tapping your toy on your clit and making yourself twitch and moan.

You heard the sheets rustle on his end as well, and his camera jerked. His phone fell but showed you something that almost made you cum on the spot.

You were able to see his face again, his eyes and nose scrunched up, framed by curly locks of silky brown hair. He was hunched over but it didn’t hide his small waist; it accentuated the curve from his chest to his hip. His honey-toned thighs twitched and shook as he gripped his cock, slick noises echoing in both of your rooms as he jerked off.

“You’re into that?” You moan out; you couldn’t help yourself. “Into my noises? My moans? What if I beg for you, huh?”

He let out a breathless wail, throwing his head back. “Oh god, please–”

He’s the beggar, shit.

“Praise?” You murmured, your soft tone barely heard over his wet cock and your buzzing toy. “Are you a good boy?”

His eyes widened comically, immediately flitting over to you. His movements momentarily stuttered, the pretty tip almost a deep purple.

Gotcha.

“Good boy…” You moaned out, your toy now on the highest setting as you rubbed it frantically on your clit. “You’re such a good boy, such a good boy…”

“Yes-!” He whimpered, his hand almost sliding off his cock with the sheer amount of precum. “Oh fuck, I am~!”

You gripped the toy with both hands, your legs closing over it. “You’re gonna cum? Can you cum for me baby? Cum for me, babygirl–”

The nickname set him off immediately. He let out a loud wail, his hands jerking back as he came. Thick ropes of seed spurted out of the swollen tip, collecting on his tightened stomach. He gripped the sheets under him, his cock twitching as he screwed his eyes shut. “Oh…!”

You came yourself a few seconds after, slick gathering around your hole and dripping into your sheets. You let out a small, humored moan, smiling. “Fuck, baby…”

Coming down from his high, he realized how his phone was situated, allowing you to see his face. But he couldn’t bring himself to fix it, not when he was watching you scoop your cum and slick and lick it off your fingers… his softening cock twitched.

God, he was getting hard again. 

You giggled, giving him a lazy grin as you noticed his slack expression. “You like that? Watching me eat my own cum?”

He let out a strangled gasp. “Fuck, I…”

“I like you,” You declared, reaching for the towel and shoving it under you. “You’re willing to stick around?”

Are you kidding? He almost wanted to yell. This was probably the best orgasm he’s had in his life. Letting you skip was almost like letting somebody tease him with dessert and then handing it to somebody completely different. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I– yes,” He choked out, picking up his phone. “What’s your username?”

Slightly taken aback by his sudden directness, you tilted your head. “Oh? Baby, you’re greedy.”

He clenched his jaw. “I want to see you again.”

Maybe he can call you tomorrow. Maybe the following weeks. Maybe you can roleplay with him, satiate his kinks, satisfy his drive. Maybe he can meet you in person and actually fuck you—

Giggling, you buried yourself further into your pillows. “Hm… tempting. Well, baby, you are cute. It would be stupid for me to give you up.”

You spread your legs again, picking up your toy. “But I’ll give it to you later, m'kay? I’m not quite ready to let you sign off just yet…”

08.19.2024

[mollyrolls]

youre on my watchlist ree

WHITE DENIM OVERALLS — a suna rintarou x reader SMAU

m.list

tags, cws grief & loss, found family, angst, possibly ooc, language

synopsis : you stopped believing in love the day your dad passed—leaving you to pay the debt left off from building his dream bakery. when your long term boyfriend breaks off a three year long relationship via text, you wonder if you have any more life left to live. heaven sends you a surprise ◡̈

© ZUMICHO 2024 all rights reserved. do not repost, edit, or translate my works on any platform.

────────────────────────

profiles

prologue: tiny suburban bakery

001: iced lemon loaves / self deprecating humor

002: venn diagram

003: monsters under the bed

004: softness vs. survival

005: not waiting for you anymore

006: building the same house

007: blue door deja vu

epilogue: somewhere between

status : completed 🍞

extras ness’ extras ness’ recs + overview

────────────────────────

[washeduphazbin]

Electrifying

Vox x Fem!Reader

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘���⊱⋅•⋅

=_MINORS DNI_=

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Request: Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Vox x feedreader, where he’s in his room with all those TVs, doing his broadcast or something? And the reader comes in and gives him a BJ (smut pls) I changed some things. I hope it's okay. Enjoy you, sinners. ;)

When you were alive, you weren't particularly religious; that's not to say you didn't believe in the concept of heaven or hell, just that you didn't care where you ended up. Your family was religious and cared more about scaring the word of the lord into you than your personal beliefs. In your head, you assumed that it was your anti-religious beliefs that would earn you a one-way ticket to hell. You didn't expect the reason to actually be the fact that you hacked yourself into a secret government database and ended up in prison, only to die in a prison riot that you played a part in. You become a number one target when you can hack the guard's security cameras.

Long story short, you died and woke up in hell. Then you hacked your way into working for one of the most powerful Overlords in hell, specifically by glitching out every one of his broadcasts until he noticed you.

Vox was going to kill you when he found out you were the one fucking up his tech, but you managed to convince him that combining your skills would serve him much better than slaughtering you and wasting your talent. He put your skills to good use; Vox could finally take breaks from constantly patrolling the cameras around Pentagram City and focus much more on improving his already well-renowned tech. It took a lot of sucking up and managing to break into some of whatever radio shops that were left in the city and breaking all the old-timey tech that things finally shifted between your relationship with the Overlord. Destroying those radios caused you to immediately jump on the Radio Demon's shit list, which as a normal Sinner was not ideal.

However, it jumped you up immensely on Vox's Employee of the Month board. In fact, you were almost sure you were his favorite employee ever.

He finally trusted you enough to show you the central hub where he ran his broadcasts, and you moved from ordinary everyday Sinner under contract to Vox's right-hand woman...who was...still under contract...semantics.

From that moment on, you were constantly by his side throughout every single one of his broadcasts. While Velvette might be the backbone of the Vees, you were Vox's hype woman, keeping him out of trouble while encouraging his most chaotic ideas. That's how the two of you remained for a consistent seven years until the Radio Demon hijacked Vox's broadcasts, showing all of Hell he's made his triumphant return.

"I can't fucking believe this, I've spent years building my empire, YEARS, and he thinks he can just take it from me like that? Does he even know who I am?" You watched your boss prepare for his late-night broadcast session, flipping switches and plugging wires into his head while ranting about that deer-faced fuck

"He's not worth it, Sir," You speak softly and notice his shoulders relax at your tender tone. "You've been running Pentagram City for years. At this point, your viewers aren't just going to turn you away for a guy who sounds like he swallowed a microphone instead of a dick." Vox snorted with delighted laughter as he sat down in his studio chair. His claws drumming on his metal table pinging around the studio, you stepped closer and noticed he was still trailing Aslastor's every movement on camera. "May I speak freely?"

He thought briefly before turning his screen to face you, "Well, spit it out then."

"Your 'hatred' for Alastor is boarding on obsessive; it's creepy and- don't give me that look." You huffed, crossing your arms, "You permitted me. Plus, you haven't even heard my suggestion yet."

"And why exactly would I let you suggest anything after your attitude?"

"It'll help you relax," your hands spread across his shoulder pads down his chest, and you could hear his processors running a little louder in embarrassment. "I have lived to serve you since the day you hired me. Let me help you." You purred softly next to his screen, nuzzling against the cool metal; you saw how his claws dug into the table before him, creating claw marks.

"I suppose if you're offering." He leaned back in his chair, wires still connected to the back of his screen; you hummed, moving in front of him. Subtly, very subtly, you pressed the start broadcast button with your fingers. He watched with spiraling eyes as you kissed the side of his screen before kneeling between his legs. You saw sparks of embarrassment erupt from his screen, "wait, what relaxation are we talking about here- fuck!" He cursed, voice glitching in a way he usually used to command attention from his viewers and Val. Your hands gently trailed over his belt buckle as you leaned against his thigh,

"Not yet," You teased softly, "Maybe if you're good." You whisper with a wink, kissing his inner thigh, "Don't you wanna relax?"

"Yes." He commanded you hurriedly before composing himself, "Be a good girl for me, baby. Help me relax."

"Yes, sir." You hummed, unbuckling his belt, and with a click of his metal clasp, his belt was pulled from his pants. You felt cold claws trace your cheek as you looked back up at him through your extended lashes. His screen was glowing a mesmerizing purple hue; he looked briefly awkward,

"Vox, say my name."

"Yes, Vox." You licked your lip, rubbing your thighs together; your fingers pulled and tugged at his pants in a way of asking permission. He gave a single head nod as his slacks were pulled down to his ankles. You heard him suck in through his teeth as you landed forward towards his boxers, admiring the significant hardness in his pants. "Look at you; you're so big already..." You felt drool pooling in your mouth, and he made another strangled electronic sound. "I can't wait to feel you in my mouth." He seemed to gather some confidence back as he gripped your hair, causing you to whine,

"If you're so eager. Then suck." His eyes flashed a plethora of pretty colors, and you felt your willpower drop, hypnosis, your heart skipped a beat as your underwear flooded with your slick. He grinned wickedly as your mouth opened wide, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you took him out of his underwear. His dick was unlike anything you've ever seen. It was long and curved, sticking straight into the air, showing his eagerness for your mouth; blue and red wire-like veins seemed to pulse with need. You leaned forward, nipping gently at his now bare thighs as he hissed in through his teeth before swallowing his length in your mouth. Vox groaned, a static sound; as soon as your hot mouth swallowed him, sparks from the monitors singed your skin. You smiled, knowing that his sounds and your actions were being broadcast for all of hell to see and hear, and he was none the wiser.

You felt his claws dig into your hair, pulling you forward, forcing you to take him deeper down your throat. You groaned around him and began to suck as deep as you could take him down your throat. "Fuck baby, fuck." He hissed as you looked up at him through half-lidded lashes, opening your mouth wider and running your tongue on the wire veins underneath his dick. He shuddered and choked back a moan as you pulled back. You began to kitten lick along the sensitive tip, swallowing the blue precum that was forming at the slit. He shuddered, the screen glitching a few times as it flashed different frames and colors. "Don't stop now; you're just getting better." He grinned crookedly, petting your hair like a pet; you gave him a look. He snickered, urging you forward back onto his dick,

"I'm going to make you cum so hard, your blue screen." You purred, licking your lips, gathering spit in your mouth before taking him as deep as your throat would allow. He was heavy in your mouth and throat, filling it even though he wasn't thick. His tip hit the back of your throat as you choked around him. He moaned heatedly, eyes squeezing shut as he jolted as you suctioned your lips around him. He was close, and you could tell his hips began to twitch as he attempted to fuck your throat. You took that as a sign to place your hand on his balls, squeezing them and caressing them through your hands; you were rewarded with an even louder moan and a shout of your name. "That's it, baby, I'm so close, harder. fuck you're such a good girl." That seemed to do it as you moaned around his cock, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him as he shot his load down your throat, which you swallowed eagerly.

He tasted like you swallowed a packet of blue raspberry pop rocks.

You pulled off of him, licking your lips, and noticed his entire body was slack, face completely blue, sparks shooting out the back of his head. You giggled, turning to the screens and seeing yourself on camera; you hummed, hiking up your skirt and giving a little bow to the audience before ending the broadcast. You and Vox's phones were blaring with messages nonstop; you picked up Vox's while he was rebooting. You opened it quickly, remembering his passcode from when he told you to monitor Val's activities with the tracker he placed on the Moth. There were notifications from social media and Vox tech itself, which you promptly swiped away so Vox couldn't see them immediately when he rebooted. About a hundred texts from Velvette and Valentino in the Vees shared group chat.

