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cjlouwho · 2 days ago
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Twelve Christmases
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Read below or on ao3. You can also start from the beginning here.
Day 12: 2031
“What are you doing?”
“Shh!” Tommy waved his hand dramatically as he took a very slow, very precise step. “You're going to wake her up, Evan.”
“She's been out like a light for an hour,” Buck reminded him with a smile, “and I've got music playing in her room. So, what are you doing?”
Tommy lifted a foot, showing Buck the bottom of a black, rubber boot. “A little water and flour,” he explained. “I'm making Santa's footprints.”
Buck crossed his arms, leaning against the living room entryway. “It's sixty degrees outside. Where is this snow coming from?”
Tommy sighed. “It's magic."
“You know that's gonna be a nightmare to clean up tomorrow once it dries.”
“It'll be fine.”
“I'll remind you of that when you're scrubbing.”
“I need more,” Tommy said, ignoring Buck's comments as he stood still as a statue in the middle of the living room. “I have a spray bottle in the kitchen, and a plate with flour on it. Bring it to me, please?”
Buck shook his head, but went and got what Tommy needed. “Please tell me you're not stepping your feet into our good dishes,” he whined on his way back, setting the plate on the ground.
“They're new boots. We'll throw it in the dishwasher. Stay down there, spray my shoes.”
“Is this some new type of fetish for you? I know we're not supposed to judge, but...”
“Evan.”
“Okay, okay, I'm spraying.”
After each foot was sprayed and floured again, Tommy resumed his walk until he reached the front door.
“Seems wrong to not have Santa going up a chimney,” Buck said as Tommy carefully took off his boots.
“We don't have a chimney.”
“I could get a photo of Chimney and tape it to the door.”
“I know you're joking,” Tommy said, stepping closer to Buck, “but if you do that I might start committing violent crimes.”
Buck reached out and felt over Tommy's shirt. “You'd look hot in orange,” he decided as he leaned in for a kiss.
“Wait.” Tommy stopped him right before their lips met. He looked down between them, pointing at Buck's foot. “You're dangerously close to stepping on Santa's footprint.”
The moment ruined, Buck patted Tommy's chest. “I'm gonna bring out her presents.”
“I'm going to put these boots in three garbage bags, wash them when she goes to Maddie's on Friday, and give them to George at work on Saturday.”
“Why are you giving George your boots?”
“What do I need giant, black, rubber boots for?”
“Well, why does George need giant, black, rubber boots?”
“Are we really doing this right now, Evan?”
Buck rolled his eyes, raising his hands in surrender. “Getting the presents now.”
“Watch out for the footprints!” Tommy whisper-yelled as Buck headed down the hall.
Buck's only response was a low groan.
*****
The third time Tommy checked the time it was 4:45. He turned from one side to the other, wrapping his arm around Buck's waist.
“You're supposed to be sleeping,” Buck grumbled.
“Sorry.” Tommy pressed a kiss between Buck's shoulder blades. “I'm excited.”
“Really? Couldn't tell.”
Buck stretched out his legs, then turned over to face Tommy. “You know she's gonna be going nonstop once she wakes up. This is your last chance for rest.”
“She's been wanting that bike for months, Evan. And she already knows how to ride without training wheels. Can you believe that?”
“I can.” Buck brought a hand to Tommy's face, gently stroking his cheek. “You taught her well.”
“You ate the cookies, right?” Tommy asked, and Buck couldn't help but grin at him. He looked like such a child, wide eyed and ready to take on the day.
“I ate the cookies.”
“And the milk?”
“I drank the milk.”
“You think the note was okay?” Tommy asked. “It wasn't too wordy, was it?”
“Tommy,” Buck inched forward, pressing his lips against Tommy's. “Her Christmas will be perfect. You've made sure of that.”
“We've made sure of that,” Tommy corrected, giving him another kiss.
Buck ran his hand down Tommy's arm until he intertwined their hands, squeezing tight. “You okay?” he asked. “I know you're excited, but I- I also know Christmas has a lot of not-so-great memories for you.”
That was an understatement if there ever was one. Christmas of 2025 was one of the best for Tommy. Spent with Evan, his family, and the rest of the 118, the entire day was something out of a storybook. It was overwhelming and, once they got home, Tommy found himself sobbing in the bathroom. When Buck found him, Tommy ended up spilling his guts on every past Christmas.
By the time they were done, Buck promised that if he never wanted to celebrate the holiday again, he wouldn't have to.
But Tommy did. It's all he ever wanted, and he had it now, and it was good and terrifying and a lot to wrap his head around.
Then, they got their daughter, and Christmas had been taken up a notch every year since then. Buck always figured he'd be the one to dive head first into holidays, but Tommy quickly took the reigns, and Buck loved every second of it.
“I'm okay,” Tommy assured him.
“You'll come to me later if you get not okay?”
Tommy nodded. “Promise,” he said, wrapping his and Buck's pinkies together.
Buck scooted in as close as he could, closing his eyes as he entangled their bodies.
Just as Tommy thought he might be able to fall back to sleep, he heard the familiar patter of little feet heading toward their door.
“Get ready,” Buck mumbled against his chest.
The door flung open. “Daddy! Papa! Christmas!” She came running to the bed, jumping right on top of her dads.
“Whoa!” Tommy exclaimed, the both of them scooting back to give her space between them. “It's Christmas?!” he questioned.
“Mhm!”
“Are you sure about that?” Buck asked, cocking his eyebrow.
“I'm sure! Presents, please!” She grabbed both of their hands and began tugging. “Please, please, please!”
*****
Tommy got tears in his eyes as he watched his babygirl squeal when she saw Santa's footprints. He became even more misty when Buck helped her read the letter Santa left her. By the time she was tearing open her presents and screaming at the sight of her new bike, Buck had to put a hand on his back and gently rub up and down, soothing him so he wouldn't break down into full sobs right in front of their daughter.
He never tried to hide his emotions from her, but he also knew she wouldn't really understand her dad hyperventilating with happiness because he loved her so much.
“Can I go ride it?!” she asked, already snapping her helmet on her head.
“The sun's not even up yet,” Buck joked, but he knew he wouldn't win this fight. Tommy was already standing, quickly throwing the wrapping paper into a giant trash bag so they could go.
“Please, Daddy!” she begged, her bottom lip poking out.
He laughed. “I bet Papa is willing to take the first bike shift while I get breakfast ready, aren't you?” he asked, looking up at Tommy with a grin.
“Oh, absolutely!” he answered. “Go put on your shoes and grab a jacket, then we'll go.”
As she ran out of the room, Buck stood, wrapping his arms around Tommy. “Breakfast will take about an hour,” he said as Tommy pressed a kiss to his temple. “That enough time?”
Tommy rested his hands at Buck's lower back. “Yup. I'll take her back out after.”
Buck leaned back enough to look into Tommy's eyes. “You still good?”
Tommy nodded. “I'm great, Evan.”
*****
“Alright." Tommy clapped his hands together after making the final adjustments on her helmet. “You got this?”
“I got this!” she yelled, smiling brightly.
She got ready to take off, but stopped suddenly, leaning over and squeezing her arms around Tommy's waist the best she could.
“Oh!” he breathed out in surprise. He squatted down so he could give her a better hug. “What's this for?” he asked.
“For being the bestest papa ever and ever!”
She gave him a smack of a kiss on the cheek and let go, pushing herself forward and taking off on the bike.
Tommy wiped the tears from his face and started to jog behind her, his heart feeling more full than he ever thought possible.
One day, this would all be a distant memory to her. She may only remember bits and pieces, but she would hold in her heart the way her parents made Christmas as perfect as possible.
And whether she chooses to have a family of her own, or spend the holiday with friends that become family, she will pass the traditions on and Christmas will continue to hold a special place in her heart. Filled with good memories of endless laughter and unconditional love.
Juniper Buckley-Kinard was five years old when her Papa unwittingly taught her that sometimes good things last forever.
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chameleon8 · 3 days ago
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Last song: Tale as Old As Time - Lydia The Bard. It’s basically Belle’s villain song, and one of my favorites of her music
Favorite color: I like all colors, mainly cause I know how to make any two colors look good together. My favorite color combos are ectoplasmic green and dark purple, light yellow and dark purple, and light yellow to pink to dark purple. I use a lot of dark purple
Last book: A tale of witchcraft. I just need to read the last book in the Tale Of Magic series before I can finally go on the tlos tag without being spoiled
Last show: Stranger things. I’m on my 3rd rewatch. I’ve watched almost every animated show on Netflix twice, so now I’m watching this until something new pops up on my recommended.
Last movie: last full movie I watched was probably Wicked. It was really cool! Would recommend.
Sweet/spicy/savory: depends. I just had something spicy so I would go sweet right now
Last thing i googled: "It might seem crazy what I’m ‘bout to say" (I needed a reaction photo) Relationship status: Single. But I have a very serious relationship with this book series called All Of Us Villains. It’s really cool, and I would recommend it.
Current obsession(s): fablehaven (mainly my fanfic rn because I love it. I’m finally onto editing this long chapter (ch 26) so once that’s done I can post it.), my comic: Lunar Falling, Voltron (because when am I not obsessed with Voltron), The Land Of Stories (and A Tale Of Magic), Fortnite (I was bored and now I can’t stop), Epic: The musical, hadestown, and whatever my mutuals are liking that winds up on my recommended. Well shit I was gonna tag Lee but that’s who I reblogged this from. Anyone who follows me who reads this may reblog with their own interests and stuff (no pressure tho)
10 people I’d like to get to know better
Tagged by @strix-x thank youuu :)
Last song: Calisto Yew’s theme from Ace Attorney Investigations 1. Listening to it as I type this, lol. From my Spotify Wrapped 2024 playlist :)
Favourite colour: don’t do this to me… many colours are beautiful… green, blue, pink, purple… thank you…
Last book: Still something I’ve gotta work on is reading more books. Last one I read was the Doctor Who Rogue novelization! That was enjoyable, I liked the extra scenes and backstory it added :)
Last movie: Uhhh hmm I don’t see movies all that often… I’m unsure, but by tomorrow the answer will be Wicked?
