#the earrings came out right after don't worry

[magicaldice]

Synopsis: Y/n goes to a party with her bestfriend without telling her toxic boyfriend. She unexpectedly meets Chris sturniolo & things start to unravel overtime.

⚠︎ : read at your own leisure.

any feedback, likes, comments or shares, are appreciated!

pt 1

Once I arrive at my house I immediately go to Katie's room for answers. You haven't answered Jackson yet, you don't want to face him without talking to Katie first.

"Girl I'm so sorry, I couldn't find you anywhere. I tried asking people if they had seen you and nobody could tell me where to find you" Katie said. "I had tried calling you over and over. I didn't leave the party until I knew that you were okay" she says. "What do you mean? Did you end up finding me?" I ask.

"After about an hour of me searching for you, you called me. You were laughing saying you were going to your friend's house. That you were okay and not to worry about you" she continued. "I had just assumed you went home with Lucy" she explained.

After talking more about last night with Katie and explaining how I ended up staying at Chris's house I went into my room. It was time to face Jackson and I don't know if I could keep it together. I mean I feel betrayed in a way, that I tried to call him and he just didn't give a fuck.

If the roles were reversed I would of came and got him. It hurt in a way that I couldn't explain. At the same time I feel a lot of guilt. I went to a party without telling him beforehand. I didn't know how to tell him I blacked out. Or the fact that I spent the night at a stranger's house. I shouldn't have been so dumb. What was I thinking?

I decided to call him, get this over with. The call was what you expected. Him lecturing you, telling you how bad you fucked up. After 15 minutes of listening to him scold you, he says he's going to pick you up.

My anxiety was at peak as I waited for him to pick me up. When he arrived, I so badly just wanted to disappear. I got into his car, and the silence was suffocating. But it only lasted so long. He drove around, calling me names and telling me how bad of girlfriend I was.

"Don't you understand y/n? You're a fucked up person. I don't understand what I did for you to treat me like this" he said. "I know I'm sorry. I just-" his driving became more reckless. "I'm sorry" I repeated. "No you're not. How could you be so fucking selfish?" He yells. "Theres a fucking video posted on social media of you all drunk dancing on a table like some fucking cheap slut " he said harshly.

Tears stream down my face, feeling so worthless and small. Jackson parks in a parking lot. "Listen. You don't get to just go out with your bad influence friend and expect me to not freak out, especially when you didn't even ask me first" he says in a more calm voice.

He grabs onto my thigh and squeezes as I stare out the window, fighting back tears. A pit forms in my stomach. "Babe, I'm sorry for yelling and stuff I just, I just care about you and want to make sure your safe" he expressed while rubbing my thigh up and down.

"I know, I understand. I guess I just wasn't thinking" I respond wiping tears from my eyes. His hand rubbing up and down my thigh makes me feel unbelievably sick to my stomach. "I was worried about you, ya know. I just want to protect you" he says gripping onto your thigh.

I nod my head, hoping that this conversation would end already. Jackson pulls a piece of hair behind my ear. "You know I love you right?" He speaks. I nod my head acknowledging his words. "Say it back" he demanded. "I love you too" I quickly said.

After Jackson and I had talked he drove us to his house. He said he wanted to hangout and spend time with me. I should have known what he meant. As soon as we got to his house, he was already being a little extra touchy. We had sex and then as soon as we got done he said he needed to go to sleep because he had work early in the morning. So he drove me back home and kissed me goodbye.

It made me disgusted with myself. He was right, I let him down and I felt terrible about it. Jackson didn't deserve to be treated like that. I mean he was my boyfriend, his feelings matter too.

later that night

from unknown number: how did things go?

to unknown number : is this chris?

from unknown number: yes maame

to chris: im gonna call you real quick

Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hello stranger" Chris says into the phone. "Can you please tell me everything that happened from start to finish" I say. "That would take forever" he responds. "Please. I need to know" I say clearly stressed about this. "You wanna smoke?" he asks. "What?"

"You seem like you need to smoke. I can come over and we could smoke, and while we smoke I'll tell you all about last night, yeah?" He spoke. "Fine. I'll send you the address" I said before hanging up.

20 minutes later Chris is at my door. I let him inside and we sit down in the living room. "You live alone?" he asks. I shake my head no. "My friend lives with me, she's at a friend's house right now".

He pulls out a blunt and lights it. "Okay so you can you just give me a run down of what happened" I said hoping he would be as detailed as possible. I watch as he inhales the thick smoke. "Well, we were dancing together. You looked like you were getting sick so I took you to the bathroom. I offered to stay outside the bathroom so no one would walk in" he said as he hands me the blunt.

I hit the blunt and listen while he talks. "But you told me to not to leave you alone, so I went into the bathroom with you". I cringe at the fact that he saw me sick. "After you stopped throwing up you sat on the floor for a minute, I didn't really know what to do so I just sat with you until you were ready to get up" he says. I pass the blunt back to him.

The weed makes me feel more calm. "After you got up off the floor bathroom you kept hugging me and saying that me and you should ditch the party" he continued. I start blushing from embarrassment. He hits the blunt, letting the smoke fill his lungs. "I told you we could go outside for some fresh air but you could barely walk".

He passes the blunt back to me. "You kept saying to take you to taco bell, so I helped you walk outside and get to my car. We went to the taco bell drive thru and I parked so we could eat". I shake my head feeling self-conscious about my actions.

"We ate and I told you I'd take you home so you could sleep it off. You said you didn't want to go home and that's when someone called you. You were telling whoever it was on the phone that you were okay and that you were going to stay the night at a friend's house".

"A few seconds later you tried to call your boyfriend. He answered but he refused to come get you. So you hung up the phone and said you wanted to stay the night with me"

I inhale the smoke from the blunt, letting it calm my nerves. "I was driving us back to my place when you grabbed my phone. I was confused but you pulled up the camera and started taking selfies. So I have a bunch of random selfies of you in my phone right now" he chuckled.

I pass the blunt back to him and then put my hand over my face. He pulls out his phone and starts to show me the ridiculous amount of pictures I took of myself. "Oh my fucking god" I spoke.

"After you were done spamming pictures of yourself you took your shoes off" he said right before hitting the blunt. "You kept saying how "free" and happy you felt. At that point we arrived at my house. I carried you inside and sat you on my bed. I told you that I was gonna sleep on the couch and you got mad"

"What do you mean I got mad?" I asked. He hands me the blunt and I take a hit. "You wanted me to sleep in there with you, you wouldn't let me leave the room. So I ended up laying next to you until you fell asleep" he expressed. "I waited for you to fall asleep so I could go sleep on the couch" he admitted.

"Im- sorry I don't even know what to say" I voiced. "You drooled on me" he blurted out. "What do you mean I drooled on you?" I asked confused. "You fell asleep on my chest and ended up drooling on me" he said. My cheeks turn pink once again. I fell asleep on his chest ."I didn't mind though" he said shrugging.

I passed the the rest of what's left of the blunt to him. "But yeah, that's pretty much everything that happened" he said. "How did things go with your boyfriend?" he questioned. I shake my head. "It went exactly how I expected to go".

"Which is how?" He questions again. "He just kinda yelled and stuff. Just the usual shit" I said truthfully remembering how the interaction was. "He sounds like a bitch" Chris said nonchalantly. I look at him, our eyes lock. And as much as I try to read his energy I can't. And it bothers me that I cant read his energy.

Eyes still locked on one another, he gives a short smile and shrugs. "What I was just saying. He doesn't sound like a very good boyfriend" Chris spoke. My heart starts to thump a little too fast at his words. "Anyways I should get back home, its getting late" he said.

"Yeah- yeah um- okay. Well thanks for coming over and telling me what happened. And smoking with me" I say. "Mhm" he says standing up and grabbing his phone off the couch. "You ever wanna runaway with a stranger again you know who to call" he says before walking towards the door. "Mhm I'll keep that in mind" I respond sarcastically.

After he leaves my brain gets to thinking. Is it weird that I feel his presence comforting? The only thing that bothers me is that I can never read his energy.

A week later

Madi and I have been texting, she wants me to come over and hangout tonight. Chris and her boyfriend Matt are going to visit their brother Nick at the college he stays at. So while they do that Madi wants to me to come over and hangout.

I arrive at Madi’s at around 8 pm. I knock on the door and a few short seconds later she lets me inside.

Madi and I smoke a blunt and bake some cookies. I’m very hopeful for this friendship, it seems so genuine and sweet I think to myself.

“How long have you and Matt been together?” I ask out of curiosity. “For 2 years” she replied. “What about you and Jackson?” She asks. “For a year”. Madi hands me a plate with some of the cookies we baked on it. “So has he always been an asshole?” She asked half way joking.

“A lot has changed since we first got together. When we first met he was super nice and charming. Super sweet and always making me feel special. But now it’s like he’s almost emotionally unavailable. I don’t know if that’s the right way to put it, I just feel like we have gotten so distant”.