Velvette was screaming about all the social media images she'd have to wipe to protect Vox's image and how much of an idiot he was for not double-checking that he wasn't on air. While Val was giving a rating while sending a play-by-play and ranking your technique, begging Vox to let him use you in his next shoot. You giggled, leaning down to snap a picture of you with a still rebooting Vox and sending it to the other Vees before throwing the phone away. If things go well, he'll fuck you on air next; worst case scenario, you'll double die, known as one of the best dick suckers in hell, probably only second to Angeldust.

[girlgenius1111]

when i break, it’s in a million pieces

alexia x putellas!reader

the pressure on r is intense, from her sister more than anyone. an injury pushes her to her breaking point. desperate not to let her sister down, r struggles under the weight of her injury.

-----

Something that was always said about your sister was that she pushed everyone around her to be better. This was something that you knew to be true on a whole other level. The pressure of being Alexia Putellas' sister was immense; not just from the media, and the coaches, and the team, but from your sister herself. She expected a lot from you, she always had.

Alexia knew better than anyone what it took to be a great footballer, and when you expressed to her that you wanted it too, she promised herself that she would help you get there. The raw talent was there, and with your sister by your side, it seemed to the world that you would be unstoppable.

It was your first real season with Barça, having spent the last 2 seasons on loan at Sevilla. It had been good for you, helped develop your skills and allow you to be independent. Now, at 20, you were back in Barcelona, playing with the first team, and with your sister, for the first time.

Your sister always toed the line between pushing you just hard enough, and pushing you too hard. Your mother often had to step in, and get Alexia to back off, just a bit. Not that you were on the team with her though, where she was the captain, training with her everyday, you couldn't really go to your mother for help when Alexia pushed you too hard. You just... took it.

It was a lot, several stressful months at the beginning of the season where you tried to carve out your place in the team. It felt like Alexia was breathing down your neck, always asking for more. It was an environment that you had thrived in, before. And then you'd gone on loan, and you'd learned to push yourself.

Alexia's pushing, compounded with your pushing was, if you were honest, too much for you. You could never tell your sister, though, not when she was just trying to get you to be the best version of yourself.

It didn't help that the media had wild expectations for you; they were expecting you to perform how Alexia had when she was 28, and you were only 20. Every mistake, every missed shot had media outlets questioning if you would ever be as good as your older sister. You knew Alexia didn't pay attention to the things said about her online, and you tried to do the same. You weren't as successful.

Things only got worse when Alexia hurt her knee. Your heart ached for her, knowing exactly the toll not being able to play took on your sister. Still, you were suffocating in her absence from the pitch.

You needed to be better, stronger, faster, play harder, pass more precisely, shoot right on target every time. You needed to be passionate, but not hot headed. Confident, but not cocky. You felt like you were being pulled in a thousand different directions; every move you made seemed to be the wrong choice. Your solution? Work harder. Train extra. Push yourself to the absolute brink.

Everyone seemed to realize that you were pushing yourself too hard. Everyone, that is, except your sister. She only saw the results, how well you were playing. It was like she was blind to how exhausted you looked. Your teammates tried bringing it up with you, and with Alexia, but you both insisted that there was no problem. Alexia, because she genuinely didn't think there was one. And you, because you would rather drop dead than disappoint your sister.

Somewhere deep inside, you had convinced yourself that if you weren't perfect, completely and entirely perfect, Alexia wouldn't love you the same. Your sister's praise and approval was something you'd always sought; only recently did it reach the point that you were willing to do anything to make her proud of you; fuck your body and it's limits- Alexia was counting on you, expecting things of you, and you were going to do them. No matter what it took.

-----

It made sense, then, that your body would reach it's breaking point. The load on you was immense; playing almost every minute of every game. You were overworked, but you wouldn't admit it. You'd gone back out for the second half of the game against Eintracht Frankfurt, dismissing Jona [and Irene, and Patri, and Marta]'s questions about coming off to rest. You had more to give, you assured them. And give it your all, you would.

You were on the left side of the pitch, attempting to dribble past one of the opposing midfielders. The tackle wasn't really very clean; she came sliding in towards your ankles after the ball was already sailing towards Mario. Still, if you weren't so exhausted and overworked, you would have seen her coming, and moved out of the way. Or, at least, you would have managed to move just enough that the tackle wasn't catastrophic.

Instead, she caught you just right, crashing into you so hard that your ankle rolled in a way it wasn't supposed to. You felt the crack as well as heard it, the excruciating pain that followed forcing you to the ground.

Your head was left completely untouched, and the ref let play continue, apparently feeling that the tackle didn't deserve a yellow. You felt like you could feel every nerve ending in your ankle being lit on fire, at the same time as a deep ache permeated out from the bones in your lower leg. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, truly. You were on your stomach, face hidden away in the crook of your elbow, as you raised your other hand in the air, gesturing wildly for help.

Your heart was racing, ankle throbbing, as you felt everything come crashing down around you. This couldn't be happening. How could this be happening?

"Y/n?" Ingrid asked quietly, resting a hand on your back. Mario had kicked the ball out, and the medics were sprinting across the pitch towards you. Ingrid was closest, and while the rest of the team stood frozen, praying to anyone they could think of that this wasn't as bad as it seemed, the Norwegian crouched down by you, able to hear the small, pained whimpers escaping your lips.

"Ingrid, help," you choked out, reaching blindly for her. She grabbed your hand, holding tight.

"The medics are almost here, just hang on."

-----

Up in the stands, Alexia sat, watching on in absolute horror, at the way your body laid on the pitch. She'd been much too far away to hear the crack, but she knew what a broken ankle looked like. Your reaction only confirmed it. She was gripping the arms of her seat like her life depended on it, barely able to tear her eyes off you when Mapi called her name for the third time.

"Go, Ale. Get down there. She'll need you." Mapi nudged, looking to Jana when Alexia made no move. Mapi was still on crutches, unable to grab Alexia and go like she needed to. Jana got the message, standing and grabbing Alexia's hand in hers.

"Alexia," she called, waiting until her captain's eyes looked up at her. "Come on. She needs you." With another tug on the blonde's hand, Jana got Alexia to stand, before she pulled her out of the row of seats, and towards the stairs.

-----

The medics had maneuvered you onto your back, before they asked you what hurt. They already knew, even as the question left their mouths.

"What hurts?"

"Ankle. It's bad, it's really bad," you cried, before yanking your jersey up to cover your face. It was bad enough that this was happening, and the entire stadium, everyone watching being able to see you cry only making it worse.

You stayed in your little hiding place, shirt covering your face, until the crowd of medics around you, combined with the medical cart that had been driven onto the field, provided enough of a shelter. When you removed your kit from your face, you were met with the sight of most of the team standing over you, pained expressions across their faces. You were handed the dreaded green whistle, which you tried to push away. The medic insisted, and Irene leaned over you, as if daring you to reject it again.

You accepted it, then, taking deep inhales of the medication. Your brain felt hazy, suddenly, and it didn't really register when they put the puffy orange cast over your leg.

The team hovered, silent support, as you were moved onto a stretcher, and then the cart. You were left with pats on the shoulder and kisses on the forehead before the cart began moving, driving off the pitch. The crowd clapped as you went, and all you could think was that you had no idea how long it would be before you could get back on the pitch.

-----

"Where is she?" Alexia questioned, grabbing the arm of the physio attempting to pass by her. She'd been waiting for you by the medical rooms for a few minutes, only growing more nervous as time passed.

"Ambulance. They're taking her right to the hospital." The physio replied, looking sympathetically at the blonde.

Alexia swore, taking off down the hall and towards the doors. Thank god she was cleared to run again. The blonde just barely caught the ambulance before the back was slamming shut, hopping up and in. She slid in right next to the stretcher, instantly leaning over you.

"I'm here, pequeña." She murmured, taking in the absolutely devastated expression on your face.

"It broke, I heard it break." You whispered. Alexia felt like her heart was being squeezed at the sound of your shaky voice.

"It's all going to be okay, I promise."

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, Ale." You barely got the words out, a loud sobbing ripping it's way out of you.

Your sister looked confused, reaching a hand down to cradle your cheek. "You don't have anything you need to be sorry for, hermanita. Nothing."

The conversation was only agitating you, and the paramedic gave your sister a look, one telling her to change the topic.

"Does it hurt?" She asked, glancing down at your heavily wrapped ankle.

You bit your lip. "No."

Just then, the vehicle hit a bump, jostling the stretcher slightly. Your ankle was jolted, and you let out a high pitched squeak, gripping on tight to the sides of the stretcher.

"Sure, it doesn't hurt." Alexia sighed. "We're almost at the hospital, okay? They'll fix you right up."

Alexia was speaking to you like she had when you were much younger; when the injury to be fixed was a scraped knee, not a broken bone. It was comforting, though, a glimpse of soft and sweet Alexia that you hadn't really seen much of recently.

"Can you call mom?" You asked quietly. Your sister swallowed back tears of her own at how young you seemed suddenly. You were only 20, and though normally you acted much more mature than that, she was reminded of your age by the look of complete fear in your eyes.

Your mother, however, was out of the country on a girls trip with her friends She had been texting Alexia pretty much nonstop since the injury, and Alexia had only managed to reply to one of the texts. She told your sister, though, that she didn't have good enough cell reception to call. Alexia was going to have to be enough for you.

"Her internet isn't good enough to call, remember? I'm right here with you, though. I'm not going anywhere." Alexia vowed, peeling your hand of the side of the stretcher, and wrapping her hand around it.

Your sister didn't miss the unsure glint in your eyes, and although your hand tightened around hers, she could tell that you were holding back from her, at least a little bit. The trouble was, she didn't understand why. You used to go to Alexia with all your problems; she was one of the only people you would let see you cry. Now, though, you chewed aggressively on your bottom lip, blinking away your tears.

Alexia wondered when you'd stopped trusting her the way you used to, and why.

-----

Thank god that Barça had connections at the hospital; you were in and out of x-ray fast, seen by the doctor, put on crutches within the hour. Your foot was encased in a moon boot, all the way up your shin, and you were... miserable. There was a permanent scowl set on your face, and you were answering your sister's questions with simple yes's and no's, refusing to make eye contact.

Alexia's chest ached seeing you in this much pain. She felt like she used to feel when you were little, and you'd cry; like she'd do anything, anything at all, to make you smile again.

Your other sister arrived in a flurry of chaos, and Alexia watched on as you practically melted into the hug Alba offered. She didn't understand; you went to Alba when you were in trouble, or if you wanted to goof around. You went to Alexia if you were upset. That was how it had always been, but suddenly, you couldn't look her in the eye.

"Olga went to go get you some stuff from your apartment. You can stay with Ale until you're better, alright?" Alba said.

Alexia didn't know when Alba had contacted her girlfriend, or how the decision for you to stay with her had been reached, but she was glad for it. You shouldn't be on your own, physically, and if your current attitude was any indication, also mentally.

"Did the doctor say how long you'd be out?"

You grew visibly pale at the question. "At least 4 months."