Last show: Dandadan season 1 finale… which, tbh, I hadn’t realized was the season finale until after I watched the episode lol! Very looking forward to season 2 tho :D
Sweet/spicy/savoury: Hmm probably savoury? Sweet is also good, tho I think there is definitely a thing as too sweet… and as for spicy? I like some spicy stuff even tho it may burn my mouth after loll
Relationship status: single as can be 😽✌️ alas
Last thing I googled: movie theatre tickets lol
Current obsession(s): Dandadan beloved omg… I haven’t watched a lot of anime, but I’m starting to! Grateful netflix recommended this to me lol, it’s so. It’s got everything you could ask for. Wacky, funny, has a lot of heart with the characters… great music… and maybe I’m a little bit of a sucker for high school students getting pulled into crazy adventures. Momo and Okarun are so cute too… sillies <3
Fire Emblem Heroes isn’t going anywhere for me… with Book 9 having a law theme, it excellently combines with my love for Ace Attorney, and I love Rune already!!
Then ofc Ace Attorney… had a blast playing the Investigations Collection, and I’m continuing to catch up (the timing is almost never right for me to watch live) on Mark Ota’s streams of TGAAC, which are always a ton of fun :D
Then I am also trying to now and then write stuff for my own ocs too… I don’t talk about them enough… but I love them very much, please do know <3 Maybe I show a bit of favouritism for Willow and Pyg, but hey, they are the main characters :3
People to tag: ack my least favourite part, I always fear I’ll forget someone!
@rosymaraschino (I want to return the favour, I appreciate it whenever you tag me in one of these kinds of things! :) )
@ actually anyone else, my mind is blank </3
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helloheyhihowdyheya · 2 days ago
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Christmas with Carmy | Headcanons
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Carmy Berzatto x reader
Masterlist
Just a few thoughts on spending Christmas with Carmy. He deserves a soft Christmas. Happy holidays everyone! 🎄☃️ Stay safe :)
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What a Christmas with Carmy would look like:
You would try your hardest to get you and Carmy out of going to his family’s Christmas dinner. Without Mikey there, and after the infamous seven fishes fight you’d heard about, you knew the dinner would be hard on Carmy. 
If you had to go, you wouldn’t leave Carmy’s side for a second. You’d hold his fidgeting fingers or rest a hand on his bouncing leg, run your palm along his back. And you’d leave once the dinner was over, instead returning to your quiet and safe home.
Carmy might resist, but you would insist on hosting a holiday dinner for your close friends — inviting everyone from Syd to Richie to Ebraheim. It’d be a potluck dinner so you and Carmy (mostly Carmy) didn’t have to stress over providing all the food for everyone. The table would be cramped, but the food and company would be good. It’d be filled with laughter and reminiscing rather than fighting. You’d both create a new holiday tradition. It’d be yours, and it’d be safe. Happy.
You’d bake him and the staff holiday desserts. You’d ask him and Marcus for tips on adding more of this or that. Carmy would stand in the kitchen — you insisted he was necessary to the process for morale and quality assurance testing. But even if you didn’t insist, he’d spend hours leaning against the wall watching you float around the kitchen covered in flour. When it’d be too long without a break, he’d rest his hands on your hips and pull you in close. He’d press his lips to yours, kissing you until you’d stop him — usually to quickly check on the dessert.
Carmy would show you the best goddamn hot chocolate recipe you’ve ever tasted. But soon after, he feared he made a monster because you constantly asked him to make it for you — “it tastes better when you make it,” you’d plead. And who was he to deny you?
On cold nights, you’d happily use Carmy’s constant body heat to warm up. He seemed a little less happy about it, a sharp intake of breath at your cold hands pressed against his skin. But he wouldn’t complain too long because he’d be perfectly content having you against him all the time.
You'd make him get matching sweaters with you. He'd shake his head at it, but secretly, you knew he liked showing the world that you two were together.
You would go holiday shopping with Syd during her few free moments, trying to pick out just the right gifts for your loved ones. Part of your gift to Carmy would be something to help him relax — a spa or massage or day off — anything to help him unclench and realize that he didn’t have to be in fight or flight mode all the time. 
And the other part would test your crafting skills. You didn’t particularly care that your gift was cheesy, since you weren’t sure he’d ever gotten a homemade present before — something that showed you put in the work to show that you loved him. So you made him a scrapbook of the past year, one that was imperfect but meaningful. And the many nights you spent making it while he was working late became worth it when he opened it Christmas morning. It sat beneath a tiny tree you set up in your shared apartment, illuminated by the string lights you’d both hung up. As Carmy flipped through the scrapbook pages, his eyes roving over every inch of the photos and words you put on them, he smiled. He’d let out an occasional laugh, remembering different things that’d happened in the past year. 
“How’d you even get a picture of the knife in Richie’s ass?”
By the end, he let out a sort of a disbelieving sigh. As if he couldn’t understand that you would put the time and effort into something like this — all for him. But you’d hold him, press your lips to his. You’d try to tell him with each kiss that he was worth it, and he always would be.
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pennumbra · 7 months ago
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Pin update from me and @xannerz- here's the most recent picture from our manufacturer!! We're finalizing a couple more potential details, but otherwise we're very happy with this and it's been exciting. 💖✨
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violaextract · 1 year ago
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MAJOR SPOILERS FOR PRIME DEFENDERS S2 EP39
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this episode went crazy, and he only had to die again to figure himself out
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northernpintail · 8 months ago
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Last night :)
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mental-breakdown-machine · 1 year ago
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GUESS WHO I SEEN LAST NIGHT!!!!!
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eviesdaily · 2 years ago
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Did some sketches of Luz...
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I just can't believe it's over...
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sirfrogsworth · 5 months ago
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I think in this new age of A.I. the general public is going to need to increase their photography and lighting literacy. The response to this photo has just been a shit show.
There are people pointing out perfectly normal edge lighting and misunderstanding how reflections work.
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First the plane is parked at an angle. The tail is farther back than the nose. But also that is a curved surface and it tapers. It's reflecting the area to the right of the photo.
And the bottom of the plane is reflecting what is directly underneath. Which is the tarmac, not the crowd.
It should also be noted that photo was shot with a very telephoto lens and everything is super compressed. The crowd appears much closer to the airplane than they actually are.
But then someone who should have good understanding of lighting said this...
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And now I'm worried for her clients. Because that's very... wrong.
Well, wrong-ish.
First, let's try to understand why this photo is setting off some alarm bells.
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The crowd toward the rear is in shadow, but they are still very well exposed. But then there is also a bright light source creating a strong edge light on them. Looking at this photo with just the context of what is in it, there are some things that seem uncanny.
The information we do not have is the people in the shadow area are inside a very brightly lit airplane hangar.
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So they have artificial light blasting them from the top.
But that light is still much dimmer than the sunlit areas outside so they appear in shade. But we are used to shade being much darker than areas in direct sun. So the balance seems off in our brain. We expect the people to be darker because we don't have the context of the bright hangar lights above them.
But the other issue is that the photo was post processed. It wasn't manipulated. The pixels weren't changed. But the exposure balance was altered.
If I were to guess, the original photo looked more like this...
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But newer digital cameras can have 13 to 15 stops of dynamic range. And if you shoot in RAW, you can easily lift shadows and bring down highlights. You can balance the exposure so the dark parts aren't as dark and the bright parts aren't as bright. This photographer might have overdone it a bit in this case, but this is a fairly standard edit used to bring balance to photos.
And lastly, where does the edge light come from?
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Edge lighting or backlighting or rim lighting (all the same) should probably be called wrap-around lighting if you want to be more accurate.
It comes from a homogenous light source that is larger than the subject being lit. So with my knife photo, I placed it on a large LED panel light.
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The light source was bigger than the subject so it wrapped around the edges.
And I'm afraid the airplane is not nearly large enough to create a light source to wrap around everyone in the crowd. It isn't even reflecting direct sunlight. So I'm sorry to say that lighting designer was mostly mistaken despite the confidence.
The light source is... everything.
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That entire red area I highlighted is the light source.
As well as everything above and everything to the sides.
And the biggest aspect of that light source would be the sky above. I think people always forget the sky is a light source. If you are seeing blue, you are seeing light. And I guess the plane is included in that, but that entire highlighted red area is so bright, and so filled with sunlight bouncing around, that it creates basically a giant softbox. It becomes a huge single light source for the people in the hangar.
If you look at footage taken from way inside the hangar, you can see the camera adjusting exposure for the crowd inside, but look at what happens to the sunlit area outside.
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What does that look like?
A giant softbox.
A single homogenous light source blasting light inside the hangar.
The sun is so incredibly bright that even when it is not directly lighting something, the light just bouncing around outside is enough to overpower the very bright hangar lights.
So, what have we learned from this?
Perhaps people should hire me to be their lighting designer.
Though I'm sure she is actually very talented. She seems to work with stage lights and this is more physics and photography.
Phystography.
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neofelis----nebulosa · 1 year ago
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When you suddenly realize your polarization filter for your camera lens is just straight up broken
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vampiefemme · 28 days ago
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modern!vi who’s down horrendous for you. she gets home from the gym, sweat-damp and sore, ready for a much-needed shower after hitting a new pr and kicking her own ass during her workout. she’s undressing in the foggy bathroom when her phone pings from the counter, your name lighting up the screen. she tosses her shirt to the side and unlocks the phone to see your message.
missing you sooo bad right now, you’ve texted her. attached is a photo of you, shirtless, with your perfectly manicured nails delicately cupping your tits. might have to touch myself… help me out?
vi scoffs at your message, but she clicks on that photo again, zooms in and analyzes it until she’s sure she’s memorized every individual pixel.
fuck, you’re perfect. fuck fuck fuck.
steam from the shower has fogged up the mirror entirely, and it’s deathly humid in the bathroom. but vi’s got a soft spot for you - she’d do anything you asked her to, even if your version of asking is merely suggesting… no, bribing. that photo was definitely a bribe.
vi messes around with a few potential angles, propping her phone up on the counter, then on the floor, even on the back of the toilet. nothing looks right, and she’s so sweaty and frustrated that she almost decides not to send you anything at all. she rips open the shower curtain, huffing an annoyed sigh before her eyes land on the shower head.
huh, that’s an idea.
fifteen minutes later, as you’re lazily dragging your fingers through your cunt, horny and annoyed that vi hasn’t texted you back, you get a notification. it’s a video, you realize with a giddy whir of excitement, and you click play without a second thought. one hand cradling your phone, the other between your thighs, you watch as vi settles the camera down on a shelf by the window. her scarlet locks are damp with sweat, droplets of water from the shower rolling down her inked skin. fuck, you’ll never get used to that body - she’s all lean muscles and sharp edges, so dangerous until she’s holding you with those calloused hands and curling her frame up against yours.
and now? she’s biting her lip, trying to make a show of trailing a hand down her abdomen - she stops short, though, reaching off to the side instead. her hand returns with the running shower head, and you draw in a sharp, excited breath. as if she could hear you, vi lets out a little chuckle and says, “i know, unexpected. i haven’t done this in years.”
she fiddles with the shower head, flicking a switch at the neck until the water flow changes to a more… optimal setting. the stream’s a lot more focused now, more intense.