“Do you guys go on dates at all?” Madi questions. “Um- no not really- the last time we went on a date was like 3 or 4 months ago”. Madi’s jaw drops. “Girl what the hell? How are you tolerating that?” She says as if she’s actually concerned and confused. “I mean it’s not the end of the world, right?” I spoke.

After me and Madi continued to talk for about 2 hours, getting to know eachother better, we sat in the living room to watch a movie. Shortly after the movie was put on, I had fallen asleep.

Chris’s POV

After me and Matt visit our brother Nick we head back to the house. I'm tired and just want to go to sleep at this point. On the drive home I scroll through my phone and go back to the pictures y/n took on my phone.

That girl is something else. She kind of intrigued me in a way I couldn't properly articulate. I haven't talked to her for about a week, last time I saw her was when I went to her house to smoke. But I was okay with that considering were not really friends.

When we arrive to the house I wasn't expeceting to see Madi and her asleep on the couch. I look over at Matt who looks just as confused. "Did you know she was here?" Matt whispers quietly, trying to be quiet since Madi and y/n were asleep. I shake my head no.

Matt walks over to Madi and picks her up off the couch, carrying her to his bedroom. I stare at y/n for a moment, not exactly sure if I should wake her up or let her sleep. I walk over to her, "y/n" I whisper. No response. I put my hand on her shoulder and shake her gently. "Y/n" I say quietly. She groans in response.

"Did you need to go home? Or are you staying the night?" I ask. Her eyes barely open. "What time is it?" she asks in a strained, obviously tired voice. I look at my phone and check the time 1:23 a.m. "Its 1 am you can stay here if you want" I offer. "Fuck" she mutters.

"You okay?" I ask, watching her sit up on the couch. "Just tired. Didn't mean to fall asleep" she says. She grabs her phone, squinting as the bright light of her screen hits her face. "Fuck" she says again. "What? What happened?" I ask curiously. "Jackson. He texted me almost 2 hours ago asking where I was" she said.

Y/N POV:

Seeing Jackson's message put anxiety in my body. He's gonna be mad I didn't answer. "Did you tell him you were hanging with Madi?" Chris asks. "No. I tried calling him before coming over to let him know but he didn't answer the phone".

Chris sits down on the couch next to me. A little closer than I was expecting but I didn't mind. "Can't you just tell him you were hanging out with Madi" he says. I nod my head, still so tired. "He's gonna find a reason to get mad" I say outloud. Chris doesn't respond, he just stares down at the floor. A moment of silence passes.

"I don't like him" he says. "You don't even know him" I quickly respond. "Don't need to know him to know that he doesn't treat you like he should" he responds. "You've known me for like a week and all the sudden you wanna tell me who I can and can't be with" I say getting defensive. "Never said you can't be with him, I was just pointing out an an observation" he responded quicker than I could process. Silence falls between the two of us. Too tired to enertain this conversation.

"Sorry, I should probably head back home" I say even though every part of me just wants to go back to sleep. Chris doesn't respond, he just nods his head. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath, trying to convince myself to get up off this cozy couch and leave. "Just stay here" Chris says.

I look over at Chris wanting so badly to listen to him and stay here. He looks back at me, looking just as tired as I am. I let out a deep breath once again. "Just stay" he says repeating himself, letting his hand fall onto my thigh. I look down at his hand on my thigh, staring at it. Chris looks down and realizes I'm staring at his hand on my thigh and he quickly removes it.

I get a weird feeling in my body. Before I can even get a chance to overthink the feeling Chris stands up and walks into the kitchen. "I think im gonna go home, but thank you for the offer" I say finally getting up off the couch, grabbing my phone. Chris opens the fridge and grabs a water bottle.

He walks back into the living room and nods his head. "Drive safe" he says before sitting back down on the couch. I put my shoes on and say goodbye before walking out the door.

Once I get home and into my bed my phone dings.

I check to see who texted

from chris: goodnight stranger

[writingwisterias]

we always talk about flashing Leon, but can you write a short fic, ( like a few lines ) about actually flashing him ? Thank uuu

LMFAO, I can try with my half dead brain from today at work I hope you like it!!:

Slight NSFW

You could tell that he was just in one of those moods, the type where no matter what you had to say or what you did, he wouldn't stop picking at all the things you were apparently doing wrong. His eyes bore into you with irritation, a scowl that had been on his features for so long today you were worried it would become permanent.

At this point you had tried nearly everything to dampen his sour mood. You made his favorite for dinner, let him chose what to watch on TV, offered an ear for him to voice his irritation even if it ended in an argument. He had a lot going on, you understand that. A relationship with Leon needed patience even if you're loosing the last few seconds of it. After another off handed comment, the brief idea came into your head. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, thankful that you had opted for comfort today and there was no bra preventing him from seeing.

It should have been embarrassing to him how quick his eyes drew to your chest and how fast his eye lit up at just the quick flash you gave him. That's not even mentioning the now aching throb that made his cock spring to life. You were surprised his jaw didn't become slack with a cartoonish tongue rolling out of it. "Happy now?" You teased, a smirk plastered on your feature, eyes practically glowing from his reaction. Leon snapped out of his gaze with an enthusiastic nod. If he was a puppy right now you were sure his tail would be a blur behind him. "Very happy,"

Leon moved around the table, his erection prominent in his grey sweats as he finally reached you. His hands itched to lift up the fabric in order to see his favorite body part again. To feel the soft flesh beneath his scarred hands. Only they were swatted away with a slap to the back of his hand. "What-?" He gasped, offense lining his features as he glared at you again. "What makes you think you deserve tittie privileges after that?" You scoulded with a smile, a laugh escaping your lips at his exaggerated pout. "Sorry," he whispered his hand finding their way to the hem.

He didn't even wait for your permission to touch, his hands finding your hardened nipples as soon as he exposed them, tweaking the sensitive buds with a smirk. "Perhaps there's a way I can make it up to you?"

"You better make it good,"

"Don't doubt me sweetheart"

[deveondog]

BGood morning/afternoon/evening! I saw your requests were open, so I was wondering if you could request a Ruggie x Male!reader minific, where you're both cuddled up after a long day of work after work at NRC and simply seeks a little comfort from each other before falling asleep?

If you are not comfortable with a male reader, it can be gender neutral.

Cuddle Bug

Ruggie Bucchi x Male Reader

A/N: HI FIRST REQUEST OMGGV HIHI!!!! and dont worry im SUPER okay with male reader!!! as a transman my bais(??) is male and gn reader!! so ur ok anonie <33

Summary: You've both have had a rough day. Between your freshman group shenanigans, to Leona's endless tasks– You both knew you needed some solace.

Reader is Yuu, established relationship

Written on a phone, may be weird looking sorry :(

Ace had made the mistake of insulting his housewarden in the open again. Unfortunately for your ear drumbs, it seems Riddle had developed a new unique magic for popping up unannounced and snipping anyone who dare throw dirt on his name. "Off with your head!" echoed throughout the lunch room. "You still dare talk down on me when you plenty sure know the consequences?!" You sigh heavily, already dreaming of your uncomfortable little bed in your way to dirty space of ramshackle while Riddle continued to yell at Ace. Turning beet red as the latter almost looked ready to start shouting something back.

Before he could you quickly got up from your seat and started walking away swiftly, trying not draw too much attention to yourself. "Hey prefect, where're ya goin'?" Epel questioned, not caring to cover up his accent. "I don't feel to good, im gonna head back to ramshackle for the day." you say soft enough just for him to hear. He nods without fanfare, allowing you to head back to ramshackle— but not before getting out your phone and giving ruggie a text.

You: Hey rugs, u available rn?

Rugs: depends.. does sittin around sore as hell after doing a lazy princes' chores all day sound available?

You: Hmmm yeah it does to me

Rugs: mm u right shishishi

You: weeellll, do u wanna come over? sounds like we've both had a rough day annndddd a cute lil hyena cuddling with me sounds really nice rn

Rugs: fr? you bet! be at ram in 10 tops.

You got to ramshackle in record time, looking forward to settling down for the rest of the day, even if it meant skipping afternoon classes. You waited outside for your boyfriend because it was a nice cool day– not too hot or too cold, and just enough of a breeze to not be chilly.

Ruggie strolled up to ramshackles open gate just a few minutes after you had, seemingly having run to the house. Once he came near, he immediately draped himself over you in a lazy type hug, while sticking his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling your intoxicating scent– it makes you chuckle seeing him so different from his cocky texts just minutes earlier.

"Missed you" .. "Rugs, its been like.. a day at most," you say bluntly before pausing. "I missed you to stinker, let's go." He looks up at you for a few seconds before giving you a small peck on the lips. "Shishishi~ cmon prefect! cant let the bed get cold now." he giggled at your face, looking a bit surprised from what he had just done. "Haah.. yeah yeah" you mumble grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs.