Alba opened her mouth, clearly about to comment on how that was... a long time for a broken ankle. Alexia elbowed her in the side, sending her a look to not bring it up. Alba promptly shut her mouth, figuring Alexia would explain later anyway.

What she didn't know was that you'd broken both your fibula and your tibia. The bones would take time to heal, time to rehab, as well as the partially torn muscles in your ankle. You'd asked about surgery, but the process wouldn't be sped up at all if you were operated on. You had no choice, but to wait it out. 4 months away from the pitch. 4 months.

"Hey, y/n?" Alexia said, waving a hand in front of your face.

"What?" You asked.

"I said your name like 5 times." Alexia told you, taking in the bewildered expression on your face. You'd completely tuned out, lost in your thoughts.

"Oh."

"Ready to go?" Alexia asked finally, when you didn't offer an explanation.

"Yeah."

You stood, slightly shaky on the crutches from the pain medicine, and began to make your way to the doors of the hospital. Your sisters followed close behind you. They didn't know it, but anyone looking at the two of them would have instantly known they were sisters; sporting matching worried frowns as they watching you move down the hall. Neither of them was really sure what to say to you, to make you feel better, and they hated standing by and watching you be upset. Nothing seemed to be working though, and you offered them nothing as you made it to your sister's car, sliding into the backseat without a word. The car ride back to Alexia's was completely silent, both of your sister's were lost in their thoughts, as you were.

-----

Alexia lay awake in her bed, unable to shake the feeling that she needed to check on you. Staring at the ceiling, her mind was racing, through every interaction she'd had with you recently. She couldn't figure out when you'd started acting so... strange. In retrospect, it had definitely gotten worse recently, and she hadn't noticed. The blonde had been busy, dealing with her knee and her contract renewal. Now that she'd taken the time to really look at you, for the first time in weeks, she saw someone who was hurting. All she wanted was to fix it.

"Go check on her, Ale." Olga spoke up from next to her girlfriend. "I can hear you thinking from here, just go so you can see she's fine, come back, and go to sleep.

Alexia considered for a minute, before leaning over to kiss her girlfriends cheek, and sliding out of bed. She was wearing socks, and her footsteps were quiet as she padded down the hall and to the door of the guest bedroom. She was just going to peek in, but when she rested her hand on the knob, she heard quiet snuffling whimpers coming from behind the closed door.

Twisting the knob and stepping into the room, the sounds cut off with a sharp breath. Alexia didn't say anything, not yet. Instead she walked closer to the bed, towards where you were facing away from the doorway, pretending to be asleep in the middle of the bed. Your body was trembling under the covers, so much so that she could see it even in the dark. She took a careful seat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to rest a hand on your arm. As soon as she did so, you broke, curling up into yourself as a heart wrenching sob fought it's way out of you.

Before your sister could say a word, you were twisting to face her and gasping out an apology. "Sorry, Ale, I'm sorry."

Alexia didn't know why you kept apologizing to her, but she desperately wanted you to stop. "Shh, just let it out. It's all okay, nena."

"It's not okay, Alexia, it's not. I can't play. I can't play, not for months. I can't do it, I don't want to do it." Nothing you were saying was really making any sense to your sister, but she was sure she wasn't getting any more out of you while you were still so worked up.

"Just come here, nena," she murmured, opening her arms up for you. For a second, you looked so unsure, so apprehensive, and Alexia felt like crying herself. Then, something inside of you must have given up, and you were launching yourself, as best you could, across the bed and into your sister's arms. Alexia held you close, humming a soft tune as she held you tight against her, like she used to do when you were very small.

For once, you didn't worry about disappointing her, or seeming weak in front of her. You let yourself fall apart completely, your sister's arms wrapped around you feeling like the only thing stopping you from breaking into a million pieces.

"You are strong, pequeña, so strong. You can do this, I know you can. My strong hermanita. You can do anything. I bet you'll be back on the pitch before 4 months is up." Alexia's words only seemed to make you cry harder, so she stopped talking, focusing on rocking minutely back and forth.

What if you weren't strong? You knew you weren't as strong as your sister. What if you were weak? What if you couldn't do it? Alexia said you should be able to come back before 4 months, but what if you didn't? You'd be disappointing everyone, Alexia most of all. The fear of that, of letting her down, felt like it was squeezing all the air out of your lungs, until all you could do was cling to your sister, and wait for it to pass.

It wouldn't pass. The thoughts wouldn't stop ricocheting around your head, your deepest fears and anxieties. Everything you'd been pushing down for weeks was bubbling to the surface until you were a trembling mess in your sister's arms.

"You have to calm down, nena, breathe." Alexia tried to remind you. You could only shake your head frantically, and your sister sighed, her worry increasing. "Okay, let's go call Alba."

Without another word, she held tight to you and stood up off the bed, walking towards her room. You were past caring, at this point, where you had your breakdown. Calling Alba might be a good distraction, you thought. So, you wrapped your arms around your sister's neck, trying to steady yourself.

-----

Olga had just been considering getting up, and going to check on the pair of you, when she heard her girlfriend's steps returning down the hall. They were slower than normal, and her lips tugged into a smile, knowing exactly what was about to walk through the door.

Her smile fell when Alexia walked in with you in her arms, the miserable sounds you were making filling the silent room. She made eye contact with her girlfriend, feeling her heart sink at how helpless she looked.

Alexia placed you in the middle of the bed, pulling away just slightly so she grab her phone and call your other sister. She hit Alba's contact, absentmindedly rubbing your back as you cried into her. Olga scooted closer, resting her head on Alexia's shoulder, hoping to provide some comfort to her girlfriend, who looked completely distraught at the state you were in.

"Hello?" Alba answered, grumpy at being woken in the middle of the night.

"She's really upset, can you talk to her?" Alexia asked, forgoing a greeting and holding the phone to your ear. Alba sat straight up in bed, her soft voice a stark contrast to the tension and stress flooding her. She began talking, about her day, about her week, about the silly thing she'd seen at the dog park the other day.

Your sister's soothing voice, your other sister's calming patterns rubbed into your back, Olga's nails scratching lightly at your scalp, all probably combined as you began to calm down.

Alba's voice had vanished, and Alexia smiled despite herself, knowing the other girl had probably fallen asleep talking. When your sobs quieted to small whimpers, and your sharp gasps for air turned to the occasional hiccup, Alexia spoke again. You were half asleep, and you felt safe, so safe, so tired. You let Alexia's words wash over you, the final push before you shut your eyes, drifting off on top of her.

"I love you, so much. Always. I'll be with you the whole way, nena. I promise you."

Groggily, you wondered if she meant it. If she really would be with you through this, if she really would still love you when you inevitably failed. Because you were sure you weren't strong enough for this. Despite your certainty, you also knew that you would do everything you could to meet your sister's expectations. The doctors had said 4 months, you'd do it in 3. No matter what it took, no matter how hard it was. If you failed, you'd deal with that later.

-----

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day seventeen: sex pollen kink

>>> god i love me some yuuta he is such a beautiful angel and deserves this! this started out as face-fucking kink but turned into this for storyline purposes LMFAOOO

>>> starring: yuuta okkotsu x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: sex pollen theme, pining, jealousy, face-fucking, oral (f!receiving) creampie, swallowing, doggy, headlock! oops!! >>> wc: 4.5k >>> event masterlist

you two make a dynamic duo. this was evident after he joined the school, drawn to you inexplicably. you were bubbly, funny, beautiful, and immensely talented, and you were the first person to smile at him. you became fast friends, and if he wasn’t sent out with toge, he was sent out on missions with you—where he quickly learned that your technique is beautifully complimentary to his own. you confused him though. you were incredibly pretty—non-sorcerers and classmates from jujutsu tech and her sister school approached you all the time, and you always politely turned them down. all sweet smiles and your caring voice humming out, “oh, thank you—i’m flattered, really, just—focused on working!” 

you always were so kind, even if you had a good sense of sarcastic wit. yuuta got a taste of your spirited jokes and only grew more enamored with you, silently thanking the gods above for your gentle crushing of other men’s interests in you. but you never seemed too interested in him, hence why he was so confused when you glared at him and stomped away when he agreed to a date with maki zen’in during your third year. he didn’t realize that he was choosing something bigger at the time, deciding that if you weren’t into him he should try to move on—he should just focus on your friendship instead of all the boys throwing themselves at you and all the nights he spent wondering if you would give him a chance.

but things were never the same after that. you asked toge to take any mission you were sent on with yuuta, and you kept to yourself. panda was disappointed. he thought you would have fought for him, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself going after a man who didn’t want you back. you mostly stick to yourself, mingling with toge and some of your underclassmen when necessary. you run solo missions and spend your time in your room or training, all in an effort to avoid him entirely. you hated how weak the whole thing made you feel. you hated being jealous of maki, someone who had done nothing to you and had been a great friend; you hated being away from yuuta, but you knew it would be worse to stick around and pretend that you’re happy for him. 

he didn’t know he’d lose you completely. god knows he wouldn’t have tried this if he thought it meant you would stop sitting next to him in class and start sparring with toge during training instead. he missed you. you used to sneak into his dorm a few nights a week to watch movies and lay your head on his shoulder. you used to hint at your favorite boba until he got it for you on missions in the city. you used to use your curse copying technique to boost his own, paired with the increase in cursed energy output powering his; fights don’t feel like they used to, especially without your arrogant smile as you two dismantle yet another assignment in record time. it was awful, and everyone could tell that he was miserable. that’s why yuuta and maki’s relationship didn’t last much longer after the school year ends. he celebrates his birthday wondering if he should call you—and you spend the day typing and deleting a ‘happy birthday i miss you’ text. 

your final year of school starts, and you continue to debate with yourself over approaching him. it’s been months since you spoke, and you’re struggling to find the right words to say after all this time and distance. how could you explain yourself? ‘oh hey, sorry for dropping you, it was actually because you dated someone other than me.’ that’s hardly a convincing apology—and you don’t even know if he wants to see you. it had been a lonely several months without him, due to your own irrationality and instability, but still. you couldn’t bring yourself to stick around and yearn for him while he was in a relationship. now that he isn’t…things could be different. you decide to find him after you get settled into your dorm. you’re almost finished up, so you hurry out to grab the rest of your things. 

yuuta can’t stop looking for you. it’s your final move in day, and he has to see you. he wants to make sure everything will be okay between the two of you. he knows what room you’ll claim he just has to make the walk from the boys’ building to the girls’. he’s nervous to see you, but he’s excited, too. it all made sense to him now. you did have feelings for him after all, and he stomped all over them whenever he started dating maki. he understands why you distanced yourself even if it hurt him beyond words. but everything could be fixed now, he could admit the truth with the extra boost of confidence that understanding your absence gave him. he could make the first move with the reassurance, he actually cracks a little smile at the thought of your reconnection and acting on the feelings he’s tried to ignore for so long. 

then he sees you, and his smile spreads. he almost calls out your name, until he notices choso next to you, carrying what looks to be the remainder of your stuff towards your dorm. you seemed relaxed and cheerful, smiling softly and talking beside him as he nodded and gave the occasional grin to whatever you were saying. so this is what it felt like for you, then, huh? he supposed it was only a matter of time, every man you came across was charmed by you—and rightfully so. you must have finally decided to move on like he did, but it still feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart with a white hot blade. he’s standing on the sidewalk, rooted in place as choso opens the door for you even with the heavy stuff he’s carrying. you duck under his arm adorably, probably giggling out a thank you as you lead him to your bedroom. yuuta might be sick. 