“worked myself up a bit before this. hope that’s okay, princess.” vi flashes a smirk at the camera, but with her cheeks painted that pretty pink shade, you know she’s a little embarrassed. uncertain.
you’re grateful that the camera angle lets you see every detail of what vi’s doing - how her body moves. she hitches a leg up against the shower wall, just high enough to spread herself open. the soft curls between her legs are untamed and wet, and your cunt twitches at the sight of vi’s pink, pink cunt, spread beautifully - you only get one glance, though, before the silver shower head blocks your view. vi hisses through her teeth and her hips twitch. you sigh, your fingers playing in the wetness between your legs as you watch vi toss her head back in pleasure. every moan that passes her lips goes straight to your clit - you’re needy, gushing wetter every time you see vi’s tits bounce or her jaw clench.
“fuuuuck,” she cries out, her face a vision of pleasure. mouth hung open, brows knitted together, eyes foggy with lust. “gonna come, shit, baby…”
water drips from vi’s hair down to her shoulders, rolling in beads down her tense chest. she’s heaving, panting, gasping your name as her orgasm slams into her, tatted biceps flexing as she forces the shower head to stay in place. her orgasm seems to last forever, streams of water gushing from her pussy down to the shower floor - and then she’s done, spent.
it’s almost like vi forgets about the camera for a moment. she hums in pleasure, still panting a bit as she comes back down from her high. she licks her lips, then her eyes meet the camera - and oh, she looks wrecked.
“hope that’s enough material for you, pretty girl,” she says to the camera, winking playfully before the video cuts out.
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motorsportbarbie13 · 1 month ago
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The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 3
In which you and Max spend the next six months just being obsessed with each other.
Warnings: A little angst, but not 'break up with you' angst, just 'i really fucking miss you' angst so it's okay. And fluff. Tooth achingly sweet fluff. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 4.4k plus a shit ton of social media posts. - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - Master List
(a/n before we begin: Probably one more part to this. Thinking of doing an 'after Max gets you back to the hotel post-race' part to wrap things up nicely if anyone wants to see that.)
Monaco May 2024
F1GossipOfficial posted
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34,028 likes F1GossipOfficial Seems as if our favorite Red Bull driver and sunny little podcaster are getting closer! The pair was spotted around Monaco this week ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. The pair have been seen publicly a handful of times since Max made an appearance on her podcast The Yapping Hour in late April, most notably at the Miami Grand Prix at the beginning of the month and then the week later in New York City where she is based. Everyone who sent in photos said the pair were super cozy and seemed lost in their own world. user0299 she's only with him for the clout and money. Her little podcast was dying out and she latched onto Max like a leech. >>>user5572 go touch some grass my man. Her podcast is consistently the number 1 listened to show on all platforms all the fucking time. user9938 they are so cute, i can't handle it user4530 I saw them at dinner the other night and oh my GOD. They sat on the same side of the table even though it was just the two of them. He held her hand underneath the table all through dinner and I don't think either of them stopped smiling or looked anywhere else but at each other the entire night. >>>user39948 they are so fucking perfect oml
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Canada June 2024 yourpersonalinsta posted
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493,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, totowolff, and others yourpersonalinsta Over the moon to have been able to be with you for this win in Canada, Maxie. user299 MAXIE?! I have no one to talk to about this redbullracing our good luck charm strikes again! >>>user456 Red Bull calling her theirs??? Love this for her. maxverstsppen1 thank you for always being in my corner liefje ❤️ >>>user394 how am i supposed to be normal after reading this??? user8827 Not Toto in the likes trying to get on her good side so Max signs with Merc in 2026 >>>user778 HAHA can you imagine??
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Amalfi Coast August 2024
maxverstappen1 posted
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987,409 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1 summer break with this gorgeous girl user458 they are my royal couple yourpersonalinsta wishing we were back on that boat rn instead of on different continents :( >>>maxverstappen1 just a few more weeks until Singapore, schatje. >>>user4938 this is my roman empire >>>user024 mom and dad are sad so i am sad too
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October 2024 Austin, Texas
You hadn't seen Max in over three weeks. Three very, very, very long weeks. And not to be dramatic or anything but you felt like you might actually pass away if the Uber that was currently picking it's way through very heavy Austin traffic drove any slower.
While the sleek Mercedes SUV waited at a red light, your gaze drifted away from the navigation system showing the the heavy traffic all around you towards the busy city streets around you. Whoever had decided to schedule an Eminem concert, a huge college rivalry football game, and a Formula 1 race all in the same city on the same weekend should have their head examined.
Fixated on the crowd on the sidewalk outside, you mull over the last six months of your life. It has certainly been a whirlwind, that was for sure. If someone had told you back in the beginning of May that you'd be on your way to your sixth Grand Prix of the year to watch your boyfriend race in Formula 1, you would have laughed in their faces. Because really, when you sat back and considered it, the fact that you had gone from being a fan of the sport and interviewing Max on a professional level to dating him in under six months was absolutely wild.
While you attended races whenever you could, you found yourself more often than not called to the other side of the world to attend to your flourishing career. In the last six months you had ping ponged around the globe, bouncing between weekends with Max and over scheduled weeks filled with work, interviews, and meetings. Some days you just wished that things were simpler and you could just dedicate yourself to following Max around from city to city but you knew that Susan B Anthony would roll over in her grave if you gave up everything for a man so quickly, even a man as amazing as Max Verstappen.
You brush aside the thought of leaving your work because in the end, all that is is a simple fantasy brought on by you missing the man that has become the center of your universe lately.
After attending the Singapore GP with Max, you had spent a few extra days with him in Asia before needing to fly home. While Max did have nearly an entire month break from racing, he couldn't follow you to New York like he had intended. After coming back from the summer break, Max's luck had started to slip and the car had deteriorated. He hadn't won a race in months, the car was an absolute tractor, and Lando was gaining on him in the Championship. He had needed to spend every extra moment he had in the sims and with the engineering team trying to salvage the season.
While Max had been in Europe, you had been in the US recording episodes with Heidi Klum, Wayne Gretzky, and finally Kylie Kelce. Heidi had been in LA, Wayne in Florida, and Kylie in Philly so you had spent most of the last three weeks on the road. As the SUV inched closer to the COTA track, you realized you couldn't remember the last time you'd set foot in your apartment.
Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the realization washes over you. You loved the life you lived, wouldn't trade it for the world but sometimes, in these quiet moments you wished for a break, a chance to go home, wherever that even was now, and just rest.
Your phone buzzing beside you pulls you back to the present. Ysou struggle to shake off the mind numbing melancholy that's settled over you like a thick woolen blanket before answering the call. "Hi baby." You sigh, knowing who it is without even looking at the caller ID.
"What's wrong?" Max's voice is sharp on the other end, effortlessly reading your tone.
You shake your head, chest tightening with anxiety. "Just..." You search for the right words. "tired is all. I just realized I can't even remember the last time I spent a night in my own bed."
"Oh, schatje." Max sighs, knowing how grueling this schedule is as he lives it as well. "Do you want me to have the jet take you home? It's at the airfield still."
Tears collect in your eyes as your chest squeezes painfully. "No, I just want to see you." You whisper, afraid if you raise your voice you'll start to cry.
"How far are you from the track?"
You pop your head around the SUV's headrest to check the nav system. "Not long. Five minutes. I can see the giant observation tower from here."
"Have the Uber bring you right to the paddock gates. I have a car here and a few hours before any media duties. I'll take you back to the hotel myself and we can take a nap together, okay?"
Your entire body sags with relief at his words. If there was one thing that Max was good at, it was taking care of you. He didn't hem and haw or waver on a plan of action. He saw what you needed and made sure that you were taken care of. The way the burden of everything that you had silently carried for years shifted towards Max the moment you landed in Miami all those months ago was something that would shock you for years to come.
"Okay." You whisper, swiping at a single tear that managed to escape.
You have a few moments to collect yourself before the Uber stops at the entrance to the paddock. From your seat in the back, you spot a familiar blonde head that belonged to your Dutch boyfriend waiting for you. You're suddenly simultaneously bursting with excitement and beside yourself with grief as the anxiety that has gnawed at you over the last 24 hours fully consumes you at the mere sight of Max.
Max has you out of the car and into his arms before you can barely catch your breath. The moment you inhale that uniquely Max scent something inside you shifts and becomes crystal clear. You didn't need Max to have his jet take you home because you already were home. It sounded cliche in your head and it probably was, but you knew there was some truth to it: somewhere over the last six months your home had shifted away from your apartment in New York to wherever Max was.
Max tightens his grip around your waist, settling his chin on your head while you stay buried deep in his neck, you realize that home isn't a place any longer. Home is a person now and Max is that person. You don't have to go home to New York to rest, you just have to be in Max's presence. With him, you are utterly and completely safe and secure. For someone who spends 99% of her time 'on' and performing, being able to come home to Max and just switch it all off, allowing him to lead and take over, is the most powerful form of rest you could have ever dreamt of.
Max nods at the driver as he unloads your luggage, arms still locked tight around you. He can feel you melt into him, like you've been waiting for this moment since the last time you saw him. He knows that for him at least, this is true. Everything else in his life is completley falling apart. The car sucks, they had to ditch the special livery for this weekend becuase the fucking paint had the potential to make the car too heavy and slow. Lando has been on a tear lately, that McLaren a complete rocket ship and the only reason Lando hasn't overtaken him in the championship is thanks to some spectacularly shitty calls from the McLaren pit wall.