Finally heading up the stairs into your room, you climb into the bed– hearing the it creeeaakkk as you finish adjusting yourself into a suitable position. Once you settle down, you tell Ruggie he can get in now. Watching him lean down and crawl towards you filled you with a familiar feeling blooming in your chest. He cuddled close to you, head to your chest– continuing to inhale your scent for comfort. You two sit in a comfortable silence until you start to feel your eyelids become heavy. The hyena below you seems to feel the same way because his breathing has slowed but you can tell he's calm and relaxed.

"Love you Rugs," you say softly, looking down some and planting a small miss on his head. He mumbles something unintelligible but you have a guess of what he said. More silence fills the air as sleep finally comes for you.

Request are open!! may take awhile though..

Hey anonie!! sorry it took so long for such a shirt thing :(( i had an idea of making reader sleep in ruggies room in Book 3 instead of leonas, and i got that far but i couldn't figure out where to go from there so thats why it took awhile lol

thanks for the request it was so cute!! ^^

[estellardreams]

The Brotherhood

The New Past AU by @lululocomo

The ask on the brotherhood showing up with MK helping gave me a bit of material to work with on how it would go, however... I came across some art on an idea and now Imma see where this goes

Hope you enjoy :)

Mk was not expecting the strike to be so... Brutal. Granted, his memory was a touch fuzzy on journey to the west. He hadn't reread it in a while, especially the passage on the pilgrims sealing up the brotherhood.

But now, he was here... Approaching their kingdom, riding behind Wukong and Macaque on the nimbus back to Tripitaka and everyone else.

"Alright, we're here." Wukong leapt off the cloud, helping Macaque and MK down with him.

"Thank you. Though I must ask, why did you bring your son along?" Tripitaka asked.

"I wanted to come with! I... I have something I need to do here, too." MK quickly piped up.

"Ah. Very well, then."

"I feel like we should revise our plan so we don't accidentally get ambushed." Ao Lie spoke up.

"Nonsense! It's totally fine!" Wukong said proudly.

"No, I agree with him. We should rethink this because your plan of pretending we're bait is..." Macaque trailed off.

"Really bad." MK winced.

Wukong groaned. "Then what do all of you suggest? I'm trying to find a way to get us inside without being detected as threats!"

MK's ears perked up, his gaze drifting up to the kingdom. His eyes narrowed, seeing more than three figures roaming the streets.

"Do you guys know it's not just the brotherhood there?" he asked.

"Wait, really?" Wukong snapped to look at him.

Mk pointed to the multiple figures gathering at the edge.

But three seemed to tower over the smaller ones.

"Brother! So glad of you to join us! Have you finally come to your senses?" Azure declared.

"What's the plan?!" Baije hissed.

"Don't worry, I got this!" Wukong piped up.

"Of course I have! After all, I have captured my fake friends for all of you!" he called back.

"WHAT?!" nearly everyone exclaimed.

"Are we seriously going with this plan?!" Macaque questioned.

Peng flew down to them, circling around them. "Then why are they not in chains? Why do you still have their controlling crown on?"

... Shoot he didn't think of that.

"That's just a glamour, okay?"

"Then drop it."

Wukong paused. He knew that he was basically screwed in trying to remove his entire glamour, especially since it was noticeable how the swirls appeared for concealing over dissipating.

"Excuse me?" Tripitaka spoke up.

"We do not mean your kingdom any harm. Please, come with us. I'm sure we can talk through this in a civilized manner-"

"Oh, the little monk wants to be good guy now?" Peng snarked.

Mk scowled, trying to hide his expression.

"And this boy... You brought a child with you? How idiotic can you be?" he hovered right up to MK's face.

"Not idiotic enough to miss." he summoned a staff of golden shadows before slamming the blunt end right in front of Peng's face.

He fell back a little, brushing over his beak.

"You little brat!" he snarled, flying back up to the kingdom.

Mk breathed, keeping a tight grip on his staff.

Some of the crowd began to vanish, but a good chunk of them remained.

"So. All of you are trying to deceive us?" Azure began.

"... You're no better than those celestials and their empty promises." a huge blast of a swing came flying at them.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Macaque yelled, using his shadows to force everyone out of the way of the strike.

"Oh, it's on! Let's finish this!" Wukong summoned his staff, charging at the kingdom.

"DAD! WAIT!" MK ran after him.

"KID!" Macaque chased after the two of them.

"All of you, go. I'll stay behind in case any of you need support." Tripitaka said.

"No, I'll keep you safe Master." Ao Lie shifted his form back into a dragon, scooping their group up before flying to the top.

The moment MK arrived, he was bodyslammed into by Yellowtusk. He skidded back, planting his staff into the ground.

The hammer came crashing down over him, causing him to leap out of the way.

Azure knocked Wukong back, making him collide into MK. Macaque quickly caught the two using his shadow portal, repositioning them back up as if nothing happened.

"Brother. They've brainwashed you, haven't they?" Azure started.

"No, they didn't."

"They're using you! Turning you against us! What happened to rising up against their injustice?"

A dragon crashed directly into the three, sending them flying. The other demons on standby froze, weapons and armor nearly ready.

Ao Lie transformed back to normal, catching Tripitaka, Wujing, and Baije before they all fell.

"Ah! Thank you, Ao Lie." Tripitaka softly thanked.

"How many people even are there?!" Baije yelped, noticing the small army of demons preparing their weapons.

Mk frowned, contemplating their options.

"I have an idea since we're all here. Tripitaka, I think you should stay somewhere out of reach for defense and healing. Ao Lie, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing, how about you help us deal with that army over there?"

"But what about you three?" Wujing asked.

"We can take on Azure and the others. Don't worry!" Wukong said.

"... I can work with that." Baije held onto his enchanted rake. Wujing slipped his crescent staff off his back, positioning it.

Ao Lie flew Tripitaka up to a roof behind a building, mostly out of sight.

"Stay there, please." he whispered. Tang nodded, holding his Khakkhara tightly.

The Brotherhood slammed right back down into the center, Azure slamming his blade down as streams of energy strikes flew past the monkeys.

They quickly dodged, leaping out of the way. Yellowtusk struck his hammer into Macaque, sending him flying.

"BABA!" MK screamed.

"I'll go after him!" Wukong said.

"No you WON'T!" Peng forcibly pinned Wukong to the ground.

Macaque collapsed to the floor, heaving a little as the elephant towered over him.

Mk gritted his teeth, noticing Azure preparing his sword again.

He needed to act fast.

Wukong knocked Peng off of him, holding back the bird. Peng leapt back, firing his feathers at him.

Wukong spun his staff, deflecting whichever ones came to him. One suddenly pierced through his shoulder. He fell to the ground, gripping his arm as he pried it out.

The blade nearly missed MK. He fell back, avoiding another blow as it crushed the ground beneath him.

"My patience is wearing thin!" Azure yelled, continuing to swing his blade towards MK.

He kept ducking and dodging, letting himself fall through a shadow portal. He rose right out from behind Azure, sweeping him off his feet with a kick.

His sword flew into the air. With one move, MK leapt up and kicked the blade far away.

He landed back on the ground, his tail swishing behind him. He snuck a glance at the others, who seemed to be handling the small demon army quite well.

His staff was torn out of his hands.

Mk froze, seeing Azure snap his weapon in half with ease before punching him.

Mk quickly ducked, avoiding a kick from the lion. He bolted towards his dad's, only to get yanked right back by the torso and thrown into the pilgrims.

"Xiaotian?!" Wujing exclaimed, panicked. He quickly helped MK to his feet.

"I refuse to be brought down by the celestial warriors." Azure growled.

Wukong launched himself from the ground, forcibly tackling Azure to the ground. The lion wrestled the monkey off of him, throwing him to Yellowtusk, who was carrying Macaque on his shoulder.

"NO!" MK cried out. He gritted his teeth, summoning his staff again. He charged at the lion, who's gaze shifted to him mere inches away.

His paw swung.

Claws gleamed.

Time seemed to move too still for him.

MK's breathing hitched, his ears ringing, his body feeling stuck.

And then... It sped right back up as the claws connected to his face.

"KID!!!"

"CUB!!!"

"XIAOTIAN!!!"

Screams echoed through his ears as Mk fell backward, landing on his side.

Macaque gritted his teeth, shadow portaling out of Yellowtusk's grasp. He ran to MK's side, kneeling down to him.

Mk panted, blood splattering on the ground.

Wukong broke out of the elephants grip as well, rushing to MK's side.

The small monkey's fingers traced over his face, blood staining his paws.

He froze, staring at his dad's wide eyed.

"A-Are you guys okay...?" he softly asked, his hand tracing along the claw mark over his left eye.

Macaque gently cupped his cheeks before pulling the kid into a hug.

"H-huh?"

"Wukong. Get the scroll."

Wukong's gaze shifted between his mate and cub. He sighed, moving so fast the brotherhood couldn't catch him. He ducked behind the building, taking a breather.