but he has no place to. he did this to you, worse—in front of your face. at least you have no idea that he’s watching you. even as his heart crumbles in his chest and he does an about face back towards the boys’ dorms, he tries to make himself smile. he’ll be happy for you. this is all his fault. 

the rest of the day passes without you being able to find yuuta. you did run into choso while you were outside of your building. he and yuji were helping nobara out, but the former noticed you struggling to juggle all your things and offered to assist you too. you’ve worked with him before as well, so you didn’t think anything of it as you led him to your room to set everything down. you catch up with him for a bit and thank him for his help before you dismiss yourself in an effort to find your former best friend before curfew. it was a fruitless search. toge hadn’t seen him since he moved in, and panda still hadn’t arrived. he’d leave everything to the last minute. so with sadness settling in your gut, you return to your dorm and prepare for the first real day tomorrow. 

it’s no surprise that the first day means missions for the fourth years. yaga gives a whole spiel on how you all are adults now and all grade one or special grade sorcerers at this point in time. so he partnered toge and maki for a mission in nagoya, panda got a solo mission here in tokyo, and then he sent you and yuuta on a mission in osaka. 

his heart sank. there was no way he could get anyone to take his spot. he would be forced to walk alongside you and pretend he isn’t horribly depressed. you would mostly likely try to reconcile, and he missed you so horribly he would take you back in any vicinity. he wanted to fix things, to make things how they were supposed to be, and you’re supposed to be his girl. but what could he even do? maybe he would have you under his arm for this mission if he hadn’t been so brain dead. he can only blame himself, so yuuta extends the olive branch first. 

he waits for you at the gates. you can see the hilt of his sword as you round the top of the hill, and you swallow hard. you couldn’t help but think he was still avoiding you after looking for him for the better part of a day yesterday, so what would you say to him now? his grayish blue eyes meet yours, and you smile simply from the warmth that builds in your chest at the sight of him. he mirrors your smile easily, and it turns out you two can pick up right where you left off like nothing had ever happened. 

it’s relief. you were both so nervous that too much damage had been done. you wondered if the distance had grown so wide you couldn’t bridge the gap, and he could only think the same, but as soon as you joined his side, conversation flowed freely and laughter followed after. and even as the idea of you and choso nagged at his mind, he knew choso would never know you like he does. he would never fight alongside you so expertly, nor have all the history that the two of you have. if that’s all he’s got, then he can make it through this.  

the mission itself was a bit more of a struggle, for once. you blamed it on the fact you hadn’t coordinated attacks in months, but this grade one cursed spirit had way too many abilities and tactics to use against the two of you. you have the ability to copy cursed spirits techniques after they touch you, but it seemed as if this spirit had several different styles. they were spreading what appeared to be a fertilizer of some sort over the ground and walls, you couldn’t get close enough to it to touch, and you weren’t sure that copying this technique was going to be very helpful. 

“i’ll just boost your energy—we’ll have to fight the normal way.” you determine through a pant. none of your attacks had worked as planned so far. yuuta unsheaths his sword, chewing on the inside of his lip. he nods, seemingly analyzing the spirit and their dust to decide what he would do next. he surveys the abandoned ward of the hospital you were standing in, locating hiding spots.

“i’m going to sneak around, you try to keep it distracted?” he suggested, and you roll your eyes. it’s hardly a glorious plan, but you relent in it, letting him make the first moves would be more effective and decisive for the rest of the fight. he grins at your signature attitude, and jumps high into the sky. you chuckle at his showmanship, then run at the blob-looking cursed spirit with a whistle. you twirl your spear, watching as yuuta drops down in the dust behind it. his sword stabs through it a moment later, and you’re close enough to get your spear into the mix. at the impact, the spirit starts spitting out that powder, and you get a face full of it. 

you sputter and wipe at your face, trying to get it out of your eyes as you stumble back. the spirit laughs, while yuuta digs his sword into their flesh and tries to soothe your worries. 

“it’s harmless!” he calls out, yanking his sword out of its back and circling to the front to retrieve your spear. “just get it out—you’re okay!” 

the spirit laughs again, the glob-like substance melting into a pile as yuuta stabs it again, this time with the intent to exorcize it. “hardly, little woman!” the beast calls out in an automated croak. “cum is the only cure, female—you will die!” it laughs wildly, turning into a liquid under the pressure of yuuta’s energy. his eyes widen as you make a strangled noise of disbelief. 

you’re not sure if you’re blinking in shock or still recovering from its dust in your eyes, but you stumble back as it fully disappears. yuuta rushes to your side as soon as it’s over. you’re going to die? unless you…do something extremely lewd? he’s blushing deeply but it’s clearly out of concern for your life, of course. he’s disappointed in himself for letting you get affected. he imagined it had to get in the bloodstream to be effective since he was fine, but he could tell with one look at you that you were not. 

your eyes were heavily lidded, lips parted in a perfect pout as you stood on wobbly legs. you were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he could see your hands pulling at your uniform—and your inner battle to get yourself to stop. he walks towards you, concerned beyond belief. you would die if he didn’t help, and you do look so intoxicating like this…

“don’t come any closer—please.” you choke out, feeling around behind you to find a wall to back yourself against. your entire body coursed with uncontrollable heat and need, your pussy throbbing painfully. everything was intensified, your heaving chest, the smell of the man you’ve wanted for years, and the searing lust he looked at you with. you started to shake, and he knew he couldn’t obey your command. “i can’t control myself right now, please, oh my god–” you whine out as his warm and slightly callused hands cup your hot cheeks. 

“you heard it…you’ll die..” he says softly, wide and concerned eyes searching yours. he wasn’t under the same pressure, but his heart was racing and his dick was hurting at the prospect of fucking his crush. his tongue darts out to wet his lips. he looks almost as nervous and needy as you do. “i just got you back—and i’m definitely not letting you die.” 

you’re insatiable, the touch only made your brain fuzzy and scream out for more, your hands reach up for his forearms, whining weakly as the connection doesn’t satisfy you at all. “oh yuuta–it hurts so bad.” you pout, the look you give him is so pathetic he almost whines with you. “h-help me, please~”

he nods and smashes his lips on yours. you let out an animalistic grunt in relief, throwing your body at him and taking the kiss from heated to dangerous, your teeth gnashing and tongue poking at his bottom lip to get even closer. he can’t help but contemplate the words of the curse, they simply said cum was the cure. does that mean his or yours? and where? he doesn’t mind trying everywhere. 

you pull back, but your arms stay around his neck, hands knitted in his soft locks. “my clothes–god it feels like i’m burning.” he gently pushes you off of him so he could help you find relief, popping the buttons on your top and letting out a shaky sigh at the sight of your breasts spilling over your bra. he snakes his hands around your back, slender fingers working quickly to unlatch the clasps. he does let out a little moan this time—your tits sag when your bra drops, and yuuta pushes all the fabric off your upper half and his hands knead at your chest instantly, causing you to wail and moan. he’s trying to be normal, but this is anything but. he’s spent many a night with his fist wrapped around his dick, thinking about the first time he would have you, but it never went like this. he’s hardly complaining though, you’re so sensitive and your noises are so pornographic he’s trying not to bust in his pants. 

“i’m gonna start crying–” you sniffle, none of his touches were satisfying you like you needed, it was getting unbearable. you were burning up and your pretty eyes were filling with tears of needy frustration. he whimpers at the sight and hurriedly peels his own clothes off, shaking his head in worry. 

“oh, don’t cry! i’m here—i’ll..i’ll make it better!” he nods, hooking his fingers under your skirt, shoving it to the perfect dip of your waist. he looks at your soaked panties, and his heart stops. he’s really going to do this, you aren’t even in your right mind—he can’t help but feel like he’s taking advantage of you. 

“yuuta–please, i want you so bad, need you!” you cry out, crumbling to your knees before him. you paw at his pants, untying his belt and yanking at the sides of his pants hungrily. he gasps at your desire. he was perfectly happy to please you only, wanting to save you more than anything—maybe other than this, you looking up at him with your lip between your teeth as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach and making you moan out before you grab him. “fuck my mouth, okay–i need your cum, you heard it.” you sigh, eyes hazy with need as you lean in and kitten lick his pink tip.

his hand flies to your head, and he shudders just from that. you admire the sight of him, long and leaning to one side, cutely trimmed and a leaky slit meant just for you. “hope you didn’t let maki touch you—wanna feel all of it down my throat.” you rub your thighs together, fingers blindly playing with yourself to keep you from going insane. 

he blinks a bit at your profession of jealousy—and then he remembers choso. “aren’t you dating yuji’s brother?” he confronts, jutting himself forward a bit to see himself splayed along your perfect tongue. you huff at the accusation, brows furrowing as you shake your head. 

“never date anyone but you—” you confess, speech starting to slur. you aren’t able to think as clearly, all you can crave is his dick in your mouth, so you swallow him up. your nose tickles the dark patch of hair above his base, pretty teary eyes batting up at him as you moan around his cock. you want him to be rough? okay. he’ll do that for you–your life is on the line after all. he slides his hands to your cheeks as you work your way along him, up and down at such a sensual pace he’s a moaning mess like he’s affected by the technique. his noises only cause more of your own, his weighty tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag each time. he makes it worse when he decides to apply pressure, holding your head still and moving his hips instead. he fucks your face brutally, you didn’t think he had it in him. tears run down your face and gags and moans are all to be heard. he looks so good, brows set forward in focus and his pink lips parted to let his whimpers free. he tastes even better, and you think you cum when he does, his thick ropes hitting the same spot his dick was, but you swallow it all down anyway and lick your lips—waiting for more. he shudders, this was far too much for him to handle, he didn’t know how he could return to normal after this. 

“let me see you now.” he blurts out, sitting on his knees like you. he crawls closer to you, easing you to lay back on the floor. you’re not too good for it, especially not if it meant yuuta was going to make you feel better. you were frantic with need, spreading your legs as soon as you felt his touch to them, he sees your soaked panties again, and his semi perks all the way back up again. “can i take them off?” 

“fuck–please, yuuta, can’t take it anymore—put your mouth on me!” you call out his name so desperately he can’t help but wonder if you would be so slutty had someone else gone on this mission with you. the thought quickly disappears when he remembers your declaration, that you’d never wanted anyone but him, and he wants to ask if it’s true. surely he has time, you’re starting to look like pure sex and as bad as he wants to destroy you, he has to do so in good faith. 

“did you mean it—that you wouldn’t date anyone but me?” he asks, peeling your sloppy underwear away from your drenched cunt. you nod quickly, the cold air making you shiver with anticipation. you buck your hips toward him a little, still nodding. 

“why d’you think i stopped talkin’ to you? you chose her over me.” you pout, and he feels the guilt pang at his heart again as he picks your hips up off the floor, hooking his arms around your thighs. 