The only bright spot in Max's day is you. Your voice, your touch, your face. Any bit of you he gets on a daily basis is what keeps him going right now. As he had stood on the curb just moments before, desperately and not so patiently waiting while watching the black Mercedes SUV creep down the street towards him, it had felt like cruel and unusual punishment after being apart from you for so long.
And now? Now you were back in his arms and he drew in the longest breath he could, taking in the scent of your perfume and laundry soap that he had missed so keenly while he'd been working, and he simply couldn't get enough.
Max pulls away slightly, so he can see your pretty face but what he sees in your eyes nearly breaks him. Pain and longing hang heavy in your eyes and there is nothing Max wouldn't do to make all of that go away for you. Fingers tip your chin up towards him so he can finally get his lips on yours, a soft sigh escaping your mouth when he makes that first contact.
You swear it's like a cool drink of water in the middle of a humid heatwave in July, the way Max kisses you with such relief and passion and affection. Like he's trying to tell you through his kiss how much he adores you, how much he's missed you, how much he craves you.
"I love you." Are the first words he says to you and your breath catches in your throat. It isn't the first time he's said those words, Max had said them first all those months back when he brought you home to Monaco. It had been quick, probably too quick by the world's standards, but it just clicked between the two of you and the words had tumbled out of Max like it was the most natural thing in the world. The reason the words had your breath catching in your chest was because of the ferocity behind them, like he could tell how bone tired you were from all the travel over the last few months and he was desperate to remind you why you were doing all of this. Why the two of you were doing all of this together and apart. It was for moments like this, moments where you were attached to each other in the middle of the busy paddock parking lot like no one else existed.
"I love you too, Max." You whisper, dusting your lips over the stubble that was scattered over his jaw. "Can we go take a nap now? I'm so tired."
yourpersonalinsta posted
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348,209 likes liked by kyliekelce, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta home is wherever you are (tagged: maxverstappen1) user098 mad max is no more, there is only soft cuddly boyfie max user0399 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen user000 god i am so single maxverstappen1 love you baby >>>danielricciardo SIMP >>>maxverstappen1 absolutely >>>user9938 it kills me that he is loves her so boldly and loudly. girl hit the mfing jackpot. (liked by author)
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It's not your alarm that fully wakes you up on Friday morning. It isn't Max's either. But as you try to untangle your limbs from Max's and search for the source of the ringing, you can't help but curse whoever is interrupting the slow sleepy cuddles that had been progressing into something more heated for the past 20 minutes.
You nearly spit you're so mad when you see the caller ID.
"John." You growl, sitting up in bed as Max settles himself back against the mountain of pillows beside you. "It is 8 in the morning on a Friday the day after I saw my boyfriend for the first time in over three weeks. I swear on all things good and holy, this had better be good."
John, to his credit, didn't even scoff at the threat. He'd been your business manager for going on four years now and was used to your early morning attitudes.
"She said yes."
You sit up, back going ramrod straight as the three words clang through you. "What?" You hiss.
Beside you, Max struggles to sit up too, alarm coursing through him at the panic in your voice.
"Tree just called me five minutes ago. Said that Kylie had sent her the episode and wouldn't stop gushing about how amazing you were and how you were the perfect person to do this interview on the end of the tour and everything. Tree said Taylor watched your episode with Michelle and Queen Maxima too, said they were the best interviews she's ever seen. Everything is a go."
Your entire world tilts as what John is telling you fully sinks in. "Taylor Swift's agreed to come on the show?" You voice is weak, heavy under the weight of the news John is telling you. Your hands tremble at the thought of what this means for you. For your career.
Beside you, Max sucks in a breath at your sentence, fully aware of how big of a moment this is for you. Pride soars through him as he watches literal sunshine dance across your face, your smile as bright as the Texas morning light. "Schatje." He whispers, pulling your free hand towards his lips. Your eyes dart over to him and you grin at him, kicking your feet a little, completely unable to hide your excitement.
"She also said yes to your suggestion of a behind the scenes vlog on your channel ahead of the release of the episode. Thought the idea was marketing gold. You've got full access to everything for the entire week."
Before you had landed Kylie Kelce on the show, you and John had made a silly, pie in the sky request to Tree Paine not even thinking that it would go anywhere. When Kylie had agreed to do an episode, a request that had actually been made to her people months before John had contacted Tree, the idea of maybe, just maybe you might be able to land Taylor after had grown a bit. You hadn't told anyone of the request, not even Max, because you didn't want to be embarrassed if it didn't work out.
"There's only one problem." Your heart stops and you grip at Max's hand for support. You knew there had to be a catch. "They want you in Toronto by Sunday."
"Wh-what?" Your stomach plummets through the floor. You had just gotten to Austin last night and now you were going to have to leave again? You were supposed to spend the entire triple header with Max. Three weeks of solid time with him had been the only thing getting you through the previous three week separation. You two had even planned to go visit your parents in Michigan between Austin and Mexico later next week.
"The first concert is Monday and Tree wants you to get as much content as you can and has asked you be there at 9am Monday morning."
You head spins. "Oh-okay." There's a giant Max shaped hole in your heart at what you have to agree to, simply exhausted by the fact that you're going to have to pick up and leave again so soon. "Okay. We'll figure it out."
"Do you want me to have Shannon make flight arrangements?"
You glance over at Max, who senses your apprehension. "Let me talk through it with Max and see what we can figure out. I'll call you in a few hours, okay?"
"Sounds good. Congratulations, kiddo. This is huge."
You smile despite yourself, excitement and anxiety winding their way through your chest making it a little hard to breathe. "Bye John."
You gently place your phone back on the bedside table before turning to Max, bracing yourself for the good and bad news you have to deliver.
"The beginning of that call looked phenomenal but now you look like you're going to be sick." Max observes, pulling you into his lap.
You shudder against when his lips graze your neck, dropping a kiss to his forehead. "Taylor Swift agreed to come on the show and to let me do a weeks worth of behind the scenes of her Toronto shows."
"Baby, that is amazing. This is going to be huge for you and the show!"
You nod, a bit dazed by all of this information you have to process. "But they want me there by Sunday night so I can start first thing Monday." Sadness edges into your voice, the dread of having to leave Max again begins to sink in fully.
"When should Greg have the jet ready to take off then? You'll probably want to leave before the end of the race to beat traffic, yeah? Although I suppose we could find you a helicopter to take you from the track to the airport."
You stare at Max like he's grown three heads. His voice is so nonchalant despite him suggesting he rent you a helicopter that all you can do is blink at him for a few moments. "Just...just like that? You're on board with it? You're not upset?"
Max scoffs, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your shoulder. His arms go tighter around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. "Why would I be upset? I'll do anything I can to help you live out this dream, schatje. You know that. This is the biggest thing to happen to your career since you had F1 racing legend Max Verstappen as a guest."
The giggle that tumbles out of you has the tension in the room popping like a soap bubble. "You're ridiculous."
"And yet, you're still here." Max finds your lips then, the kiss full of reassurance and confidence. Of course he was disappointed you were going to be leaving in 2 days and he wasn't sure when you'd be back with him but this opportunity was too good to miss. "I'd never forgive myself if you missed spending a week doing what you love with one of your favorite artists because of me. Of course I'll miss you but you need to do this. So tell me, when should I have the jet ready to get you to Toronto?"
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yourpersonalinsta story post
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story replies: user8882 ARE YOU THERE FOR ERAS TOUR??? user029 what are you up to ma'am??? user837 wait. first kylie's on the show and now you're in Toronto the same week as Taylor. ARE WE GETTING A TAYLOR EPISODE OH MY GOD.
TheYappingHour posted
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876,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, alexandrasaintmleux, and others theyappinghour Toronto, you were stunning! Can anyone guess who our next guest on the show is going to be??? Behind the scenes vlog dropping next week ahead of a very very special two part episode set to drop later this month. user928 oh my god, everyone stay calm, it's happening. user020 IS THIS FOR REAL??? I will never recover maxverstappen1 so proud of you my love >>>yourpersonalinsta couldn't do it without you, maxie >>>user928 if there's one thing Max is going to be, it's the first one in the likes and comments on anything his girl does. (liked by yourpersonalinsta) >>>user0298 may this kind of love find me one day
Excerpt from Episode 59 of The Yapping Hour featuring Taylor Swift:
You: Speaking of what you do in your down time, can we talk about how supportive you are of your boyfriend and show up for him despite the Brad's and Chad's hating every second of it?
Taylor: It's so silly to me, how much everyone hates it. When I show up at the game, I'm just like every other significant other. I'm not there to take the spotlight away from anyone, I just want to watch my man play!
You: Oh my God, I totally get it. It's so strange to me the way some fans can't handle someone like you who has a whole other identity outside of who you're dating, showing up to support the person you love.
Taylor: It's like, relax! I'm just here to watch my boyfriend catch a ball!
You: Right? Just let me enjoy watching 20 cars drive around in circles in peace please!
Taylor: You two are so cute though. Trav was watching the race in Monaco a few months back, right after he invested in Alpine, and there was that one shot of you and Max after the end of the race in his garage and you were giving him a hug. I love how loudly you love him and how public he is about you. It's refreshing.
You: Oh gosh, thank you. Yes, he is so supportive of everything I do, just like Travis is. It's such a comfort, isn't it? *Taylor nods* He actually stayed in Austin an extra day so I could use his jet to come up here.
Taylor: Trav was supposed to go to that race but got caught up in training stuff. It looked like so much fun.
You: Have you ever been to a race? Either of you?
Taylor: I haven't but Travis went to the Las Vegas race last year. Said it was the one of the biggest parties he'd ever been to.
You: You'll have to come this year then! It's in a few weeks!
Taylor: I'll talk to Trav and see if we can make it happen.
TheYappingHour posted
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1,039,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, kikagomes, and others theyappinghour What an absolute whirlwind of a week and a half. Spending time with your favorite artist, seeing her in her element, and then spending a few hours talking about everything from what it's like to live such a public life to how important it is to have a supportive significant other. I simply can't wait to share the behind the scenes vlog dropping at the end of this week and then the episode later this month. Taylor, you are a dream of a human being and we are so happy to have had this opportunity. Can't wait to see you and Travis at a race! taylorswift You are such a sweetheart! So glad we got to spend time together this past week! Can't wait to hear the episode my love! kikagomes how does it feel to live my dreammmm bestie??? >>>yourpersonalinsta kiks omg i will never recover from this!! maxverstappen1 Proud of you, as always lifeje. >>>yourpersonalinsta can't wait to see you so so so soon baby
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"And he doesn't expect a thing?" You glance up at the ticket counter where the airline employee has begun to call first class. You stand, phone still pressed to your ear, pulling your carry on behind you.