"Master, I need the scroll. Now." he said.

Tripitaka nodded, passing the scroll of memory to him.

Ao Lie, Zhu Bajie, and Sha Wujing quickly surrounded Macaque and MK, with Tripitaka forming a barrier around them.

"What?" Azure questioned.

Wukong's gaze landed on him first... Sharp, yet hollow. He let the scroll fall open, it's curse shooting out through its incantation.

Clawed hands shot out and grabbed him, dragging him inside the scroll. Peng quickly flew up to leave, only for the tendrils to snag him down from the air and drag him inside as well.

Yellowtusk charged to take the scroll from him, only to get sucked in as well. Wukong tossed the scroll up and sealed it back up. Tripitaka finally came out of hiding, having the scroll passed to him.

"Bud... Are you okay?" Wukong gently pulled MK over to look at him.

Mk stared up at him, wide eyed.

"Why can't I... See?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, buddy..." Wukong pulled his cub into a close hug. Macaque joined them again, holding MK close.

"It hurts..."

"I know it does, bud... But it's... I-it's okay..." Wukong gently assured him, stroking his fur.

But when he met Macaque's gaze, he knew it was not okay at all.

Their little cub had just been blinded.

[alor-ika]

Or should I call you Scorch?

How Scorch got his name

Word count: about 1100 words

Warnings: no warnings

Summary: I have never written fanfic before but you have all inspired me. I thought I’d start off with a straightforward rendition of how Scorch got his name for the day 1 prompt ‘you’re hurt.’ New to posting text here so please bear with me! I don't know how to use the cool headers and dividers. :(

RC-1262 looked nervously around at the other commando cadets in the clinical white room. It was just like all the other rooms on Kamino, at least all the other rooms he’d seen. Usually he only trained with his brothers, but today was demolitions training. Just him, Sergeant Vau, and the other cadets selected to be the demo specialists for their squads.

“Are you ready RC-1262?” Vau asked without looking at the cadet. RC-1262 snapped to attention. “Yes sir!” he barked his reply, looking straight ahead.

Vau glanced down at the curly haired boy who was clearly trying not to sound too eager. He’d chosen RC-1262 to be Delta Squad’s demolitions expert because was smart, calm enough, and he’d shown some aptitude for the calculations required to mix the explosives properly. Not enough and you’d be dead. Too much and, well, you’d also be dead. ‘Yes,’ Vau thought to himself confidently, ‘I made the right choice for this position.’

The boy didn’t need to know that, though. “Get everything right the first time, RC-1262. Do not embarrass me.” With that, Vau walked off to join the other trainers.

The cadets were tasked with making increasingly complex and intricate detonators, ones that could blow open doors and blow up droids and organics of various sizes. Scorch was the first one to figure out and complete every objective. Finally, they were on the last – and most complex – detonation exercise.

“Are you sure you want that much baradium in a practice det?”

RC-1262 raised an eyebrow as he glanced up to see who was questioning him. RC-1136. Darman from Theta Squad. One of Skirata’s boys. Soft.

“I know what I’m doing RC-1136” he scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Worry about yourself and that shabla excuse for a det in front of you.” Darman kicked his seatmate’s leg. “Mine’s just fine, mir’sheb di’kut” he retorted, a bit too loudly.

Vau was on them in a second. “What are you two babies crying about?” he hissed, his gold eyes narrowed angrily.  Neither cadet spoke. Vau grabbed the collars of both their fatigues, lowered his head and repeated the question, letting go of them with a push.

"RC-1136 questioned the amount of baradium I put in this det AND he called me a mir'sheb di’kut." "Sir” RC-1262 added hastily. Darman looked at 62 and the tall stern training sergeant. He scurried to the safety of the next table, leaving his unfinished det behind. All the cadets knew about Vau and Darman did not want to be in his line of fire.

Vau sighed and removed his helmet. He looked around the room imperiously. This was a training class after all, he thought, deciding to give RC-1262 a chance to explain himself. “Well, did you do it properly?”

“Yes sir!” came the enthusiastic reply. “Watch!” he said putting it in the uncovered transparisteel box in front of him. Once he pushed the remote button the resultant puff of smoke and small boom would finally, hopefully, make Sergeant Vau proud of him.

Disoriented, RC-1262 looked around from his position on the floor, a few metres back from where he’d been seconds earlier. His ears were ringing, and his fatigues were damp, the sprinklers in the ceiling having been activated. Someone picked him up and transported him to another room. RC-1262 squeezed his eyes shut and mentally catalogued all his extremities. He knew what happened to cadets who were injured.

A few minutes later, RC-1262 found himself in the medbay, being scanned by a droid-medic. “Am I going to be exterminated?” RC-1262 asked Sergeant Gilamar, trying not to sound nervous. Gilamar, the Mandalorian head medic, glanced over in a not unkindly way. He shut down the droid-medic and explained: “you’ve burnt some skin on your face and cut your head on a chair when you flew backward. Nothing too serious. You’ll be fine in a day or two.” RC-1262 looked around, relieved. He sat up on the med bed. “No, they won’t be terminating you,” Gilamar concluded sternly, thinking of the Kaminoans he’d come to loathe over the past few years.

“You might wish you were marked for termination though,” Sev’s voice sniggered from the corner. Gilamar and RC-1262 looked over to see the three other members of Delta Squad peering at them slyly.

“Once you see what you did to Sarge’s face, you might request termination” Fixer commented, sounding more serious than his brother.

“Oh SHAB” RC-1162 yelped, looking around for Vau. Terminated before he even got to choose a name for himself.

 “Sargent Vau is in there” Gilamar told the cadets, motioning ominously to a second door. The four boys silently made their way to the door, nudged it open, and cautiously peered into the darkened room.

“Is he… Is he dead?” RC-1262 managed to squeak out. Sarge could be mean and rough, but they trusted him, and he always told them that he was teaching them to survive because that was the most important thing for a soldier. The four looked at each other nervously. Surely they’d be terminated for killing a trainer… even Vau.

“Of course I’m not dead!” A haughty voice snapped from the darkened room. Vau appeared in the doorway. The four boys huddled together, backing up.

“But you’re hurt! I hurt you!” RC-1262 gasped, looking at the bacta bandages on his training sergeant’s left cheek, neck, and forehead. Even part of eyebrow seemed to have been burned away.

“No sniveling! Besides, I’ve had worse,” Vau sneered, touching his temple rather gingerly. He looked at RC-1262 sternly. “You did an acceptable job today. You’ll make a fine detonation expert, RC-1262. Or should I call you Scorch?”

Vau opened the door leading to the hallway and waved his squad away. The cadets glanced at each other, confused. They saluted the two trainers and marched out of the medbay before Vau came to his senses. “Scorch!” Sev growled, trying out the name that had been bestowed on his brother. “It’s a di’kutla name but that’s fitting” Boss remarked. The four of them dissolved into laughter,  Fixer poking at Scorch’s bandaged face.

Back in the medbay, Gilamar regarded the other man carefully. He had been half expecting Vau’s wrath, but Vau seemed very much unconcerned. “Walon” he hedged, “I thought you’d be angry with Scor - - er, RC-1262.”

Vau looked to make sure the door was closed and the boys had left. “No, Mij,” he sighed, disappointed to have to explain himself. “It was my fault. I leaned too close to see the measurement line on the detonator.” He paused and looked around again. “But if you tell this to anyone, especially Skirata, you will regret it deeply.” Gilamar saw the slightest tug of a smile on the uninjured side of Vau’s face, but he didn’t comment on that; he simply nodded and passed Vau his jet black buy’ce.

Later that night, RC-1262 lay awake in his bunk as his brothers slept. “Scorch” he whispered to himself over and over, getting used to his name. ‘Yeah, that’s me. Scorch!’ he thought contentedly, finally closing his eyes. “Thanks Sarge and sorry about your eyebrow!”

@deltasquadweek

[barbieforbreakfast]

My very first vintage Barbie restoration 💜She had a deep clean to remove some yellowing, a subtle rhinoplasty and some new makeup. She's not perfect, but I love her.

[thats-cantorintuitive]

small update

ok so um I got my number theory paper today, and the TA had cut marks for me because i left the answer at 66^2 and not 4356 (fermat's little theorem) 😔 I even wrote the full proof

my friend told me I should mail the TA about this, I got 14/20 and should be getting 17or18/20 😔

scores aside, number theory is so much fun, so much fun. the only good thing here is that I know the concepts well, and I fully knew the paper (still fucked it up, because I'm so frickin slow while writing and time). and it hurts worse because there's not enough proof that validates my knowledge. which in turn makes me question if i actually do have any.

I am, in general, a person who does well in concepts but screws up the exams (70% of the time) and I'm trying, I'm trying to get myself out of this "exam paniK" that I often spiral into, just minutes before the exam. I hope I change and grow; I hope, I hope.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[littledes1re]

Hiii, i love your writing. Could you please do one where you and Joel just started dating. And maybe go to a little event or social gathering and he sees a lot of guys looking at you and talking to you and he gets jealous and sad. Thinking you deserve better, younger and he gets insecure. But you make sure he knows you love him. Thanks!!