“it was a mistake–i didn’t know you wanted me–”

“i love you—don’t just want you��need you, pleaseee we’ll talk later!” you squirm in his grip and he snaps into it. your words push him to new heights, you love him. you love him and you need him more than anything, and god he would make sure you never regretted it. his tongue parts your lips and he grows ravenous immediately at the taste of you. he sucks at it, wanting as much of you on his taste buds as he could get. you mewl and pant immediately, bucking into his face and moaning at the way his nose collides with your clit. you can’t reach him with the angle he holds your hips at, helpless and only able to play with your own chest as he devours you. he slides his tongue inside you, groaning at how tight you are. he knows you’re going to squeeze his cock like a vice. you cry out his name in response, and it drives him crazy. white hot need flows through his veins and it's not enough to hear you. he needs to feel you cum in his mouth, feel you buck and writhe in his arms just like this–it makes him feel like the man you need. and the more you call his name, the more he believes he is. 

he tongue fucks you for a minute or two, just stroking your walls and tasting your insides. it makes you moan lowly, a purr almost, but when he slides his tongue up to your clit, your sounds turn higher, towards screams. it makes him feral, his teeth scrape against your hood and you lurch forward, whining to touch him. he makes out with your cunt, watching your face contort with pleasure. 

“i’m gonna cum for you, oh–yuuta!” you warn in a broken wail, and he moans against you, waiting for you to coat him in your juice. your legs clench around his head, shaking and jerking as your release hits you in waves. he works you through it, licking two fingers in preparation to work you open, but you shake your head. “please, please fuck me, can’t wait anymore–.” you press your legs to his face again, the need almost worse now that you’ve cum once. 

“it’s gonna hurt–” he winces, though the brain in his dick agrees with you wholeheartedly. 

“it already hurts—please, please, if you care about me at all, just..please!” you sigh out, thrashing in his arms as you plead. how could he deny you when you talk like that, especially if it will make you think he doesn’t care about you. 

“i care about you—i love you too, i–i’ll help you, i’m here.” he stammers around, lowering your legs to his hips. he angles his leaky cockhead against your hole, and your head falls back at the feeling and his confession. you nod, reaching for his hands that support your weight. 

“good—then fuck me like you love me.” you pant, your body so glorious and splayed wide just for him. he’s in heaven, and he can’t fight off his need any longer—especially if this was what you wanted, what you were begging him for. he fits his tip past your tight hole, sinking his length deeper in fluid strokes. you moan wantonly, and the sounds make his body tingle. you’re walking sex, he’s always thought that, but seeing you underneath him only confirmed your perfection. you nod your encouragement, even thrusting your hips up to meet him, and the pressure makes his eyes roll back. 

he fills you up like he was made to, squeezing between your walls and kissing your cervix once he’s in to the hilt. his fingers dig into your meaty hips, slamming your body down on him repeatedly until you’re both a mess of moans and sweat and heavy breathing. you squeeze down on him, mumbles of his name bless his ears and cause his dick to jump. 

he turns you over, hoping you can still support yourself on all fours. you shake, but hold yourself up, arching your back for him to slip his cock back in without a struggle. he faces no resistance, your juices dribble down your thighs and all around him, gurgling and squelching once he’s nestled inside. you moan at the new angle, only intensified by him laying over your back and catching your neck in his arm, adding support for your pathetic frame. he’s got you in a headlock, his hips driving into your round ass, the sounds of his gentle grunting sing in your ear. you’re so close, backing into him like you’ll never have the chance to fuck again–which he can assure you would not be the case. 

“yuuta–’m gonna cum ‘gain, gonna give yours to me?” you whine out, panting and struggling through your smooshed cheeks. he nods like you can see him, sweat dripping on your back. you massage him so well that he’s surprised he made it this long. 

“yes, i have to make sure you’ll be okay.” he sighs, stilling as a loud moan rips from his throat as he floods your insides, noting that he would have to buy a pill to make sure this didn’t turn into a lasting problem at your young adult age. it feels so good though, he doesn’t know how he would ever fuck you differently. you shiver, squeezing all the seed out of his cock as you come down from your own high. you slump forward, his arm was the only thing keeping you from face planting on the ground. he rubs gentle circles into your bruising hips as he catches his breath. 

“are you alright, does it feel better?” he quizzes, feeling himself go soft after several minutes of keeping you stuffed. “talk to me, i’m worried–”

“i’m great,” you giggle, feeling cum slide down your legs when he slips out of you, “better than ever. as long as that’s not a one time thing.” 

he leans over your back again, turning your head for a sweet kiss to your lips. “no, no. definitely not. sneak into my room tonight and i’ll make sure of it.”

[il-predestinato]

hello beautiful elle

since it is going to be a long 3 months without our boys could you please recommend some fics that you liked? cause i really like your writings and how realistic they are and i wanted to get some of you suggestions for the break!

love you loads

Thank you, lovely anon, for your very kind message! 🥺 I must admit I have fallen behind in reading fics. I am sure I am forgetting some excellent Lestappen fics/writers, but these are some of my all-time favourites!

Lestappen Fic Recs:

And in the end I will seek you out amongst the stars by mandzilkos (@geeeooorrrge) - rating: G, 22k words

Soulmate AU where you see in black and white until you meet your soulmate, and the world goes back to black and white after your soulmate dies. This is ALWAYS the first Lestappen fic that comes to mind whenever anyone asks for a recommendation, and it is probably my all-time favourite. The fic that inspired me to write Lestappen, if I'm honest.

getting half of you just ain't enough by shybear_styles - rating: E, 20k words

The friends with benefits story that spans the 2019 season. The only thing better than amazing smut is amazing smut with feels. For sure a top 5 fic in the Lestappen fandom for me. Also, this author is simply amazing in general and you should read all of her fics! I haven't given up hope that she will return one day and write more Lestappen. 🤧

you feel the mornin' feel by shybear_styles - rating: M, 3.3k words

Remember that time Sebastian Vettel asked Charles, "Is he [Max] pretty?" And we never got an answer because Charles descended into gay panic? Well, worry not! We get an answer in this fic.

Monaco Malaise by ProngsfootxJily (@cupidskissx) - rating: E, 8k words

Rivals with benefits, takes place after the 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Yes, this one is delicious smut but also a character study. Both of them are written so well, and it leaves you begging for more. Don't forget to check out the equally amazing sequel! (Don't worry, I have been relentlessly harassing her to write the sequel's sequel.)

algorithm by Anney (@badboy-george) - rating: M, 17k words

In a world where F1 uses simulation-based compatibility tests, five times Max doesn't find the right partner and the one time he does. Black Mirror ("San Junipero" and "Hang the DJ") vibes in the best way. Another one of my absolute favourite fics. If you've read any Lestappen fics, you've probably read "Every Other Sunday." This one is simply a masterpiece by the immensely talented Anney; definitely check out her other fics!

panem et circenses by Anney - rating: E, 13.2k words

Wow - simply devastating, haunting, an ode to these two as drivers, set in a dystopian future AU. The world building is absolutely incredible, but at its heart is such a beautiful story of love and hope. This one doesn't get enough recognition. (TW: implied non-con, not between Lestappen.)

Unlearn by wantinghopingwriting (Tazza1993) (@lightsoutfullhearts) - NR, 45k words

This is another all-time favourite, a must-read. Fake/pretend relationship to lovers multi-chapter story that is ever so satisfying; both of them are so well characterized. Set in a parallel-ish 2022 season. I really cannot recommend this one enough.

the edge of what can be loved by Ledger_m (@the-last-jedis) - rating: T, 13k words

The third wheel fic from the perspective of Max and Charles' various "Steves." It's funny, heartwarming, and everyone on the grid is nosy as fuck.

Charles Leclerc vs Red Bull caps by Ledger_m - rating: T, 6.4k words

Charles is the hero we all need, as he goes on a mission to get rid of all of Max's stupid Red Bull caps. This is REQUIRED reading! Kami is a genius. Go read all of her fics.

If You Don't Play, You'll Never Win by antimonyandthyme (@antimonyandthyme) - rating: T, 4.1k

Post 2021 Monaco Grand Prix. Max wants to take their relationship further; Charles... doesn't. Oh my God, where do I begin to describe how much I love this fic. The language is beautiful, both of them are so well-written, and I feel punched in the gut over and over again in the best way. The ending (well, the whole thing) is so damn satisfying.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) by stylestappen (@stylestappen) - rating: G, 3k words

Max has a meltdown in the cereal aisle (yes, the cereal aisle) at 3 am when he realizes he is in love with Charles despite the latter's questionable taste in cereal. Dani has an absolutely wicked sense of humour! (Although I don't understand what she has against cocoa puffs 😭.) She also wrote a banger of a Lestappen soon-to-be teammates fic, so make sure to check out her profile.

Max Verstappen: Spotify Extraordinaire by frnndtorres - rating: G, 26k words

Max makes Spotify playlists for the grid. Fluffy, funny, care-free, liberal use of nicknames, with a healthy dose of feels between Max and Charles. A really fun read.

i love the way your green eyes mix with that malibu indigo by altissimozucca (@altisssimozucca) - rating: G, 11k words

Max and Charles spend summer of 2020 together in Malibu and try not to fall in love. Spoiler alert: they fall in love. I feel the urge to explain something: When I first started reading Lestappen, there were less than 250 fics in their entire tag (yeah I know, we are currently close to 3000 fics, which is insane). From 2019-2021, we truly lived off crumbs. So trust me when I say that we owe so much to altissimozucca, who wrote something like 40% of the fics in the Lestappen tag and nearly single-handedly kept us fed in those days. It's so hard to pick one of her fics to recommend, so make sure you check out her profile for more!

#803442 by altissimozucca - rating: M, 1k words

Max and Charles celebrate the end of the 2019 season in a hotel room. So soft, so fluffy, so satisfying.

Bruises by eefiplier - rating: E, 5.1k words

I think of this one as THE Lestappen smut fic. Oh my God, it's 5k words of amazing established relationship smut with all the feels. A classic. I can read this one over and over again.

outside the box by playclock (@endowataru) - rating: M, 6.1k words

Max falls in love with Charles' driving... oh and Charles himself too. They are ultra competitive idiots who are madly in love. There aren't enough established relationship fics out there, but this one is simply amazing. And don't forget to check out this author's profile for additional Lestappen fics. I promise every single one is a banger!

i made it link by link by purpleglasseswrites (@f-ferrari-forever) - rating: M, 4.2k words

Charles and Max try to be kinky, but who are they kidding - they are far too vanilla for that stuff. 🤣 This one is so sweet, and don't forget to read the sequel!

One man's trash, another man's treasure by AzziNow (@track-terror-apologist) - rating: T, 4.2k words

Charles turns into a raccoon and terrorizes everyone except Max. (Well, he terrorizes Max too... slightly.)

Call it madness, call it love… by AzziNow - rating: M, 3.5k words

Ferrari auctions off Charles for charity. No angst, just fluff. Alpha!Max/Alpha!Charles. So I confess that I never read A/B/O fics. There's nothing wrong with it - just not my cup of tea. But I really enjoyed this one. Al has such a chaotic sense of humour.

it all reminds me of you by grandprix (@grandprix-ao3) - rating: E, 3k words

Secret relationship Lestappen with flashbacks. Oh the yearning, the desire, the smut - incredibly satisfying. I must put a plug-in for this author's other Lestappen fics as well. Never misses - make sure to check them out!

burning you into my mind by thightattoos - rating: E, 4.1k words

Porn with feels and possessiveness. You cannot ask for anything more. I must have read this one a dozen times.

an evil plan or two by witchee_writer - rating: T, 5.2k words

Max and Charles are roped into a plan to get Brocedes back together; they come to a few realizations along the way. The only thing better than a Lestappen fic? A Lestappen AND Brocedes fic!