"Nope!" On the other end, Max's PR manager Sophie giggles conspiratorially. "He was just complaining to GP ten minutes ago how he couldn't believe they didn't have more flights from Sao Paulo to Paris. He said he was considering upgrading his jet to one with longer range so he could fly private next time."
You roll your eyes but chuckle. If you were a drama queen, your boyfriend could be the drama king to match sometimes. Although you didn't blame him to be quite honest. After leaving Austin mid way through the race, you had missed the Mexico race entirely. The plan had been for you to fly down to Brazil for the Sao Paulo race but editing and press had taken much longer than you had anticipated so now it was Saturday night and you were boarding a 9 hour flight from New York to the South American country.
Only, Max didn't know that. Max thought you were getting on a flight to Nice via Paris before driving to Monaco where he'd meet you sometime late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. Joke was on him though, you had finished everything up and had called Sophie for help to get you down to Brazil just in time for Sunday's race.
"He's such a baby." You murmur as the flight attendant leads you to your seat.
"He is beside himself missing you." Sophie says and you can hear the smile in her voice. "Just make sure I'm around when he sees you for the firs time, okay? He's going to lose it."
Laughing, you hoist your suitcase into the overhead bin before settling down in the luxurious lie flat seat that will be your bed for the next nine hours. If everything goes right, you'll land in Brazil just as the postponed qualifying is finishing up and will be able to watch the entire race in person.
"Thank you for helping coordinate this, Soph. I really appreciate it."
"Anything to get Max out of this slump he's in!" She replies brightly.
A few minutes later, you hang up the phone and type out a quick text letting Max know you're boarding the flight. Luckily, the flight from New York to Paris is roughly the same time as the flight to Sao Paulo so he doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you'll be unreachable, only telling you that the doorman to his building is expecting you and to make yourself at home in his apartment in Monaco when you get there before he does.
************************************************************************
It is absolutely raining cats and dogs when the car Sophie hired pulls into the track after what feels like a lifetime of travel. Right after they served dinner on your flight, you took a sleeping pill and passed out for the duration of the flight, only waking up once the pilot turned on the overhead lights, signaling your arrival.
A quick text to Sophie alerts her to your arrival and she says she'll come and meet you outside the paddock with an extra umbrella. The driver that picked you up from the airport will take your luggage to the hotel where Max and the team are staying. When the car stops in front of the paddock gates, you spot Sophie immediately.
"Soph!!" You shout the moment you stumble out of the car, limbs a little stiff from the long car ride. Sao Paulo traffic is a beast in the best of weather but in a downpour like this? Nightmarish.
Sophie opens her arms to embrace you, "Oh I am so glad you're here. He is an absolute nightmare right now."
You grimace, knowing exactly why. He'd be starting P17 in a few hours. Between the team having got caught behind a red flag during Q2 and his 5 place grid penalty, it was a nightmare scenario for Max. All of this was compounded by Lando's win in the sprint yesterday and the fact that he was starting on pole today.
"Alright then, lets go. Maybe I can talk him down off a ledge before the race starts."
Sophie grins because she knows you'll be able to do just that. If there was anyone who could calm Mad Max down and bring him back to earth after the kind of morning the team had had today, it was you.
As you weave your way through the crowded paddock, the heavy rain simply not a deterrent to anyone at the track today, Max is in the garage considering the merits of scratching his eyeballs out so that he doesn't have to run this fucking race today. Everything is wrong. The car is terrible. Still. The FIA seemed to have a hard on for fucking up his weekend. Lando was on poll. And worst of all, he really fucking missed you. There was still several days between him and being reunited with you but if he could have just walked right out of the paddock and onto a plane to get to wherever you were in that moment, he would have. The only thing that seemed to settle him during these times lately was your steady presence in the garage. He didn't even need you to say anything, just knowing that you were around, within arms length if he needed you, did something to calm him like nothing else could.
He's talking to GP, actually, he's grumbling at GP when a familiar flash of hair and bright smile catches his eyes. Perfect, he thinks miserably, now I'm imagining her in the garage. I've gone full unhinged obsessed boyfriend, haven't I?
Imagine his shock when he actually hears your voice. "Max." You call out softly, hands clasped in front of you as you wait at the edge of the garage beside Sophie.
Max simply blinks a few times, as if he's trying to figure out if he's hallucinating or if you're really standing in front of him. His heart hammers in his chest when everything finally clicks into place. GP doesn't even bat an eye when Max walks away from him, mid sentence, before crossing the garage in a few short strides.
Max isn't usually one for intense public displays of affection, especailly in the garage and neither are you. There's a level of professionalism he likes to maintain while racing and you have always respected that but when Max sees you standing in front of him, practically drowning in one of his sweatshirts, hair wet and messy from walking through the paddock in the rain, he can't stop himself from scooping you up in his arms. Burying his head in your neck, he inhales deeply. So deeply that his lungs pinch with pain from the way he's trying to commit the way you smell to memory.
"You're here." He murmurs, voice thick and heavy with emotion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to meet me in Monaco?"
Max sets you down, not really wanting you out of his arms but wanting to move you to a quieter part of the garage. Behind you, Sophie, GP and the rest of the team discreetly shuffle away to give you two a bit of privacy.
"I knew how hard the last two races were for you and I just..." Pausing, you have to wait for a moment for your hands to stop shaking. You've been running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine for what feels like the last three weeks now and the emotion of the moment catches up to you. "I just wanted to be here for you."
Max lowers his lips to yours, covering them in a kiss that is all longing and white hot heat. He keeps the kiss just this side of tame enough for the garage, not wanting to draw the ire of Christian but he had needed to taste you then. His hand comes up to cup your face while the other slips around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. He's slightly damp from how wet it's been this morning but none of that matters now that you're back in his arms.
"I missed you so much." He murmurs, blue eyes practially sparkling down at you, he's so happy. It's been weeks since he's felt like this. Settled. Like he can take on the world. For the first time in what feels like forever, Max has a sense of determination that wraps itself around him. Like the championship isn't all but lost to Lando. Like the car isn't going to be terrible today, even though he might not even finish in the points. Like everything he's gone through the past few months on the track is all about to end because you're finally here and if anyone can bring the team luck, it's you.
"I love you." You whisper into his chest. "Now, let's go show the world why you're about to become a 4 time world champion, yeah?"
And that's exactly what he does.
yourpersonalinsta posted
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938,398 likes liked by redbullracing, taylorswift, yourdad and others yourpersonalinsta we are SO back, baby!!! What started out as a nightmare of a day turned into a generational drive for the history books. P17 to P1 and I cannot believe I was there to witness it. Max, I am proud of you beyond words. You and the entire team deserve this win today. I love you to the moon and back, Maxie. (tagged: maxverstappen1) taylorswift what a race! Trav and I caught most of it before the game today. Congratulations!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta hope to see you in Vegas in a couple of weeks! >>>user928 oh my god, new bestie duo unlocked!? maxverstappen1 words fail to describe how much I love you baby. Thank you for always being in my corner and never giving up on me, even when I want to give up on myself. Love you to the ends of time, schatje >>>user928 i am SOBBING. Boyfriend Max is my favorite Max.
Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99
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xhyjin · 20 days ago
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husband toji! who would try his best to spoil you, even when he’s struggling financially. you want a romantic getaway? don’t worry, because he’s already saving up, cutting corners wherever he can, just to see the joy on your face when he surprises you with the trip of your dreams.
husband toji! he isn’t the most romantic man, but he tries his best. when he notices the small smile on your face as you watch a man surprise his partner with flowers hidden behind his back, he makes a mental note. the next time he’s away on a mission that lasts too long, he shows up at your door with a slightly crumpled bouquet in hand, looking a little awkward but secretly proud when he sees your face light up.
husband toji! who loves when you fall asleep on him—not just because he enjoys running his fingers through your hair as you rest on his chest, but also because it’s the perfect opportunity to snap a picture of the two of you. with a smirk on his face in the photo, he sends it to shiu with the caption, “bet you don’t have a cutie laying on you right now.” it always earns him an immediate middle-finger reply from shiu, which only makes his grin wider.
husband toji! who never expected to find himself in this position again—so lovestruck and soft for you that it sometimes scares him. he’s torn between wanting to bare his soul to you and protect you from the weight of his past. he doesn’t know if he should tell you about his late wife and the son he left behind, afraid it might change the way you see him, but also yearning for you to understand the parts of him he’s kept hidden for so long.
husband toji! who knows it’s wrong, knows he should let you be independent, but he can’t help himself. when you think he’s at work, he’s actually following you from a distance, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re safe. the guilt of shadowing you like a stalker eats at him, but the thought of failing to protect you is even worse. so, he watches quietly, torn between trusting the world and trusting only himself to keep you safe.
husband toji! who finds himself spending money on “useless” and “childish” things like cute plushies or clothes simply because they remind him of you. he’ll grumble about it under his breath, but the moment he sees your delighted smile when he gives them to you, he knows it’s worth every penny.
husband toji! who doesn’t prepare for missions by training or strategizing beforehand, but by taking a long shower using your body wash, your shampoo, your conditioner, and your lotion—anything that smells like you. he sprays your perfume all over his body and clothes, not caring if anyone (shiu) questions why he smells so feminine and sweet. the comforting scent of you clings to him like a shield, grounding him when he’s away and reminding him of the warmth waiting for him at home.
husband toji! who secretly adores when you ask for his help with the little things. need help putting on your necklace for date night? he’s already behind you, gently moving your hair aside, his fingers brushing your skin as he clasps it on, all while staring at you lovingly through the mirror. need help opening a jar? don’t worry—he’s leaning over you in an instant, taking the jar from your delicate hands and twisting it open with ease. before you can thank him, he dips a finger into the jam, tastes it, and smirks, “almost as sweet as you,” he whispers in your ear, walking away just as he catches the sight of your flustered reflection in the marble counter.