My Old man

Warnings: Joel is insecure, Age gap!, lots of fluff!!!

It wasn't the first time he'd felt this way. Countless times when you two went out for dinner together or were invited to some event in Jackson, you were stared at. The staring was from young men who wanted to dance with you, who thought you were pretty, hot. But the other old men were staring too. And even the women. They spent the evening gossiping about how the hell you could have landed as a pretty young girl with an old geezer like Joel. Is he holding you hostage? Is he manipulating you? You'd heard it all.

But you never paid attention to this. You were happy with Joel, more than happy. All those other men in Jackson could never give you what Joel gives you.

But Joel still took it to heart.

The looks from others, the gossip. He knew this would happen after he held your hand and said he wanted to be with you. He had his doubts; he never thought you, a beautiful young woman, could ever love him. But you pushed those doubts away every time. You loved him more than anything in this world, and you showed him that, every day.

You saw his face. Pouting and eyebrows furrowed. Deep in thought. This event was a small dance, nothing serious. Joel didn't even want to go, but Maria insisted. Every time any of those men even glanced at you, he got jealous and had a sad face, that looked down on the ground, just thinking. You couldn't bear to look at it much longer.

"Maria, I'm sorry. I'm not feeling well, so Joel and I are leaving early."

You worried Joel with that. He immediately set off alarm bells and asked you if you were okay. When you got home, the questions continued, but you had something else on your mind.

“You mr.miller gonna sit down and we will have a little talk about something.” His face was all confused while you pushed him gently down to the couch, making him sit down.

You sat down on the coffee table in front of him, his sweet eyes never leaving you, like an obedient puppy.

“Baby. My old man. There is nothing in this world that I want more than you. And only you.” You could see his face drop and even heart drop at that.

He sighed into the room, looked at you with a certain exhaustion, and sadness. Uncertainty. "Don't look at me like that, Joel. I mean it, and you should know it."

"Sweetheart, I—I just don't know what you see in me. Heck, these guys that look at you are all fit, they can go with you to those stupid events without whining about their backs, can keep up with you and they don’t have a past.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. You sat up and gently sat down his lap, his cosy pullover hugging you just right.

“I can’t believe you think like that, joel. I don’t care about any of these guys. I don’t care about you ‘not being fit’ which is not true by the way—“ you stopped pointing at his crotch and winking, earning a chuckle from him.

“I don’t even want to go to these stupid events either, look— we went because of maria. Nothing more. Wanted to be home with my man and watch some stupid movies he loves so much.”

“Hey—they ain’t stupid.” He chuckled again.

“Yea yea, whatever. But this is what I really mean joel. Since I came to jackson you were the only one in my eyes. Didn’t care about your past, didn’t care about your back, didn’t care about the fact that you were grumpy—“

“Wait now you are putting extra things in there”

“Sh sh. Didn’t care about any other boys. I saw you and the way you handled things turned me on, your way of demanding, taking care of people, being so stubborn but also the kindest of them all. The one who came to my house because I skipped patrol one day and asked if I was okey.”

His sweet eyes turned glassy, as he held you on your hips and squeezed, letting out a little smile.

“You’re too good to me, baby.”

“Nah, it’s not being good, i’m telling the truth.” You nodded, gently stroking his hair, playing with his curls. “Of course, everything is going slower, of course there are things that you can’t actively do. But I love it just because of that. I enjoy slow evenings on the porch with you. I enjoy waking up late and drinking black coffee that tastes like poison—“ he let out a giggle.

“And I love your wood carvings, your handsome face, your white hair that suits you so much, that grumpy face you always make whenever you need to read something with your glasses.”

You looked into each other’s eyes, he leaned in and connected your lips.

“Can’t believe I have you, baby. My pretty girl.” He cupped your face softly, giving you a peck on your forehead.

“Promise me you are gonna stop having these thoughts about yourself.”

“Can’t really stop them, but I will try and do my best from letting them get me.” He whispered, nodding his head to you.

You put your forehead to his and looked into his beautiful brown eyes, the world around you going silent.

“I love you, joel.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Taglist: @vickie5446 @a-goose-on-mars @thatgirlmendo @ihearttdilfs @pickyeater13 @sweetiegirl16 @keseqna @shivispunk @kyloispunk @meetmeatyourworst @joelmillerswife9 @iveseenstrangerthings50 @idrkman @cuntyhunty22

[theorphicangel]

papa!kuna getting up on stage when his daughter has stage fright.

she's been excited about her solo for weeks now, the endless rehearsals in the front living room on an early saturday morning. you ran through her lines almost everyday and helped her recite the songs just before she fell asleep.

it had gotten to the point where sukuna was humming her recital song in his own fucking sleep. but anything to make his baby girl happy, right?

she had wanted everything to be perfect and was excited to impress her parents. the night before she had her outfit all ready and waiting on the chair beside her despite the recital not being until the next evening.

but now she stands under the headlights of the school stage with many eyes peering at her and the piano instrumental playing in the background.

you had your camera up and ready for her solo but suddenly you place it down once you realise your child has stage fright. her kindergarten teacher prompts her to start, replaying the chord but the words seem stuck in her throat.

you glance at sukuna with worry in your eyes and he glances back with his face deadpanned but you know he's panicking inside. your daughter fiddles with her hands becoming more anxious with every second passed on stage in complete silence.

it's one of the worst feelings to experience as a parent; the panic of not knowing what to do or how to comfort your child in a situation and to be honest your heart just breaks.

before your mind could even comprehend to go and pick up your daughter Sukuna stands up with urgency and walks over to the stage. the whispers and murmurs continue until you see your husband getting up on stage and joining your daughter.

he kneels down and whispers something in her ears before taking her hand. the two of them face the crowd and before you know it their lips begin to move in time with the piano instrumental.

your confusion melts into a smile once you realise that the sukuna ryomen is...singing. on stage in front of everyone. for his precious baby girl.

his voice is gruff compared to your daughter's sweet tone but he's in tune and on time with the lyrics. you had no idea he had learned the lyrics this well. the words came to him naturally with so much ease and perfect timing right and everything. he accompanies her throughout the whole song and you watch her pick up her confidence with her dad by her side.

they finish the song and the crowd of parents and kids on stage clap with cheers and whoops. and your husband and daughter take their well deserved bow. coming off stage sukuna is praised by all the parents out there, standing immediately and patting his back.

'i don't know what i would have done if it was my kid, good job out there'

'mr ryomen I didn't know you could sing'

'you two were great! you should be very proud of yourselves!'

they quickly find you through the crowd of parents reuniting with their own children and lift your daughter into a hug.

you kiss her chubby cheek and congratulate her for doing so well out there and she gives toothy smile, 'i couldn't have done it without papa.'

'that's true, my love.' you grin, 'but you did so well, m'so proud of you for being so brave.'

sukuna stands by awkwardly, a tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks as all eyes seem to be on him in the room. but he keeps his focus on his daughter and shuffles her pink hair, ' you did well brat.'

'thank you papa.'

after letting your daughter run off and wave goodbye to her friends for the night, you turn to sukuna with a grin.

'wow...I didn't know someone had a good singing voice.'

'yeah, yeah, just don't make a big deal about it.' he groans under his breath, a hand scratching the back of his neck.

‘mr popular huh’ you murmur, watching as parents continue to give their congratulations. 'don't let the fame rush to your head now, kuna'

'if she wasn't part of it i'd make you delete that goddamn video.'

you hum along, 'You know I'll rewatch it tonight.'

'whatever, knock yourself out.'

[eraserbread]

what abt postpartum reader x nanami who is insecure abt their sex abilities (?) after giving birth 🤔 like not feeling the same

you waited that six weeks like an obedient angel.

and, it was actually pretty fucking easy.

there's something about giving every second of your day and night to a crying newborn that pushes sex far, far back in your mind. right now, you're worried about nipple balm, diaper rash, milk temperatures, and the way kento's arms look when he's cradling his girl.

they're adorable, right now. kento's lying on the couch, book perched in his hands as his infant daughter rests on his chest. she's clingy to the bone, refusing to settle unless she's being touched by you or ken. at the end of the day, he knows you're exhausted with it, it's why he lets little rin snooze on his homey chest, memorizing the beat of his heart.

you gave birth six weeks ago to the day, and kento's been so enamored he hasn't even noticed. but, you have. you had a notification set in your phone for this day.

so when it's time to feed, burp, and rock rin to sleep, you're right on time, leaning down to scoop her from his chest.

"bedtime already?" kento hums, holding his book with one hand.