Fine Line by empireoffclouds - rating: NR, 7k words

One of the more light-hearted enemies to friends to lovers fics. I absolutely adore their dynamic here - it's snarky, warm, but also so them. The incomplete sequel is also a super fun read.

Into Darkness Of Thought by flamingosarepink - rating: T, 1k words

After the 2019 Japanese Grand Prix, Charles thinks Max isn't coming back to their shared space.

steal softly under castle walls by untouchableocean - rating: G, 521 words

Max gets home late from Milton Keynes and Charles has already fallen asleep. Short, tooth-rooting fluff of the best kind.

Zoomies by greeny1710 (@maxlambiase) - rating: E, 2.2k words

This one is just hilarious. A (mostly) naked Max walks into Charles' team Zoom call during the COVID lockdown.

...and many, many more that I'm sure I have forgotten! 🙈 You can also check out my AO3 bookmarks (the first few pages are pretty much all Lestappen fics).

Please remember to leave kudos and comments for these amazing writers. The talent in this fandom is absolutely incredible. They all deserve so much recognition. Happy reading!

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Hello!! I just want to say first that your writing is extremely wonderful and very talented, I truly enjoy reading your writing !!

I was wondering if you can write headcanons and thoughts in everyone in The Kid at The Back if they encounter a stern and cold MC/Reader , heck even more colder than Geo ! :)

Frore (All x Cold! MC/Reader)

So...basically, turns out if a request relates to either IRL me or my MC I go berserk??? Yippee???

ALSO, ASK BOX AND REQUESTS ARE CLOSED UNTIL MY INBOX IS EMPTIED, THANK YOU.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Frore: frozen; frosty.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you’d first stepped into the bleak, soulless halls of Olympieus University, you felt a strange familiarity amongst the numbing lifelessness that everyone amongst you seemed to possess. If your heart – the one that continues to relentlessly pound inside your torso – had been exposed to the world, cleaved open and picked apart, it would be just as gracelessly chilled and still as this wretched place.

As your days there turned into years, you were depicted as a sociopath, as an allegedly heartless and callous soul that had grown vehemently hateful and bitter over the years. You couldn’t care whether you were revered or resented by the masses, for you were here to rewin your place at your former school. To retake the No. 1 spot, to reclaim what once belonged to you. What should’ve stayed yours.

Unfortunately, now you stand amongst your acquaintances, people whose existence you’d but merely heard of. You wonder briefly, if these would be the people whom you’d develop an alien sense of fondness for.

And with time, you realised you had…

By the time Sol had talked to you for the first time, he’d already painted a magnum opus of your character.

He knew you were a frore soul, one who held a prowess for hiding, stifling or exsanguinating emotions, or any form of intense feeling from situations; no matter how extreme or bizarre.

He could tell, from the moment you spoke to him in that cold, crystal-clear voice, that you were significantly more aloof than the average person, you bore no shyness, no sense of boredom, just a monotone efficacy that he found himself respecting, (along with finding immensely hot, ironically enough).

You, to him, were a mystery. Sure, he’d overheard things about you, either from classmates or Hyugo, but he wanted to learn things about you from you.

In all honesty, he was definitely pretty fucking intimidated when you first approached him, which – mind you – is an extremely rare occurrence for him; but he gathered that you were simply a tough nut to crack and he was going to wait as long as possible to gain your favour and eventual love.

When he notices how bluntly and swiftly you deal with problems, how nonchalantly you brush off insults or rumours and how you’re so uncaring towards the opinions of others? Oh my God, he’s cumming awed.

He eagerly awaits the days where you drop little tidbits of info about yourself, and even more so the days where he coaxes a little smile or wide-eyed expression from you. Any day where he learns something about you is entirely worth it, no matter how boring it may have been.

Overtime begins to form a genuine bond with you, and as you warm up to him, he slowly begins to show his more affectionate side.

And after a while, you learn to reciprocate. You don’t have to smile, or blush, or anything. Just a hug from you, one that he knows is meaningful, is more than enough.

Will probably just end up stating he likes you without any bullshitting or beating around the bush; he knows you’re more head-on and straight forward, so he’ll do the same.

If, heh, sorry, when you accept, he’ll just die. Of bliss. You will have to just ask him several times if he requires emergency assistance, but he can’t hear you over the sound of his throbbing dick heart. He’s gonna be a beetroot while you’re just…chill.

Won’t try to make you show emotion if you’re just not the type of person who does (or can) do so. He knows you well enough that you’re genuine, and if you come off harsher than intended? It’s okay, he understands. Nothing you do can shake him off anyway. <3

When Hyugo first became acquainted with you, he honestly thought you must be a secret brain-twin of Geo’s, considering your deadpan tone and expressionless face.

In a way, you immediately intrigued him. You weren’t trying to appear mysterious or enigmatic, this was simply who you were. And if there’s anything Hyugo enjoys, it's being a detective. Solving enigmas, cracking open mysteries. You were the perfect puzzle for him.

When you ended up being in the same art class as him, he was pretty pleased. Considering how he often had access to plenty of gossip outlets who dubbed you as a bitch or a pick-me for not acting ‘normal’; having you – the real you – in the flesh was incredibly satisfying. He relished in the fact that he could either prove or dismiss the piles of ‘evidence’ that people claimed to have against you.

Hyugo’s a pretty charismatic person, so he tries to befriend you, but you seem to take a more hostile approach to this; immediately raising all walls and shields. It made him wonder whether this was due to you having nasty past experiences, or if this was simply who you were. Another mystery.

Fortunately, if you decide that these advances of his weren’t to harm or hinder you, you seem to become a lot more approachable. In your own way, which tends to be a more logical, blunt sense of approval.

When you request to start sitting with him, he’s pretty happy; despite how you’re a walking talking enigma, he grew to like you as a person as well. You felt more genuine than a lot of other people he’s acquainted with, and that is a big green flag for him.

Overall he’s pretty accepting of your nature, although it does irk him secretly that you’re harder to read. Until he decides that he’s not gonna bother, after all, he did grow up alongside a Subaru Oogami. 

He only develops feelings when you start opening up to him, and he notices the little faces you make when you’re amused or concerned. He finds them adorable, in a way.

He deems it very rewarding when you bless him with information about yourself, or a hint of any form of approval or respect. It feels like fulfilling a goal, and he’s very much a goal-driven person. It’s like tunnel-vision for him.

He doesn’t know when he exactly felt your friendship blossom into something ‘more’, but he feels like you’re a person – despite your lack of emotional expression, tone (and perhaps knowledge) – who is smart, kind and honest.

He’ll probably try to avoid confessing for a while (he can’t tell if you like him back lmfao), but when he eventually decides to just get it over with and you reciprocate? He’s astounded.

Even if you stated how you felt with the flattest tone imaginable, he’d know, deep down, it was serious.

He’d just be a flushed mess and you’re just slightly blushing. Either way, when you’re in a relationship, not only can he determine very easily that you’re not a bitch, but also that you’re just a very epic individual. <3

Brittney was more so unnerved when she first met you, she was honestly worried you were going to point a gun to her head and blow her brains out.

You just had that menacing emptiness in your eyes and the most nonchalant air about you. She didn’t know how to perceive you; not even Geo was this monotone.

Would mostly avoid you for the most part, until you joined the friend group. Would be silently yelling at Crowe the whole time. It’s not that she dislikes you, it’s just…you’re very peculiar to her. She’s not a fan when she doesn’t have the ability to instantly gain a read on someone.

If you decide to start talking to her, she’s gonna be utilising her confident facade to the utmost extreme, she refuses to appear nervous in front of you.

After a while, when you’ve started warming up to the group – like they to you – Brit decides that you’re just a bit socially awkward and don’t intend to come off as unapproachable as you are. Part of her feels a bit bad for making assumptions about you, but she’s surrounded by the goss, it's gonna paint a picture.

Starts talking to you more, and overtime realises you’re actually very interesting to talk to. You’ve got personality, intellect, sarcasm. She’s honestly very pleased her group was the one you chose to join.

If you get harassed by bullies, and don’t let it get to you, or better yet, defend yourself? She’s going to have a fuckton of respect for you.

Asks you what music you like, you guys end up forming a partnership of exchanging songs and makeup tutorials.

Doesn’t realise it until too late, but she’s really into you. Your confidence, boldness and relatability is very appealing to her. You also have enough self-respect to hold your own in a destructive, sabotaging environment like Olympieus; and that makes her feel a bit inferior to you. For the most part, she’s keeping up a mask. You make her feel secure, weirdly enough.

Will be very hesitant on sharing her feelings for you, knowing how great you are at revealing yours, but if she gets a hint that you like her back, she’ll just get it over and done with.

Is so stunned you felt the same that the only thing she thought of doing was a cunty-ass hairflip.

When in a relationship, she’ll probably ask you to be slightly less stone-faced, and if you show even little bits of emotion or expression, she’ll be extremely satisfied. Will do her best for you as well. <33

110% will ask how you achieved such levels of self-assurance; you both will also be the types to exchange life advice out of nowhere when watching a shitty romcom. :))))

Jess is legitimately terrified of you; my girl is best friends with Gyaru-Gossip-Girlboss Brittney Claire, she’s going to hear at least 21 times about how allegedly never made a single face expression except for pure rage or disgust. 

Will begin to wonder how you turned out that way, ends up becoming incredibly curious about you. She impulsively decides to ask her online friends for advice on how to approach you, realises the next day she’s too scared to take it.

Will honestly meet you through coincidence, and by coincidence I mean you’re in a class or two together.

Ends up realising you’re genuinely smart, albeit a little cocky, doesn’t know how to feel about it. Ends up feeling panic when she ends up sitting next to you one day, after being late due to traffic.

You both actually end up getting along quite decently, so you end up sitting together for the rest of the semester, and eventually, by decision of Crowe Ichabod, you start sitting with her group at lunch.

By this point she probably just feels high levels of respect for you. Well, until she gets a lower mark than her usual 80%s. She’s on the verge of tearing up, until you ask if she wants tutoring. That’s how you guys started texting, and we know Jess is 110% not shy online.

It’s because of aforementioned tutoring and texting that she develops actual feelings for you, won’t realise it until much later though.

It’ll be Brit who ends up getting you both together, either through sheer luck or a lot of pushing on both sides, it somehow happens.

When you walk up to her and ask to speak to her privately, she’s immensely paranoid. That is until you confess very aloofly how you feel.

My girl is just torn, she is shooketh. Then she becomes a stuttering mess and can’t speak to save her life. To her this is both a miracle and a WTF moment.

When she states how she feels about you, you’re just chill about it. When you both start dating though, she’s entirely used to your demeanour, although she does get a smidge paranoid about what you’re thinking at times. You’re gonna have to frequently reassure and remind her that you’re happy to be with her; and don’t fret, she’s also ecstatic she has you. <33

Geo first met you when Crowe introduced you to him and the others, and he did not give a single fuck. You didn’t either. You both essentially avoided one another unless you had to interact, which was a 1/1,000,000 chance if at all.

He only started paying attention to your existence when he noticed you were getting picked on by a bunch of troglodytes. Knowing that you were friends with his friends, he was somewhat prepared to step in if needed; yet your response was unblinkingly, emotionlessly staring into their eyes, grabbing the leaders’ wrist and flexing your arm. 

The guy was honestly a smidge unnerved by how much strength you had, and the fact that those people didn’t fuck with you again made him feel an ounce of respect. 