husband toji! who sometimes forgets the strength of his own body, so he’s always extra, extra gentle with you. whether it’s holding your hand, pulling you into a hug, or brushing a strand of hair from your face, he moves with deliberate care, afraid of even the slightest chance of hurting you. his touch, though strong, always feels like the softest embrace, as if he’s protecting something he treasures more than anything.
husband toji! who picks up your hobbies just to have more in common with you, even if they’re things he never imagined himself doing—like painting, baking, or knitting. at first, he fumbles awkwardly, grumbling about how “this isn’t his thing,” but before long, he finds himself enjoying it more than he expected. the real joy, though, comes from seeing your excitement as you share these moments together, making him realize he’d try anything if it meant spending more time with you.
husband toji! who, after a gut-wrenching moment during one of his missions, realizes he doesn’t want to do it anymore. he doesn’t want to risk his life when all he wants is to spend it with you. knowing it’ll be hard to convince shiu, he brings you along under the pretense that you’re just meeting his friend. as you take a seat beside him, your face glowing with excitement at finally meeting one of his friends, toji and shiu sit across and beside you, their expressions serious as they speak in coded phrases to keep you blissfully unaware of toji’s real job. toji glances at you, his heart softening at your smile, and silently vows to make his case to shiu—because you’re his reason to walk away from it all.
husband toji! who will gladly hold your purse without hesitation when it keeps slipping off your shoulder, or carry your heels in one hand while giving you his slippers to wear, walking barefoot himself without a second thought. he doesn’t care about the stares or the inconvenience—your comfort is all that matters to him, and he’d do anything to make sure you’re at ease.
husband toji! whose favorite hobby, out of all the ones he picked up from you, is coming home to find you asleep on his side of the bed, wearing his tee and boxers, clutching his pillow to your chest. he gently removes the pillow, replacing it with himself as he slides into bed, pulling you close. with his arms around you, he kisses your forehead and whispers softly in your ear how grateful he is for you and how deeply he loves you, even if you can only hear him in your dreams.
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foxy-eva · 1 month ago
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Send Nudes
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Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 
Category: Smut
Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex
Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!
Word count: 3.2k
Masterlist
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Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 
It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 
It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 
Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 
A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 
You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 
“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 
You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 
You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 
Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 
“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 
“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 
“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 
“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 
Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 
A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.
“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 
“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.
Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 
“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 
“I’m not… offended.”
You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 
“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 
Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 
The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 
If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.
The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 
He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 
“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”
“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 
He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 
Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”
“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?
He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”
“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”
That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 
You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 
“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”
His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.
His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 
The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 
It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 
He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 
A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.
Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”
The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 
“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”
A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”
“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 
Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”
His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 
Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 
He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 
When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 
Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 
Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 
Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 
It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 
As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”
His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 
“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 
He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 
“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 
He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 
“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 
The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.
He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 
You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 
Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 
Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 
“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 
It was everything you wanted right then, too. 
“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 
His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 
He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 
Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 
“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 
Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 
You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 
“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 
He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 
There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.
“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 
His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 
With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 
The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 
You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 
“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 
“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 
Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 
With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 
“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 
The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 
“So, you want to fuck me?” 
“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”
With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 
Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 
“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 
Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 
Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 
“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 
“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”
One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 
“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 
With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 
For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 
“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 
You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”
“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 
“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 
“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”
Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”
“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”
“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”
Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”
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Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!
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Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings
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timmydraker · 3 months ago
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Tim who does crochet.
It’s Dick who is given the first gift, long before Tim is Robin and even before he knows who Robin is.
It was simply because he was a kind kid who had been there to witness something horrible and wanted to comfort the poor boy he saw sobbing off two lost loved ones.
Little Tim walked up to Dick with the crochet elephant that was admittedly a little funky looking and held it up to him without making eye contact. He had hidden the small plushie from his parents lest they disapprove of his hobby, just like they did with drawing and skating.
Dick had beamed happily and held onto the toy, saying it was so cute and how Tim should be so happy to have it.
Tim had frowned and shook his head, “It’s for you, Mister Grayson. It’s Tifa.”
Never had Tim seen someone so in awe of his creation as he did in that moment and it made him beam just like Dick had been.
Once Dick took the little elephant into his hands Tim had bolted away.
Bruce was next, being gifted a big fluffy jumper on his first birthday after loosing Jason. It was a soft, light green with too long sleeves that went over his ass. It was big, far too big, and thick enough that it might even be too hot in autumn.
He didn’t wear it for a while, mainly because he ignored the big wrapped present Tim had left in his room out of guilt and shame and even a little frustration.
When he opened it up he put it on and promptly broke down, finding the feeling more similar to a hug than he thought something non-hug could get.
He wore it in front of Tim once to show he appreciated it and then wore it whenever he was injured.
Steph got a few things, mainly tops and one big blanket that he gave her after they reconnected when she came back. It had been his way of saying he forgave her and wanted to be her friend again without using words.
Cass got a big poncho with a hood that was rainbow, bright and loud while still capable of hiding her when she felt she couldn’t be seen.
It took a long time for him to make Jason anything after he came back. When he did, him and Tim avoided each other for over a year until Tim overheard Alfred talking to Bruce about how sad it was to not see his two bright boys getting along.
Alfred had been pouring tea with the pot he made a kettle warmer snug with Lilly of the Vally on it when he said it.
So, Tim had searched through his old photos of Jason’s Robin and made himself recall those old ideals and awe. He made himself remember what Jason also had ripped from him and, while it wouldn’t change or excuse how Jason had brutalised him, it made him understand him more.
He decided that instead of joining to Jason and having a heart to heart, that he should do what all bats did and start off without saying a thing.
He makes Jason a blanket that took him over a month of a floral book cover of Jane Ire.
Tim was relived when it was done and simply left it laid out on Jason’s bed in his latest hideout with a note that said,
“I know little about Jane Ire, maybe you could tell me about it sometime?
~ Tim. D.”
Jason had sent him a text a day later to say he could send him a copy with his annotations if he wanted.
It wasn’t long after Tim had read the book, taking twice as long with all the notes Jason had left in it, that he was then left to make something for Damian.
Naturally, he didn’t want to at first.
Also naturally, he got bored and wanted to make another animal after seeing Tifa again. She was cute, but a little munted with age.
He took one look at Titus and promptly made a plan to create him with crochet. He wanted to give it to Bruce after he was done, but he’s only an asshole when he finds it entertaining.
At heart, he’s a kind boy, so he gives it to Damian.
When he gets an actual, verbal thank you from the new Robin, he makes Alfred the Cat and Ace, then finally Bat-cow and Goliath.
The best thing he’s made, according to Duke, is Signals first ever fan made merch that he wears nearly all the time.
Kate says that wrong because the leg warmers he made for winter patrols have apparently saved her life.
Salina would say it’s actually the cat pawed mittens he made her when he was twelve and never told Bruce about.
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cowboybeepboop · 2 months ago
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Kiss the chef 
 "Oh God...keep doing that..." 
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Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader
Genre: Smut
Word count: 5.7k
Summary: Clark is your best friend, who you suspect of being Superman. 
a/n: Guys I’ve been like obsessed with writing but I have zero time 😔 it’s torture and I’m also running out of ideas for the names of each oneshot they’re getting crazy 😭 Also yes, I’m aware I shift perspectives a lot, thats a stylistic choice 👍
Clark hums softly as he moves around the kitchen area, his hands working diligently as he prepares dinner for the two of you. 
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes catching a sight of you lounging on the couch, completely engrossed in your phone, a smile forms on his lips as a gasp escapes yours.
"Almost done in here," he says, his voice laced with a hint of contentment. "You find anything interesting on there?"
He turns his attention back to the meal, stirring something in a pan on the stove while sneaking glances your way, curious to know what's capturing your focus.
“Actually, yes.” You reply, hopping up and joining him in the kitchen. “There’s new photos of Superman that were just released.” You gushed, he knows about your crush on the hero, yet doesn't know that you’re imagining him as Superman.
Clark quirks an eyebrow, a slight amused smile on his face as he pretends to be surprised at the news. 
"Really?" he says, feigning intrigue, not that he would need to fake it. "New photos, huh?"
He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him in the kitchen, the mention of Superman stirring something within him.
You lean against the counter, your eyes locked on the screen. “Mm, it smells good.” you murmur, setting your phone down and looking at the food he’s prepared, your mouth nearly watering at the sight.
"Thanks." Clark replies, a proud smile spreading across his face as he watches you eye the dish with appreciation. He glances in the direction of the screen, seeing a glimpse of the photos of Superman before returning his focus to you.
"Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells." He teases, scooping up a spoonful of the food from the pan and offering it for you to taste.
You eagerly open your mouth, holding onto his wrist as you taste the flavor, you let out a satisfied noise. “It’s really good, like really good.”
Clark can't help but chuckle at the sound you make while tasting the food, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you hold onto his wrist. 
"I'm glad you like it." He says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I put a little extra love into it just for you."
He scoops up some more food and offers it again, watching your reaction intently.
You step closer, taking the spoon into your mouth again, enjoying the way he’s feeding you small bites. “I should hire you as my private chef.” You sigh, licking your lips as you look at the pot.
"Careful, I might take you up on that offer." Clark replies, his eyes following the movement of your tongue as it licks your lips. 
He sets the spoon down, then leans against the counter next to you, his arm casually resting next to yours. "Just imagine me cooking for you every night." He muses, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
“Sounds like heaven to me.” You grin at him, reaching for your phone as the screen lights up.
"Heaven, huh?" Clark muses, he glances at the lit-up screen, the photo of Superman once again catching his eye. He clears his throat, trying to keep his composure. "So, uh, what's so special about these new photos anyway?"
“You can see all of his muscles..” you murmur, eyes fixated on the photos. “I mean they’re such high quality, just look.” You show him the screen, your cheeks flushed a slight pink.
Clark swallows the words and the photos you show him causing a stirring within him. He struggles to keep his expression neutral as his eyes flick between the screen and you.
"Yeah, they're really uh, really high quality." He clears his throat, his eyes lingering on the image, specifically the muscles you mentioned. "You really like this guy, don't you?"
You nod, turning your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket. “I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to meet him..” you shiver at the thought.