"getting close. i'm six weeks out, now. wanted to get her down pretty quickly."

he hums again, flipping his page and settling back. it's obvious he hasn't been keeping track. not that you could blame him, his postpartum hormones aren't totally out of whack like yours are.

you close your hands under rin's arms, watching her little face screw up in disturbance -- scrunching like a napkin. you coo, holding her tight to your chest so the maneuver is easier.

"oh, there's my girl," you whisper, letting your lips linger over her delicate head. kento sits up with a grunt, placing his book open-faced on the end of the couch.

“do you need anything from me before i lie down for the night?” he asks gently, in tune with his fatherly and husbandly duties more so now than ever before.

“yes.” you stop when you turn around, bouncing your daughter in your grip so she stays content. “take off all your clothes. wait for me right there.”

“it’s okay, just focus.” kento’s purring in your ear, two fingers crooked between your thighs.

sprawled out on the couch, back pressed to the cushion, completely naked, kento hovers over you. he treats you like a present needing to be unwrapped -- taking his time as he reintroduces his thick fingers to your overly-sensitive cunt.

and, though you can feel him in your bones, crying in pleasure, your body betrays you -- betrays him.

you're drier than a desert right now.

"i'm trying," you're begging for something -- anything. more kento, more focus, more need. your mind is flooded and overloaded. shame forms a sickly pit in the base of your stomach. "it feels good, just keep going."

kento's never doubted himself when it came to your sexual chemistry. he could usually just purr your name or shed his clothes, and you're dripping needy rivers between your legs. there was no force, no confusion.

right now, ken feels like he's forcing it.

"we don't have to do it tonight if you aren't feeling it."

"--no!" your eyes fly open, hands reaching to dig into his shoulder. you don't want him staring down at you anymore, you want him pressed to you. that way, he couldn't see the sad tears starting to pool in your vision. "no, I want it now. i can do it... let me- I can get wet for you again, baby. let me... i know I can."

you're babbling, saying anything to make this situation easier to swallow.

"i want you so bad, i swear-

"shh, i know." he's being so sweet, so gentle as his hand caresses the bulk of your thigh. you can feel just how painfully hard he is against you -- leaving a slick snail trail wherever his pretty cock passes over. "don't get yourself worked up -- here."

kento's repositioning himself, sitting tall and proud on his knees between your legs. his rippling torso shines in the dull lights, familiar gaze worried and loving.

he props your leg over his hip, leaning down to spit politely between your legs. the warm wetness pools at your labia, drawing down between your slit before two fingers are pushing it inside of you.

this time, with the wetness, it feels... familiar. good.

but, then he goes to press inside of you. you're confident, he's breathless.

and the baby monitor lights up; tiny infant cries scrambling through the receiver.

on a swivel, both of your heads turn to assess rin's circumstance in the black and white. she's kicking -- fussing as if it were her job. you're sighing, kento knows to get up and hand you back your clothes.

"there's always next time."

If you weren't so overwhelmed, embarrassed, and ashamed, perhaps you would agree. this time, you snatch your pants from his hand and seethe,

"shut up."

kento doesn't take it personally.

[luvrrszn]

messy

RAFE CAMERON x FEM READER (18+)

summary coming back from college, the last thing hookup!rafe expects to return to is rumours that you’ve been sleeping with jj

warnings angst, happy ending though!, lowkey miscommunication, all characters r of age !! brief jj x reader but that's just for the plot okay...

a/n ok stay with me now basically reader is 18 (graduated hs, but taking a gap year) and she's the same age as jj/john b/everyone else while rafe is 19 and was having his first year in college !! yo why did this idea lowkey come to me in a dream during a nap Zzzzzz and ooc kelce for this one my bad

masterlist

it was supposed to be a summer thing.

something fun, fleeting, memorable yet forgettable. a secret, of course, because rafe would never risk his reputation by being seen with a pogue, would he?

but the sneaking around was useless, everyone knew that something was happening between the two of you. well, everyone that mattered anyway. they saw the way his eyes lingered a second too long on you, how his grip tightened just a little when he led you through crowded rooms. they noticed how you always left parties together.

but none of that meant anything.

it's casual, it's just convenient.

that's what the both of you told anyone and everyone who asked.

that's what you kept telling yourself when you found yourself wanting more.

especially when rafe told you he was moving away for college.

—

at first, you waited.

you told yourself it was a polite thing to do, waiting for some time before getting with someone else.

but in reality, you were waiting before moving on, in hopes that you'd get a text from rafe, who was hundreds of miles away, a text that would change your relationship.

but it never came.

then the daily check-ins and "miss u babe" texts lessen in frequency.

you're lucky if you get a text once a week.

you think maybe he's just busy. give him the benefit of the doubt right? maybe he's still trying to cope with the new workload, or making new friends.

you're proved wrong when you click on topper's close friends' story on instagram.

weekend after weekend, rafe's clubbing, partying, with a different girl on his lap each time.

well, if he's clearly not bothered to text, why bother waiting?

—

and when he finally remembers that his sweet girl is waiting for him, you're not waiting anymore.

you don't even bother to open his texts.

why?

because you're too busy having fun with jj!

it's casual, fun, spontaneous with jj. you don't have to worry about being seen "too close" in public, it's just you and jj maybank having fun!

you party, go to the beach, hanging out with your friends. you surround yourself with your people, always making sure you're too busy to be thinking about rafe. you bury your feelings deep, and do anything you can to take your mind off of it.

having grown close to rafe's friends too, you go to parties on both figure eight and the cut, always with jj. and you make damn sure everyone sees.

you secretly hope rafe's friends tell him.

—

in the weeks that follow, you're too busy having fun fooling around and partying with jj to notice the text from rafe that tells you he's coming back for winter break.

—

"hey, you gotta hurry a lil if you wanna get some of the good booze before the kooks get 'em all!" jj yells at you from down the stairs.

"i'm coming, just wait!" you huff as you struggle with your earrings as you walk down the stairs. you had spent the night at sarah's just so you could get to the party down the street more easily.

when you get to the landing of the stairs, jj lets out a low whistle as you do a little spin. you're wearing a short sparkly skirt that barely covers anything, and a very low-cut black lace tank. remembering that it was rafe's favourite outfit of yours sends a pang of sadness through your chest, but you push it aside.

the moment you step out onto the street, you can already hear the loud music blasting from the house down the street. you and jj race down the road, and of course you win! (he let you win...)

"yo! see you brought your little dog with you today." kelce chuckles, handing you and jj a bottle of beer each as you two enter through the front door.

"hey, y'know i'm just playing. good to see you, maybank." kelce says, arms up in mock surrender once you glare at him. he winks at you, and then he disappears into the crowd.

after dancing for what felt like an eternity, you slip upstairs to the bathroom to get a bit of air and space.

when you finally push open the bathroom door, the muffled bass from the party instantly flooding back into your ears. the air is thick with smoke and spilled liquor, the dim hallway lights flickering unevenly. as you step out, adjusting your top, your breath catches in your throat.

there he is.

rafe fucking cameron, back from college, standing at the bottom of the stairs like he never left.

he's leaning against the wall, one hand lazily gripping a red solo cup, the other tucked into the pocket of his jeans. his gaze is already on you—intense, unreadable. the kind that makes your stomach flip in a way you wish it wouldn’t.

you immediately look around for an escape route and you realise you're fucked, with no way out except down the stairs, past him, and out the front door. when you finally refocus your gaze on rafe, he looks different, somehow. sharper. more tired. tall, so tall. you don't remember him being that tall.

but despite everything, he's still the same rafe—the same cocky tilt of his head, the same way he takes up too much space without even trying.

you force yourself to keep walking, gripping the wooden railing as you descend the stairs, ignoring the way your pulse pounds in your ears. you won’t give him the satisfaction of stopping.

but of course, rafe doesn’t let that happen.

the moment your foot touches the last step, his free hand curls around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. the grip isn’t tight, but it’s enough—enough to send a shiver up your spine, enough to remind you that he’s right here.

"didn’t think i’d see you here, bug," he drawls, voice thick with amusement. his fingers skim down your arm, lazy and deliberate. familiar. "heard you’ve been keeping yourself entertained while I was gone."

your plan worked. he'd heard about you and jj. but why on earth were you feeling like absolute shit?

you wriggle out of his grip.

"get out of my way, rafe." you grit out before darting through the crowd and out of the front door.

but he's hot on your tail. he's not letting you go, not this time.

he grabs your waist and spins you around, holding you in place this time, so you don’t slip away.

"don’t act like you care now, rafe. let me go." your voice is soft, pleading almost.

his smirk falters for half a second. but then, just like that, it’s back—only meaner this time.

"oh, but i do," he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "see, i come home after months away, and what do i hear?" he tilts his head, eyes dark. "that my girl has been playing house with a pogue?"

the way he calls you his girl doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you’re too angry to care.