Your conversations only started when you realised you’d gotten somewhat closer with the others. Sure, you could ignore his existence, but you’re not a pussy, are you? Striding over to him, a cold, machine-like rhythm in your steps, you ask him about himself. He, as you expected, doesn’t answer and glares down at you; so you glared right the fuck back, his distaste matching perfectly with your ornery.

Your relationship only improved because of a mutual respect you had for each other. Sure, you both didn’t get along that well, but each person knew the other was competent, intelligent and able to handle themselves.

And so, overtime, the both of you found a weird solace in one-anothers’ relatability. There was no need for filler conversation, you could simply lean against trees together in serene calm.

Geo would only become truly invested when he notices how little you’ve cracked. If he was a geode (heh, get it?), you were like Minecraft bedrock.

Not that he minded, it simply was a weird anomaly, having someone be colder and more reticent than him.

Would start developing feelings when you stand up for one of his friends, most likely offering to help Brittney or Jess. Not that you deemed them weak, but you just utilising your reputation to get some people off of their asses was…nice. 

You made people genuinely paranoid, and if you pretended like these protective acts weren't from a place of goodwill? It worked wonders. You were the Robin Hood of bullies, you bashed them up and defended their targets to the end.

Of course, Geo isn’t the type to readily accept he likes you, so anything blossoming between you two will take fucking ages. Crowe and Brit will have to be wing(wo)men for you both, seriously.

Advances of his would consist of him being more snarky with you, more intrusive in knowing what you’re doing, ensuring your safety consistently…acts of service, mixed with a strange overprotectiveness. You didn’t know how to feel about it, or him (denial is a river in fucking Egypt).

You’ll have to be the one to confess, and thank God it’s done privately, or you’d have never seen Geo have a faint pink blush dust his pallid face, or him trying to compose himself when he quietly accepts and reciprocates his emotions and feelings for you.

You’re both black cats that just hiss at everybody else, only softening up when in the presence of the other and being content in one-another’s soft company. No bullshitting, nothing overtly emotional, just upfront, genuine feelings with a smidge of quality time and doing each others’ hair and makeup. <33

When Crowe was first acquainted with you, during both your first years at Olympieus, he was intrigued by your guarded posture and stoicism. He’s the friendly type, so he knew he’d end up introducing himself one way or another to you; and as soon as he found himself face to face with you? He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit nervous. 

Your eyes bore through him, deep and lifeless. It was as if sheets of ice had abandoned your eyes in pitch-black darkness; rendering the true colours and liveliness trapped beyond unbounding walls of cynicism.

He’d been all smiles at the time, but as soon as your mutual introductions had ended, he was almost convinced you wanted him dead. Your answers had been quick and sharp, like a bullet popping during a quiet night.

When you were put in the same class together, he decided to observe you. He didn’t know why, he just felt this innate urge to learn more about you.

You weren’t shy, he picked up on that quite quickly, judging by your authoritarian aura. What he also picked up, is you tended to be very closed off to people whom you deemed as ingenuine or shallow.

He decided he wanted to get past those beliefs of yours and see what lay behind those gelid eyes, and over the span of the next few years, he did.

Nowadays you were still stoic and firmly logical, but you were well-meaning, funny and kind. Hell, you were smart as a whip, there isn’t much he could say to take you down a notch. You’re extraordinary to him.

And well, one day he realises the feelings and sheer pedestal he’s put you on aren’t…exactly platonic. The racing of his heart when you cock your head at him, that squeeze when you bemusedly smile. He ended up going from inquiring to worshipping. He couldn’t even determine where this had come from.

Luckily, a distraction would be to have his friends meet you! He can admire you from afar and have you close by, he’s lost count of how many times you both have had to move hangouts to study.

What he didn’t realise, was you’d also developed feelings for him. Potent ones; and with the help of a certain Brittney Claire, along with plenty of obvious hints, you ask Crowe out. He’s a tad embarrassed he didn’t end up being the one to ask, but he’s blushing hard anyway.

When you guys are together, he’ll ask you how you prefer to address issues, communicate etc. Your boundaries, hobbies, kinks are talked about with each other, and you both thrive on being honest and upfront. Don't worry though, he’ll still be poetic and a romantic-at-heart. ;]

Deryl is honestly excited when he first meets you (most likely through Crowe). Similarly to Hyugo, you remind him of Geo; and he’s a pretty big fan of Geo.

To him, the coldest people are often the nicest deep down, and beneath their icy exterior possess the most opulent hearts of gold.

So he makes an effort to befriend you, slowly of course, he doesn’t want to push his luck. His curiosity and need for stubborn cat-like friends is powering him through the days of you bluntly telling him to either leave you be or to ask him about himself. He knows you’re steering the topic away, but he’ll let you. For now.

Will ask you if you play(ed) any sports, and depending on your answer will either excitedly ask about your experiences/roles/team position, or query whether you’ve just not had the time, chance or interest.

Will offer to teach you sports as a sort of hangout activity. He doesn’t care if you’re shit at it, he wants to try and see how you act in different situations. Turns out he’s quite perspicacious when it comes to reading people. That’s kinda when he deems you as a not-asshole.

Over time you both (mostly you) warm up to one-another, and you one day offer Deryl some candy. Bad idea. Scratch that, horrible idea.

It made you like him a bit more, weirdly enough. It helped you realise that he wasn’t acting friendly for the sake of it (at least, not with the friend group), and he was just a massive goofball.

You felt a weird fondness for him at that point, and every now and then when he’d ask if you wanted to hang out, you made sure to pretend to think it through before silently nodding. The shock and eagerness on his face made the days just slightly better.

Soon enough, he comes to the conclusion that he also holds feelings for you, quite strong ones, in fact. He’s pretty distraught at first, but then decides to ask the almighty Geo for advice. Not love, that…isn’t exactly a topic Geo specialises in, but more so how to approach such a matter with you. Geo just shrugs in response (he’s such a mood).

However, Deryl, knowing the type of person you were, decides it’d be best if he just mustered up the strength and told you. Running away from the feelings would work for a while, but he just hoped you wouldn’t be too repulsed.

When he gets his feelings off his chest, it’s like a weight was lifted from your soul. You deemed yourself far too unapproachable, too monotone for someone as lively as him; but hey, opposites attract, right?

After you nonchalantly reciprocate, it takes him a hot second to process the positive response, and he’s a ball of pure joy and energy. He’s ecstatic, actually, it’s like a burden had been thrown off of his shoulders.

During the process of you two dating, you’re compared to the ‘Black Cat + Golden Retriever’ shipping trope, and he’s content with that. It’s not a lie, after all. (You just don’t care lmfao). He learnt across the span of your friendship-turned-relationship a lot of gestures or movements which indicated how you felt. 

My guy is as supportive as you can get to be honest, his logic is “If nobody is hurt, it’s okay.” You’re a priority of his, and he knows you won’t screw him over. 

You can sleep well knowing these things: Deryl’s loyal, he’s respectful and he’s a fucking sweetheart.

[parkerluvsu]

okay wrote a request for chiropractor!art or some type of body worker!art a few nights ago very late and stoned so sorry if it was messy or phrased impolitely. if you would be so kind as to bestow some of your artistic talent upon the proposed concept, i would be very grateful, obviously no pressure or rush. please and thank you!

if you’re open to it, picture art being immediately smitten upon seeing you. you’re a little taken aback by his appearance and charm, but resolve yourself to focus on tending to your long aching body and focusing on pain management and healing to whatever capacity you may achieve.

little do you know, art is growing exponentially enamored. he was initially smitten by the way your eyes met his, your voice when you greeted him, and countless other little wonders about you.

he is the picture of professional, externally. no one needs to know he anticipates your sessions all week. schools himself into not losing his composure over the forced proximity prompted by the setting. he grows obsessed with trying to untangle and pinpoint the layers of your smell when he’s all up in your space. he’s being so normal about pushing up your legs as far back as they can go, slowly gaining more and more ground. he definitely doesn’t think about the ways he can bend and fold you right here right now, or the positions he could use his profession to help you work up to. he doesn’t feel his ethics hanging by a thread every time another lovely sound is pushed out of you. tells you to breath makes intense eye contact while coaching you through breathing in spite of overwhelming pain when addressing a tight spot. tenderly talking to you through any pain. touching every inch of you, to get to the root of any discomfort only, of course. he has immense respect for you, especially considering you’ve been carrying immense pain so gracefully for so long.

he knows he can’t date a patient but that doesn’t mean his mind can’t wander…

wonder what he thinks about… gets up to…

anyhow, thank you for entertaining this ask and full respect however you choose to engage with it or not.

thank you good sir.

holy fuck 😭😭 i mean what can i add to this perfect ask?!?!

im imagining that you didn't exactly know that your chiropractor would be a man.. i mean all your previous ones weren't, so when you walked into the clean, organized office and were met with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.. yeah, you were a little surprised.

but you tuck those feelings deep down and try to be professional, telling him how it hurts when you raise your arm too high, and how your calves keep cramping no matter what you do. and art listens, nodding his head every once and a while and taking little notes on his clip board. but despite trying to he professional, you can't help but look away when his pretty blue eyes meet yours.

then he gets to work, telling you to lay on your stomach while he digs his thumbs into your leg muscles, and you're fighting the urge to make absolutely embarrassing sounds, but art couldn't even notice that if he wanted to.. he's in his own world, letting his hands massage and bend your legs gently, the soft skin sending him almost into a trance, sometimes interrupted by thoughts of rubbing lotion into other places on your body.. wondering if you're this soft everywhere.. wondering how far he could take this without you noticing his erection in his pants.. but art is a professional.. he wouldn't put his job on the line just to get his dick wet.. but that doesn't stop him from thinking about it..

in the next session you two have together (which art has been not so subtly preening himself for), art works on your shoulders, asking you to sit up while he presses his palms into your shoulder blades, biting his lip when you make a noise of discomfort, torn between wanting to comfort you, and wanting to hear more..

after he books your next appointment, art sends you on your way with his signature sweet smile, before shutting himself in his office and cancelling all of his appointments for the rest of the day.. definitely not because hes rubbing the sweet lotion that he always uses on you at your appointments into his hands.. groaning and spreading his legs in his chair to grant himself better access to shallowly thrust his hips into his hand.. the pink head of his cock peeking out of his fist every once and a while.. when the thought of your noises from earlier that day pop into his head.. arts a goner, shooting white rivulets onto his navy blue work pants.

cleaning himself up, art sends you an email insisting that it would be in his best interests if you would have a session with him 2 times a week.. of course just to help you feel better quicker, not because he needs more inspiration for those lonely nights alone at the office <33

[metranart]

Mitsuya Takashi x Reader (Tokyo Revengers)(Shameless smut)(PART 2)

LINK TO PART 1 HERE! - Warning tag: nsfw, possessive!Mitsuya, naive!reader, first time sucking cock, teenage hormones ragging, cock-drunk!reader, pet names, unprotected blowjob, praise, creampie, out in the open, cumplay, sloppy blowjob, love confessions , teenage craves, hormonal minds out of control, cum swallowing, face fucking, heavy teasing, Mitsuya being cute little fucker.

-

Takashi Mitsuya wasn't lying when he reminded you that he was a dangerous gang member, as no other boy his age would look so intimidatingly dangerous from the ground.

You don't know when he put you on your knees, nor when he took his cock out, the only thing you know is that now he prodded your closed lips, smearing the swollen head against the cold flesh, precum coating it like a lipstick before ordering.