Clark's heart flutters at your words, a mix of guilt and amusement playing within him. He can't help but wonder what your reaction would be if you knew the truth.
"Meet him, huh?" He remarks, his voice low and a touch hesitant. "What would you even do if you ever met him?"
“I can think of a couple things,” you reply suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows for further effect.
Clark blushes slightly at your suggestive reply, a mix of flustered surprise and amusement on his face. He glances away for a moment, trying to regain his composure. 
"A couple things, huh?" he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I doubt the Man of Steel has time for...whatever it is you're thinking."
“Every man has time for..” you grin, “What I’m thinking of.” Clark's blush deepens at your response, his heart skipping a beat. 
He scratches the back of his head, trying to remain cool and collected, though he can't entirely hide the effect your words have on him.
"Uh, yeah, well," he stammers, a bit of nervous energy in his voice. "I'm sure the Man of Steel has much bigger priorities than...meeting fans and fulfilling...fantasies."
“Maybe.. Or maybe he has all the time for his eager fangirls.” You pull your hair into a ponytail, slyly exposing your nape to him as you notice how flustered he's becoming.
A wave of heat washes over Clark as you expose your nape to him, and he struggles to keep his composure. His eyes linger on the exposed skin for a moment, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of desire and restraint.
"Eager fangirls, huh?" he teases, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "You certainly seem eager enough."
You giggle, watching as he turns off the stove. “I do, don’t I?”
Clark tries to ignore the way your giggle sends a shiver down his spine, turning his attention back to the stove instead. He swallows hard, desperately trying to keep his mind from wandering.
"You certainly do," he replies, his voice slightly strained. "And I have a feeling you're pretty relentless too."
“You know it.” Your grin grows as he plates the food, grabbing both in his hands as he leads you back to the living room. Clark balances the plates as he moves, he places them on the coffee table, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way your grin makes his heart race.
"Should we watch something? A movie perhaps?” he clears his throat as he changes the topic.
“Mm.. yeah, you pick what we watch.” You settle on the floor in front of the couch, your back pressing against his knee.
Clark can't help but savor the feeling of your back against his knee, a mix of contentment and desire swirling within him. He grabs the remote, flipping through possible options but not really paying attention, his mind too preoccupied with the proximity of you and your intoxicating scent.
"How about, uh..." He struggles to think of a suitable movie as he glances down at you, his heart rate increasing. "How about that one?" he points to a movie at random.
“Sounds good.” You agree, focused on the food in front of you.
Clark tries to focus on the movie as it plays, but his attention is constantly drawn to you, the way you sit, the way you eat, the way your scent fills the air. Every little detail seems to distract him.
As the movie progresses, he finds himself inching closer to you, his knee pressing more firmly against your back. He tries to act nonchalant, hoping you don't notice his increasing closeness.
As you finish your food, you lean back against his leg further, playing on your phone. “You know, I’ve been thinking..”
Clark stiffens slightly as you lean back further against his leg, the feeling sending a thrill through him. He tries to remain nonchalant as he responds.
"Thinking? About what?" He glances down at you, his eyes flicking to your phone before meeting the back of your head again.
“You’re a reporter.” You begin, turning to look at him. “If you ever met Superman, would you tell him about me? Put in a good word..” you’re hoping that prompting him might reveal his secret.
A pang of guilt hits Clark at your question, but he forces a smile, trying to maintain composure. He knows the truth, that he *is* Superman, but hearing you talk about him like that, asking him to put in a good word...it's both endearing and painful. 
"I...uh, yeah, sure." he says, his voice a bit strained. "If I ever met him...I'd definitely mention you."
“You’re such a good friend.” You smile, turning your attention back toward the tv though your mind is obscured with disappointment.
As you turn your focus back to the TV, Clark lets out a shaky exhale, the words "good friend" stinging a little more than he expected. He remains silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.
He glances down at you, the mixture of guilt and affection swirling inside him. He can't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out the truth.
You reach for your wine glass, taking a small drink of the crimson liquid. Clark watches as you take a sip, the way your lips touch the glass making his heart skip a beat. He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to reach out and touch your face, your hair, anything.
"You, uh, like the wine?" he asks, trying to keep his mind from wandering.
“It’s actually really good, I usually hate wine.” You reply, “Where did you get it?”
Clark watches you take another sip, a hint of surprise on his face at your admission. He glances over at the half-empty bottle on the coffee table.
"Oh, it's from a small vineyard in Italy.” he answers, trying to keep his voice casual. "A friend gave it to me, said it was a special blend. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, actually.”
His eyes linger on you once more, the sight of you drinking the wine stirring something within him.
“Then why did you waste it?” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to look at him, confusion painted on your face.
Clark’s heart flutters slightly at your question, a mix of surprise and affection coursing through him. He tries to maintain his composure as he speaks.
“W-waste it?” he repeats, his voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t think sharing it with a...a friend is a waste.” His eyes meet yours, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as he wonders if you can see through his facade.
“But it’s not particularly a *special* occasion, is it?” You cock your head to the side, shifting your body to face him.
Clark swallows, feeling your gaze on him as you turn to face him fully. He can see the curiosity in your eyes, the subtle hint in your question.
“I...I suppose not.” he admits, his voice soft. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.” He studies your face, his heart racing as he wonders if you suspect something.
You narrow your eyes at him, scanning his features. “Clark..”
Clark feels a hint of alarm as you narrow your eyes, your gaze intense as you seem to be studying him. He can sense your suspicion, and it makes his heart race even faster.
“Y-yes?” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t quite hide the nervousness that’s beginning to show.
“You look..” you lean closer, eyes glued to his every movement. “You really do look a lot like him.” biting down on your lip as you rest your hands on his knees. 
Clark’s heart stutters at your words, his breath catching in his throat. He tries desperately to maintain eye contact, but he can feel his resolve slipping away under your intense gaze.
“Like who?” he stutters, knowing full well you’re talking about Superman.
“You know who,” you roll your eyes at his response, leaning closer to peel his glasses off his face, your fingers brush over his cheekbones. Warmth pools in your stomach as you consider the consequences of pushing him any further. 
Clark's eyes widen as you reach for his glasses, he swallows hard, feeling a mix of panic and anticipation. He knows he should stop you, but he can't bring himself to move as you draw closer.
You fold them up and set them on the coffee table behind you. “You’re really handsome.” You murmur under your breath as you gaze up at him from your position on the floor, hands itching to touch his skin once again.
Clark's breath hitches at your compliment, his heart fluttering as he takes in your words and your proximity. He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as you look up at him, the mix of nervousness and desire swirling within him like a tempest.
He can't help but respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "You..you think so?" He reaches out, catching a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it around his forefinger. 
“Of course.” You smile, leaning your elbows on his knees. “Clark, we don’t have any secrets between us do we?” your breath seems to get caught in your throat, dropping hints isn’t working anymore, you’ll have to be more direct with him. 
Clark tries desperately to push down the panic that rises in his chest at your question. He knows he should say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat.
His gaze flicks around the room, trying to find anything other than your eyes to focus on, but it's no use. He can feel your expectation, the way you're searching for the truth. He glances down at you again, the sight of you leaning on his knees making his heart flutter,
"N-no," he stutters, his voice strained. "No secrets."
You can tell he’s not being truthful, your expression faltering. “You’re lying.”
Clark swallows hard, the wave of guilt that washes over him nearly overwhelming. He can see the disappointment in your face, the way your expression falters, and it guts him.
He can't keep lying to you, not like this. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his voice small.
"I...I am." he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What is it you’re hiding?” You murmur, eyes locked on his beautiful blue ones.
Clark can feel his facade collapsing with each passing second. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks back at you, your gaze intense and searching. He can almost feel the truth on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst out.
“You can tell me anything.. Clark, we’re friends.” You move to sit next to him on the couch.
Clark takes a deep breath as you move closer, sitting next to him on the couch. The feeling of your proximity, the warmth of your body next to him, it's both a comfort and a source of anxiety.
He gazes at you, his eyes betraying the mixture of emotions raging inside him. He wants to tell you, to share this secret, but he's also terrified of how you'll react when you find out you’ve been crushing on him. You place your palm on his leg, offering some comfort.
Clark feels your hand on his leg, the touch sending a wave of warmth through him, calming his nerves slightly, but not enough to quiet his worries.
"I..." he begins, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know how to say this, but..." He takes another deep breath, his voice soft, low, and filled with trepidation. "I'm Superman."
“I knew it!” You gasp, eyes widened as you straighten up next to him.
Clark's eyes widen at your exclamation, the suddenness and volume of your voice taking him aback. He hadn't expected such an immediate reaction, let alone you to believe him so readily. He watches as you straighten up next to him, a mix of surprise and relief washing over him. 
"Y-you did?" he stutters, his heart still racing.
“I mean of course, I’ve had my suspicions. Every time I speak of Superman it makes you turn pink.” You tease him lightly.
Clark feels his cheeks flush with color at your statement, the truth of your words hitting him hard. He blushes even more red as a result, the heat in his face growing in intensity.
He glances at you, a mix of embarrassment and relief in his expression. "I, uh, I didn't think it was that obvious," he mutters, his voice sheepish.
“Only because I know you so well.” You grin proudly. “But, I have another question for you.”
Clark can't help but feel a pang of affection as you grin at him, your confidence and familiarity with him making his heart flutter. He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Ask me anything," he says, his voice slightly more relaxed now that the secret is out.
“Does the man of steel really not have time for one of his fans?” You bite down on your lip.
Clark's heart stutters at your words, the change in your tone sending a wave of desire through him. He can feel his own heart rate spike as you bite down on your lip, your eyes filled with a mixture of teasing and want.
He sucks in a breath, his voice slightly hoarse as he manages a response.
"The man of steel has plenty of time for his...biggest fan."
“Biggest fan hm?” You question, sliding onto his lap and straddling his hips.
Clark's breath catches in his throat as you slide onto his lap, your body settling on top of him. He swallows hard, his heart racing as he looks up at you, your face so close to his he can almost taste your breath.
He places his hands tentatively on your hips, his fingers gently gripping the fabric of your clothes as he responds, his voice thick with desire. "The biggest. And the most beautiful."
“Clark..” you lean down, nose brushing against his. “Can I kiss you?”