"but that’s the thing, rafe! i am a pogue! i’ve always been, and that’s the issue you’ve always had! you’ve always been too ashamed of that, so why do you care about me now? you can’t move away and expect me to turn my life upside down for you once you get tired of college girls and come back to outer banks!"

and for a while, rafe is stunned. he’s never seen you this angry.

rafe’s jaw tightens. his grip on your hip flexes before he snatches his hand away, like your skin suddenly burns him. his smirk is long gone now, replaced by something darker—something stormy.

"that’s not—" he starts, but he stops himself, exhaling sharply through his nose. he drags a hand down his face, as if physically trying to pull himself together.

because you’re right. and he hates that.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of whatever he’s trying not to say. when he finally looks at you again, his eyes are sharp, frustrated.

"you think i don’t care?" his voice is lower now, rougher. "you think i came back and the first thing i did was find you because i don’t give a shit?"

you fold your arms over your chest, willing yourself to hold your ground. "i think you came back because you ran out of things to distract yourself with," you snap. "and now you’re just—what? picking up where you left off? you don’t get to do that, rafe."

before you can react, he pulls you into his chest. your enveloped by his familiar smell, his cologne, his shampoo. he has one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. his chin rests on the top of your head.

you don’t even notice you’ve started crying until you feel rafe’s grip tighten, his hand splaying against the small of your back like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"shh," he mutters, his breath warm against your hair. his voice has lost its usual edge, no more cocky drawl, no more sharpness. just rafe. just the boy who used to sneak into your room at night when he had nowhere else to go. just the boy who left, but still came back.

you try to push away, but he doesn’t let you—not completely. his hold loosens just enough for you to look up at him, your vision blurred with tears.

"you don’t get to do this," you whisper, voice shaking. "you don’t get to leave and come back like nothing happened. like i—like i didn’t—" you cut yourself off before the words spill out.

like i didn't matter

like i didn't miss you

like i didn't love you.

rafe stares at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. his thumb swipes gently over your cheek, catching a stray tear. the touch is so soft, so familiar, so cruel.

"you think i didn’t miss you?" his voice is hoarse now, strained, like he can’t believe you’d ever doubt it. "you think i wasn’t losing my fucking mind without you?"

your breath hitches.

when you finally regain your composure, you whisper, "you left for college, rafe. what was i supposed to do? wait around for you?"

rafe exhales sharply, shaking his head, "it's not about that. it's about you acting like you didn't care when i left—then immediately turning around and shacking up with jj!"

"you are mad that i didn't wait around for you!" you scoff incredulously.

you shake your head, scoffing again. "unbelievable." you turn to leave, trying to escape his embrace, because if you stay, you’ll say something you’ll regret. but before you can take a step, you're right back in rafe's arms again.

"i didn’t think i had to ask," he says quietly.

you freeze. his voice isn’t angry anymore—it’s something else, something raw, something that makes your chest ache.

"i thought you knew."

you swallow hard, refusing to look up at him. "knew what, rafe?"

he lets out a breath, tipping your chin up with his fingers so you look at him.

"that it was never just a summer thing for me."

rafe's confession leaves you breathless.

"and because i can’t stand watching you act like i don’t mean anything to you when i know that’s not true." he continues, voice softer, warmer.

your stomach twists. "you don’t know anything."

rafe steps closer, his hands settling lightly on your waist. "don’t i?" his voice is lower now, rougher. "you think i don’t notice the way you look at me? that i don’t feel it every time you’re near me?"

you shake your head, but your fingers have already found the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

"you’re full of shit."

"maybe." his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smirk, but there’s something softer in his expression. "but you still want me."

you hate that he’s right. you hate that no matter how mad you are, no matter how much you try to push him away, you still want him just as much as you always have.

and he knows it.

rafe leans in, his nose brushing against yours, giving you every opportunity to stop him.

you don’t.

the moment your lips meet, it’s over. the tension snaps, the anger dissolving into something hungrier, needier. his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you let him, let yourself melt into him like this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.

because maybe it is.

"so what now?" you whisper, voice somewhat uncertain.

rafe exhales a small laugh, shaking his head. "whatever you want."

you roll your eyes. "that’s not an answer."

"wow, i could feel you rolling your eyes."

he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "then here’s one: i want you. not just when it’s easy, not just when it’s convenient. i want you."

"no more sneaking around?"

"no more sneaking around." he smirks. "i’ll even let jj live."

you shove at his chest, laughing despite yourself, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the weight that’s been sitting in your chest lifts.

[freshbakedbreadstick]

Advantages and Disadvantages - Smoke x F! POC Coded! Reader x Stack BLURB - SINNERS (2025)

Smoke & Stack x F! POC coded! Reader

Summary: Thank goodness you got stuck with those two.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Reader uses she/her pronouns and is described to have a vagina. Reader's appearance is not mentioned, HOWEVER, I wrote this with women of color in mind!! NO SPOILERS! Mentions of vaginal fingering, dirty talk, probably out of character because I haven't seen the movie yet, dirty talk, reader is referenced to be a childhood friend of the twins, THREESOME, no incest between twins just sharing.

Word Count: 914 words (only a blurb sorryyy)

A/N: Wrote this while waiting for my delayed ass bus 😭 anyways it's unedited so I hope it's not so bad ! ! ! Anyways I need to watch this movie BADLY but I'm swamped in work rn 🙃 need the lord to throw me a bone and let me watch this movie ASAP I need it ! Enjoy !

Being childhood best friends to twins had its advantages and disadvantages, as all things do. But lately it seems like it's advantages were outweighing it's disadvantages...

It's disadvantages included always having two people teasing you whenever you knocked something over or fumbled your words when ranting about your day. It included being scared not once but twice in a day, the same familiar face yelling out "BOO!" as you rounded the corner, making your heart fall down to your toes. It also included having not one but two people to constantly worry for, including both in your nightly prayers and under your breath curses.

It's advantages included having four hands, two mouths, two dicks, and two very beautiful sights.

You don't know who to thank or praise for sending you these two, for borderline attaching them to you since you were a child, making you the three musketeers in every situation. Their names were synonymous with your own, constantly being seen as Smoke and Stack and You.

You were never alone, no, not since those two came into your life. It was hard to ignore them, you definitely tried in your teen years after vicious hormone infused arguments. It only ended with brown eyed gazes, soft touches, and gentle cooes being uttered, buttering you up until you couldn't ignore them any longer.

It was unbearable.

It was like, at this point, they knew everything about you and exactly what buttons to press to get you to do what they wanted. Like how to sweet talk you into giving them another dessert after helping make dinner with their mama, how to get you to avoid lecturing them after they came clean about something stupid they did, and how to make you cum the hardest.

You made a mental note to come back to this thought, whether them knowing you so well was an advantage or disadvantage, you could care less right now. All you could think about was how good it felt to have a large hand gripping both your wrists behind your back, the other hooked under your right leg, holding you up with firm arms. Another pair of hands was on you too, one hook under your left leg, holding you firmly against his body, as his other hand worked your pussy just right.

"Ohhhh fuckkkk," you garbled, eyes screwed shut and skin shiny under the light of the candles in the room. The feel of his thumb pressing right up against your clit, rubbing messy circles as his middle and index fingers plunged into your drooling cunt made your mind start to go blank.

"There she goes," Smoke cooed, voice rough with need as his hand worked you.

Stack groaned from behind you, rutting his hips gently into you, "I want a turn..."

Smoke bit his bottom lip, eyes moving from watching the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head down to where his hand moved between your shaking thighs.

"Not yet, brother," he purred, "Gotta make her cum at least one more time, then you can play with her all that you want..."

Stack chuckled, lips pressed against your ear, his hot breath making you shiver.

"Shit..." you hissed when Smoke's fingers curled at just the right spot.

"Ohhh," They said in unison, eyes widening, sporting matching grins.

Your hips bucked, chest heaving as you let your head fall back against Stack's shoulder. He cooed, pressing his lips against your skin. He bit you gently, sucking before pulling back to kitten lick an apology onto the growing mark.

"Shit baby," Smoke murmured, admiring your cunt, "This pussy squeezes my fingers so well..."

Forget replying, the words couldn't even find your tongue with how foggy your head was. The only thing keeping you grounded was the slick, wet noises echoing the room as Smoke's fingers worked you closer and closer to coming.

"Oh babydoll, you close?" Stack whispered into your ear, eye gazing down to where your cunt drooled over his twin's fingers.

"Mmm look good enough to eat..."

You couldn't even tell who said that at this point, too lost in the feeling of the swelling in your belly, the pleasure climbing to its peak.

"Wanna cum," you managed to slur out between gasps, sweet sweet oxygen barely making it into your lungs with every quick breath.

"Oh she wants to cum...?" Stack chuckled, "You hear that? She wants it so bad..."

His teasing tone made you buck your hips, feeling his hand splayed against your thigh grip a little harder. Smoke was quiet, focused as his brother whispered teases into your ear, your head lolling to the side.

"Need it bad, baby? Can't handle a couple more minutes? Wanna cum all over my brother's fingers? Gonna let me lick that pussy up after?" you hated how smug he sounded.