“Open up,” Mitsuya commanded with the little patience you had left him and you being the instigator that he loved, obeyed.

You didn't know why you pushed him over the edge so hard, but you just couldn't stop, not when he looked so frustrated and stupidly handsome when he was flustered.

You looked at him from your kneeling position with eyes full of defiance and feigned innocence and it made him loose the little control he had left. Fuck! The boy thought, fucking hell! He cursed under his breath, he loved you so much that he could cum on your pretty face right then and there, but he held back. You wanted milk, he would give you milk.

Smirking dangerously calm, his fingers caressed your face making you lean into his touch like a purring kitten, and without warning, he pinched your nose, restricting the air. Your eyes widened at his sly move, and he just smiled when you instinctively opened your mouth. 

Your cheeks turned impossibly red at the act that you had already seen him use against his little sisters when they didn't want to eat... the context was totally different but still, it moistened your pussy making the fabric of your panties stick at how enticing you found it.

“There we go,” you heard him moan huskily as he shoved that huge piece of raw, palpitating meat down your frozen throat. “That’s it, kitten.” He purred, eyes shutting close as he bottomed down, kissing the back of your throat, “—nice and full, ngh.... want me to thrust or you think you had enough, babygirl?” 

The lilac haired boy was just showing a display of power, he loved you and would never, EVER hurt you, but you do need to know he wasn't someone to tease, he wasn't all honey, he was dangerous. He was a violent gang member, not just a talented seamstress…. but you weren't just an innocent kitten either.

Your arms hugged his thighs to his immense surprise, and your nose nuzzled against his pubic hair, swallowing him even deeper. Mitsuya had to swallow hard, ironically.

Your pretty, watery eyes looked up, lips impossibly stretched, and cheeks hollowed as your hands linked into a knot behind him. Without losing eye contact, you slid his thick, long cock out of your mouth, saliva painting every inch until your lips kissed the head. 

“When I asked you to use me, I was talking to the gang member, honey,” you teased openly, ignoring the tears falling on either side of your cheeks, “do you think he can fuck my mouth before the bell rings?”

It was an open challenge, and as a member of the Toman, Mitsuya was used to answer and emerging victorious. 

“My beautiful, wonderful, naive little girlfriend,” tsked the eager gang member, “—I suggest you breathe through your nose.”

And without further ado, his firm hands on either side of your face pulled you again to swallow it, this time you only got halfway before you started choking, which this time Mitsuya ignored.

He began to fuck your mouth as you had asked, pounding those narrow hips against your face, a delicious back and forth that only became more exciting when his heavy balls hit your chin, gaging sounds echoed around the deserted and hidden playground, saliva falling down your chin as you struggled to keep it inside your mouth, your jaw would no doubt hurt afterwards.

“That's it,” Mitsuya praised holy driven, taking his cock out just for a couple of seconds to give you a small break, he palmed the phallic flesh, prodding hard at your tongue to get your mouth to water more for him.

“Look-” he pointed his thumb back through his shoulder. “There’s a slide there, do you want me to sit on it?”

Your loving and caring boyfriend didn't want your knees to suffer and in that position he would definitely take longer to come, lying on the slide he would have better access and control of your head.

You all but moaned before nodding your head. “God that’s so cute-” your boyfriend purred with a loving smile and then pulled you up into his arms to carry you to the slide, where he sat and place you on top of his lap. 

“Ain’t you just the sweetest thing to ever sit on my lap?” He said more to himself, even so, staring straight into your eyes, strong palms doing the gentlest of massages along the shape of your jaw, easing the pain away with every careful motion of his working thumbs. 

“Mhm, yes, she definitely is.” He agreed to himself flippantly, leaning to kiss your heaving lips heatedly, his tongue tasting himself and the ice pop in a mix of new flavors that only serve to roughen him up, making him feral again. 

“Enough pampering for the princess, back to work, sweet thing.” Obeying like the good girlfriend you aimed to be, you climb down from his lap, and cuddled between his spread thighs. Yes, in that position you were comfier, so thoughtful of him. Nestling his cock back into your mouth, let him palm your skull with both hands to use your throat as his own personal fleshlight. 

“Fuck- that’s good.” He snarled, deep and husky, watching his progress as he thrusted into your throat- nice and lax thanks to your eagerness to please him. Your hazy, now watery eyes stared endearingly forward, right up at his cock while Mitsuya fucked your face. Your boy studying your pretty, teary and flushed face with a pleased hum. “I think my girl has sucked dick before.”

“Hm?” you questioned; an eyebrow raised.

“-If I dip my fingers inside your pussy how wet would they come out, pretty?” You kept bobbing your head up and down his shaft, openly ignoring his accusation with a blunt shrug of your shoulders, making him laugh heartedly. 

“Well hot damn.” Mitsuya spelled between chuckles, pulling your face up to nestle into his lilac pubic hair. “Won’t have to train you too much then, yeah sweetheart?”

He said, before shoving his cock down your throat at a steady pace. "That's better." The gang member hummed as he kept thrusting down your cold throat, fucking the back of your mouth. “Fuck! The mix of cold and warm inside your mouth is something else-,” you choked around his length, closing your eyes- trying to concentrate. 

There was no way to close your lips around him as he shoved into your gag-reflex, making you drool over yourself. 

"Swallow, (Y/N)." He commanded, and you did so, swallowing around him, which in turn made him groan. The heat of his body grew, and he quickly began to open his shirt because when felt that it was suffocating him, your small hands without hesitation climbed up his thighs, up, up until reached his toned stomach, where you traced each sinful muscle with special interest, scratching and tracing the soft skin until there were little red lines as a devastating proof of your need for him.

You hiccupped, blinking back tears as the burning in your throat began to sting. Shakily, you held up your hand- and Mitsuya had the courtesy to pull back and allow you to rest. You could feel the pressure build- your gag reflex going crazy- Mitsuya pulled out of your mouth entirely, gently grabbing you head by the hair and wrenching your face up.

"What does my little cocksucker needs?” he grunted, landing his thick thumb on your dripping lower lip, “Does my princess had enough?" Mitsuya smirked, one of those dangerous smirks of his. "Nah!" she can take it...."

⭕️ READ THE WHOLE CHAPTER IN MY PATREON LINK (Also find NSFW art of this story and an animation) .... Plus, more stories of Tokyo Revengers and JJK, each with a NSFW art from scenes of the story, plus! 'tier rewards' like: voting poll privilege for future stories, couple pairing selection and kinky mood selection for the story and images, and my eternal gratitude for your support!!!

*REBLOG THIS POST and enter the monthly dynamic: FREE Commission of April. That's right! Reblog my posts and at the end of the month I'll make a random roulette wheel to choose the winner of a free commission. Don't miss out! You are a Reblog away from winning!

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[chaosgremlinmunson]

Soul-Searching

For @steddie-week July 4: body swap

Steve wakes up slowly, he's so comfortable and is surrounded by luxurious silk sheets, a million pillows, and a cool dark room. He blinks for a moment thinking maybe he's still asleep, maybe this is still a dream. His overworked mind thinking of the height of luxury instead of his flat above the coffee-shop he manages working odd hours and barely sleeping. He's making it, but just barely, were it not for Claudia and Dustin Henderson and the casseroles sent weekly he's sure he'd be malnourished. I mean, food or bills? Well, he can get a few tiny staples, but the bills need paid or it's sleeping in his tiny car, the Beemer having been sold out from under him at 19 when he finally told his father he wasn't going to work for him, he was queer, and he was going to find his own way if they couldn't accept him. The fight that ensued insured he'd never be considered a Harrington again, oh he could keep his last name, but make no mistake, that was the day Richard and Diane Harrington's son died. So here he was hallucinating a life he could only dream of, he raised a hand to wipe at his eyes and noticed the ink littering his skin. Black nail polish, and as he sat up long dark curls cascading over his shoulders and face. He rose immediately searching through the dark for a light switch and then spinning to find a mirror only to see the front man of Corroded Coffin staring back at him. He gaped at his reflection turning this way and that, his eyes roving over the body before him before landing on the bare hips in the mirror. To his left the phone rang, and he launched himself over the bed to retrieve it.

“Hello?” He said quietly.

“Hey, yeah, hi.” His voice said back, what the fuck, his voice? How? “So, uh, it seems like I'm either hallucinating, or, and hear me out, I body swapped with whoever you are. I'm um, standing in your…. apartment I guess you'd call it, and uh, honestly I have no idea what to do here man. But, I have a sold out concert in two days and I kinda need my body back to go perform. No offense, I'm sure you're really nice and talented and all, but I, just..” the voice trailed off, he could hear the nerves in his own voice.

“Yeah, uh, not hallucinating. And I'd prefer to give you your body back too. It's a nice body and all, but I am so not equipped to be a metal singer man, I can barely listen to it without getting migraines. Tell you what, are you in Indy? I haven't left your…home? Yet or anything, actually I haven't even found where you have your clothes at, and I'd prefer to have some semblance of clothes on. But maybe you could come to where you live and we can talk?”

“Yeah, yep, that uh, that sounds good. You fell asleep in jeans and tee so I'll just come by in this, and oh your keys were in your pocket. Cool, what kinda car do I look for?”

“It's a small white car just outside the coffee shop downstairs. If anyone tries to stop you just say you have a family emergency and will call them later.”

“Sounds good, uh if they try to stop me what name do I answer to if called?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Steve, my name is Steve. “

“Sounds good Stevie, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Steve hung up the phone when the dial tone started and looked around, he noticed a door painted black with a red dragon and decided to open it, he was greeted by an immense collection of black clothes and pulled out the first things he saw, on the table next to it there was a dish with some scrunchies and hair ties, he chose a silk one to tie up the curls after finger combing them carefully. Once he was done with that he made his way downstairs wandering until he found the front door, a small bench sat next to it with boots and other shoes lined up carefully and he sat, waiting.

Before he knew it a knock came to the front door and he opened it to see his own face looking at him wide eyed.

“This is real then.” He watched his mouth say, he nodded and swallowed.

“Hi, Eddie. I want so badly to say it's nice to meet you, but uh, every time I've thought about meeting you it was more running into you, or maybe going to a concert with my ear protection but having the backstage passes to meet the band, flirting and then…well. Anyway, ahem, why don't uh you show me where your coffee is and we can brainstorm how to change us back?”

Eddie led him into the kitchen and he sat on a bar stool while he flitted around making them some coffee. They started talking, it lasted for hours and finally Eddie looked at him for a moment, and then took a deep breath.

“Okay, I want to try something, and if it doesn't work please don't punch me.” He began, and leaned over to pull Steve into a kiss who immediately saw stars behind his eyelids and melted into the embrace. Either this kiss was world shattering, or the cosmos conspired to find Steve a boyfriend. Eventually they pulled apart both panting and slowly opened their eyes. Steve found himself looking at the rockstar now and giggled.

“It worked.” He whispered. “You're you again, and I'm me.”

“That it did sweetheart. I know this seems fast, but do you want to maybe go on a date with me? I don't think I'm going to forget you anytime soon.”

“I'll go on all the dates with you Eddie Munson.” And Steve pulled him back into a sweet passionate kiss.

They would spend the next weeks and months getting to know each other, but they felt as though they'd known each other in every life, for eons. Fate brought them together and they fell hopelessly, emphatically in love.