Clark can feel your breath on his skin as you lean down, your nose brushing against his. His heart hammers in his chest, the sound of your voice sending a wave of anticipation through him. He gazes up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration. 
"Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Please...kiss me."
You cup his face, fingers dancing over his skin as you connect your lips softly.
Clark's eyes flutter shut as you cup his face, your fingers tracing gentle paths on his skin. The softness of your touch ignites a fire within him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that's both gentle and passionate.
He lets out a soft moan, his hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.
The kiss quickly turns hungry, your lips part to let his tongue in. Your body is pressed flush against him, hands tangling in his hair as you tug on the roots gently.
Clark's tongue explores your mouth with a hunger that takes him by surprise. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer against him, his body reacting to every move you make.
He lets out a low moan as you tug on his hair, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through him. He responds by biting your lip gently, his hands slowly caressing the skin of your back.
You pull away for a breath, Clark's chest heaves as you pull away, his eyes opening slowly to take in the sight of you. Your lips, swollen and glistening from the kiss, make his heart stutter, the need to kiss you again almost overpowering.
He gazes at you in awe for a moment, his breathing ragged, before speaking, his voice slightly hoarse.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his hands still holding you close.
“I think I have some idea,” You tease, glancing down at the tent growing in his slacks. “I can feel it, you know.”
Clark follows your gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he sees the effect your presence has on him. He swallows hard, his eyes darting back up to meet yours, a mixture of embarrassment and desire playing across his face.
He responds, his voice low, his fingers gently caressing your hip.
"That's...that's all your fault," he says, his words laced with a hint of accusation and appreciation.
“My fault?” Your hand begins to trail down his chest. “Then I guess I should take responsibility, take care of it.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck.
Clark's breath hitches as your hand trails down his chest, his heart rate quickening in anticipation. Your touch is fire on his skin, igniting every nerve.
He groans softly as you lean forward to kiss his neck, his head tilting to give you better access. Your words and the feeling of your lips on his skin send a wave of desire through him, his body reacting to your touch.
"Responsibility, huh?" he manages to reply, his voice strained. "I like the sound of that."
“I can finally do what I’ve been dreaming of doing to you..” you whisper into his ear, your hand finally making contact with his erection.
Clark's breath hitches at your words, the sound of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean in closer, your hand finally making contact with his hardness.
He lets out a low moan, his body responding to your touch with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh fuck..." He looks at you with hooded eyes, his voice thick with need. 
You reach for his shirt, pulling it off of him. “Holy shit, Clark.” Your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stare.
Clark feels a wave of heat as you pull his shirt off, the air cool against his skin. He watches as your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, the look of desire in your eyes making his heart race.
He knows how strong he is, how powerful his body is. But hearing your reaction, seeing the effect he has on you, it's something else entirely.
"You like what you see?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice, his muscles flexing under your gaze.
You lean forward, kissing his chest. “You have no idea.” You mutter, fingers trailing over each muscle as your other hand continues to massage his clothed hardness.
Clark's breath catches in his throat, his body reacting to your touch, your kisses on his chest sending waves of pleasure through him. He can't help but arch into your touch, his muscles responding to your caress.
He lets out a low moan, his voice strained as he speaks, "Oh God...keep doing that..." He's lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.
Clark's breath catches in his throat as your kisses move lower and lower down his stomach, each touch sending a wave of pleasure through him. He gasps as your tongue teases over his abs, his eyes watching your every move.
His hands grip the edge of the couch as you work on his belt, his desire for you growing with each second. He lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants, the feeling of your hands on him almost too much to bear.
Once his pants and boxers are removed, he's left naked in front of you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread apart. He gazes at you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
He's completely under your spell, his entire being focused on you and only you. "Come here." He reaches for you, his voice soft and needy. 
You bring your lips to his once again, the kiss passionate and hungry. Clark responds to your passionate kiss with a fervor of his own, pulling you closer against his body, his hands roaming over your back, your hips, everywhere he can reach. He's lost in the kiss, in the feeling of your body against his.
He can't get enough of you, his need for you growing with every passing second. He moans softly into your mouth, his body reacting to your touch, his hard length pressed against your thigh.
You reach to grasp his erection, his thick cock barely fitting in your grasp. You begin to move your hand, slowly jerking him off as the kiss becomes more intense.
You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, your eyes hooded in desire. “You’re huge..”
Clark's breath catches at your words, the praise sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your hand on him, stroking him slowly, the feeling overwhelming yet perfect.
“It’s perfect.. you’re perfect.” You slip off of his lap, settling between his muscular thighs.
Clark's heart flutters at your words, affection washing over him. He watches you move down between his thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you so close to his cock. He reaches down, gently running his fingers through your hair, his voice soft but filled with need.
"I could say the same about you," he says, his eyes meeting yours, his body alive with anticipation. "You're...you're incredible."
You lean in closer, wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as you taste the salty sweetness of his precum. The room is filled with the sounds of your gentle slurps and Clark's moans of pleasure. 
Your hand grips the base firmly, stroking in sync with your mouth as you take more and more of him in, inch by glorious inch. You feel him swell in your grip, the veins pulsing with his excitement. 
You moan around him, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your pace as your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive spot beneath the head. 
You look up at him through hooded eyes, watching his reaction as you deepthroat him, his face a mask of pure ecstasy. The intimacy of the moment is intoxicating, both of you lost in the sensual dance of your mouth and his cock, the tension building as the pleasure crescendos.
With every bob of your head, Clark's moans become louder, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you is palpable, the intimacy of the moment amplifying every sensation. 
His cock grows in your mouth, the taste of him driving you wild. You savor the feeling of his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, the power of his grip speaking to your desire. His eyes, filled with lust and admiration, bore into yours, creating a silent conversation of pleasure that needs no words. 
Your tongue laps at his shaft, tracing the veins that stand out against his skin, your mouth creating a warm, wet heaven around his length. Each stroke, each suck, each flick of your tongue is a declaration of your adoration, a silent promise to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and back again. 
The room feels like it's spinning around you, the air thick with passion as you both give into the carnality of the act. Your cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him so deep, but it's a challenge you eagerly accept, the thrill of his pleasure reflected in every whimper that passes your lips.
You continue to worship him with your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. The way his hips buck slightly with each deep throat, the way his abs tighten as he holds back, it's all driving you crazy. The sound of his breath hitching and his fingers tightening in your hair sends a thrill through you, making your pussy throb with need. 
You moan around him, the vibrations echoing along his length, and he can't help but thrust a little deeper into your welcoming heat. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's all you can focus on as you give him the blowjob of his life, eager to show him just how much he means to you, to show him the depth of your desire. 
You feel the tension in his body building, the way his thighs tense around you, and you know he's close. The air in the room crackles with energy, the heat from both your bodies blending into an intoxicating cloud of lust. 
You don't stop, you can't stop, you want him to remember this moment, to feel the intensity of your passion every time he thinks of you. 
You continue to devour him with your mouth, your eyes locked onto his, which are filled with a mix of disbelief and pure bliss. The connection between you is electric, your every movement a silent testament to the desire that's been simmering beneath the surface. 
Each time your lips meet the base of his cock, you can feel his thighs tense against your cheeks, and the soft groan that escapes from his lips sends shivers down your spine. You're both drowning in the intensity of the moment, your hearts pounding in time with the rhythm of your mouth and his hips. 
You can feel him swelling even more, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to this peak sends a thrill through you. You suck harder, faster, each motion a silent plea for him to let go. And when he does, with a final, desperate thrust into your throat, the salty warmth of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow eagerly, relishing the proof of his pleasure. 
You pull back slowly, licking your lips, watching as he comes down from the high with a sigh of satisfaction. The air is thick with the scent of sex and love, and it's all you can do to not climb onto him and feel him deep inside you, to complete this perfect moment.
Clark pulls you to him, his lip moving to your neck as he gently slides his hand under your skirt. The fabric whispers against your skin as he reaches for the waistband of your panties, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. His fingertips graze over the soft fabric before he hooks it with his thumbs, pulling them down slowly. 
His eyes never leave yours, filled with love and a desperate need to feel all of you. As the last of your barriers fall away, his erection pressed against your bare thigh, hot and demanding. His hands caress your skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his kisses trailing down to your collarbone, each one a promise of the passion to come. 
The air is charged with anticipation, your hearts beating in sync as you both give in to the intensity of your desires. He lifts you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if he never wants to let you go. You can feel the head of his cock nudging at your wet entrance, begging for more, but he takes his time, kissing you deeply and savoring the moment. 
His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in time with the rhythm of your kisses, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. The room is a whirlwind of passion and love as you both succumb to the depth of your feelings, the promise of ultimate intimacy just a breath away.
Clark's hands hold your hips as he guides you down onto his cock, the thickness of him stretching you open as you moan with pleasure. He's gentle, so gentle, as he makes love to you, each thrust coming slow and steady, as if he's savoring every moment. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in a firm but tender rhythm that sends electric jolts through your body. 
You lean back, gripping onto the couch cushions as he fills you completely, the sensation of his warmth and size overwhelming your senses. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you growing stronger with each shared breath. Each stroke of his thumb sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and your moans become more desperate, your body begging for release. 
His own breathing becomes more ragged, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you come apart in his arms. The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the perfect harmony of love and passion.
Clark’s eyes bore into you as he carefully guides his cock inside you, his movements tender and deliberate. The way you straddle him, the way your pussy clenches around him, it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. His thumb continues its delicate dance on your clit, his touch a masterpiece of passion. 
Your eyes are glazed with lust, your breath coming in short, needy gasps as he takes you higher and higher. Each stroke is a declaration of his love, a promise of the intensity to come. Your moans become louder, your body moving with his in a rhythm that feels like it's been written in the stars. 
His thumb presses harder, his hips moving faster, and you feel the first tremors of your orgasm beginning to build. The tension in the room is palpable, each touch a spark that ignites the bonfire of desire within you both. You lean into him, your breasts brushing against his chest, your body craving the closeness that only he can provide. 
The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the air, a testament to the love you share. You're both lost in the moment, in the symphony of your bodies, and the crescendo is just within reach. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you get closer, your breathing shallow and erratic. 
And when the climax hits, it's like a supernova, explosive and all-consuming, leaving you both gasping for air. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a balm to your soul as the waves of pleasure wash over you.
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