Your bleary eyes managed to open to see Smoke in front of you, brows furrowed and lips parted as his hand moved. His gaze slowly swept up over you, locking with your own. It made you gasp the way you saw his pupils blown so large, eyes dark as his own chest rose and fell quickly.

"Let go for me baby," he muttered, "Need to feel you cum for me, need to see you..."

Stack continued his whispers between chuckles and bites of your neck, taking the sensitive skin between his teeth to mark his spot.

Okay so there definitely was more advantages than disadvantages to this "friendship".

[goldweaverr]

WELL FINE THEN SINCE THE MYDEI X READER TAG IS GONNA STAY THIS DRY, IM GONNA CONTRIBUTE TO IT MYSELF !!!!!! (No spoilers mentioned!! But MDNI there's nsfw)

I've seen possessive Mydei x reader, aggressive Mydei x reader, cocky Mydei x reader, etc, and while all of those are absolutely yummy and very much welcomed, consider the following flavor I'm offering; absolutely desperate Mydei.

Look. Based on everything we've seen of him so far, he definitely has not had opportunities for dating or romance or sex. He doesn't seem like the type to deem these things as silly, stupid, or hindrances that will block his path, but he likely believes they simply have no place in his life. His journey and destiny aren't ones that give him much room to go out, meet people, befriend them, grow to like them, court them, date them, sleep with them, marry them, and so on. That sounds like an entirely foreign concept to him. The furthest his social circle extends to is fellow Chrysos Heirs that the prophecy has placed alongside him as comrades, and the most miraculous extention it ever received was when the two outsiders came into Amphoreus. He certainly would never pursue a fellow Chrysos Heir romantically, as that's entirely unprofessional and could lead to jeopardizing their team dynamic which there is absolutely no room for! So he has resigned to the fact that he will simply be alone for the whole of his immortal life. And that's fine. Okay, maybe not ENTIRELY fine. He does feel like he'd fine the idea appealing, even if only for a flicker of a moment. But those thoughts are anchors that will weight him down. He's got way more important matters at hand. Okhema's safety, the prophecy, the people of his kingdom, Nikador, the outsiders who arrived from beyond the sky, hell even his fellow Chrysos Heirs such as Phainon or the Tribios. So those desires are ones that will be buried alongside many other hopes and wishes he had, but are no longer necessary. He will survive without love, he will be just fine without the touch of another, he will emerge victorious without the need of a congratulatory kiss, he doesn't need these things. They're privileges, not rights.

That is, until, he does meet someone. You.

Perhaps you're a fellow Chrysos Heir. Perhaps you're also one of the outsiders from beyond the sky. Perhaps you're a regular citizen in Okhema. Anything is possible. The occupation or role doesn't matter, what matters is that he finally meets someone who makes it feel like these things ARE necessary and he cannot possibly deny himself of them any longer.

He tries. He tries very hard. Tries avoiding you, tries scaring you off, tries not showing you much interest, tries to let you know without needing to use any words that he's no good for you. You don't know what you'd be getting into with him. But yet you persist. You're just too annoying. Sometimes you flirt, sometimes you tease, sometimes you worry, sometimes it's pure kindness. Whatever your intentions are for the day, they stress him.

Watching him train in the arena when it's entirely empty and then all he hears after destroying every training equipment around him is you clapping, the sound echoing across the empty seats where spectators would usually sit and down to his ears, that are beginning to turn suspiciously red. Coming down to praise him in person, telling him how absolutely attractive it was to watch the great Mydeimos unleash all that pent up rage. And he doesn't know what to do with the moment between the two of you. Running your index finger down his exposed, sweaty chest. Your nail scratching so, so slightly yet so deliciously over his searing hot skin making his breathing pick up the pace under your excruciatingly slow drag, until you reach his pants. You don't break eye contact with him, playful gaze challenging him with mirth. His expression can't be described in the same way. In fact it can hardly be described at all. A strange mixture of want, desire, anger, embarrassment, shyness, happiness, yearning. Whatever emotions you can imagine, you could probably locate somewhere on his face. But one thing remains. It's red. And he stands more stiff than any statue you've seen around the city. You remove your finger just as he was debating making a move forward and walk away, leaving him with way too many thoughts in his head that are making him angry. The anger he can't take out on training dummies. And that makes him even angrier. What a cycle.

He can't get you off of his mind.

Every meeting, you're throwing him glances to catch him staring. He's embarrassed, you smirk. Every time you run into him, there's some teasing remark already on your tongue, a gun ready to fire. He never has a response. Which sucks, because he should be used to this stuff with how much Phainon runs his mouth. But with you, it's different. With Phainon, they tease each other out of the love two friends share. With you, the feeling is entirely different. He can't treat you the same way he treats his friend, because he's not viewing you the same way he views his friend. And that's a scary thought. You've cemented yourself an entirely different category in his heart. Oh, how he hates it. But oh, how he wishes to explore more.

He doesn't think you make him weak. If anything, you make him stronger. It takes strength to face your feelings, it takes strength to tackle desires you've kept buried. Ones you claimed were unnecessary and unneeded. It takes strength to admit that he now has something else he wishes to protect. And he feels like if after a hard battle, he could unwind by laying his head against your chest and falling asleep to the feeling of your fingers in his hair, he'll face his next opponent with so much more power than what his lonely heart usually carries. And he'll face his enemies with a desire to return unscathed, not to battle to the death he will never reach anyway. That takes strength. Strength if he claimed he didn't have in him, he'd be announcing himself weak. He's fought his entire life, matters of the heart isn't where he will surrender. Hell, the last straw may have been watching his terrifying and courageous and powerful lion companion curl into you and purr up a storm. That was just purely offensive. There goes what was left of the Kremnos honor.

But since he will inevitably claim his throne, his people will expect someone else to rule alongside him, wouldn't they? Would they not expect heirs? He cares too much about the honor of his family name to let it die with him. (Even though it literally can't)

So when your teasing gets the better of him again, and it ends with you against the wall, you expected anything out of him. Anger, rage, annoyance, utter domination, demands only a crown prince has the rights to give, anything. But not desperation. Not inexperience. Not a look in his eyes that's full of _*yearning*_ . He wants you so bad it makes him look stupid. People call Phainon a golden retriever boy too much, this one might take the crown actually (Haha)

He stares at your eyes, with a glimmer in his. He stares at your lips, yearning to feel them. It's his first kiss. He knows he'll be clumsy. He knows he'll be inexperienced. He knows it might be embarrassing. But he wants it more than anything right now. His chest heaving slightly, picking up gradually. His hot breath on your face, from his nose and his parted lips. His gaze more intense than the lance of fury's flames. A bead of sweat down his forehead. You lean in closer, encouraging him. Your jaw is grabbed suddenly with cold and sharp armor as lips immediately crash onto yours. A mess of teeth and aggressive kissing and spit and a tongue that doesn't know what it's supposed to be doing and lip bites that may not have been well calculated in terms of pain. This first kiss was a mess, but how passionate it was. How much desire was poured into it. He's not entirely clueless. He's read books, stories. He's heard stories. He knows how it's supposed to go. Not how good it was supposed to feel. You don't want to part away, even as you try to slowly guide him into a less frantic rhythm. Gently leading the way, enough to not scare him off by taking the lead above him. You let him be in control. You know he feels far too vulnerable in the current moment. His body may be reacting off of desire, but his heart is weak and afraid. This moment, despite it's violence, is fragile.

Kissing, and kissing, and so much kissing later, kissing that eventually finds it's rhythm. Kissing that eventually flows like a river. Kissing that ignites a flame of ... Happiness in his heart where fear was beginning to eat away at it. His hand no longer on your jaw, now buried in your hair, holding the back of your head to keep your lips on his. The other arm wrapped around your waist holding your body flush against him. Your arms wrapped around his torso, happy to let his strength carry you as you feel more and more limp. He never knew kissing could be so fun. So romantic. So nice . He could get used to this.

A hand trails lower. His, or yours? It doesn't matter. Clothes are off rather quickly. He's desperate. So desperate.

He prepares you thoroughly. His fingers stretching you to the point of overstimulation. It was not his intention, they've simply been inside you so long that they've gotten to that point. He swears he's only getting you ready properly so you don't get hurt taking his size. He doesn't even say it in any cocky tone, his intention isn't to brag, he's just being honest. He's big, you're not. You'll get hurt. He doesn't want to hurt you. Ever. He loves you. He probably isn't even fully aware how much he's pushing you to the edge, but he does see you grow more and more desperate. Your nails digging into his biceps, and it excites him even more. Burying your head into the space between his neck and shoulders, whining out his name weakly, begging to put it in you already, and it drives him crazy. He's heard his name said in so many different ways. A roar that announces the start of a battle. A cry for help. The pride of his people. The teasing of his friend. The disdain of those who loathe him. The begging for mercy. The casual conversation starter. The acknowledgement of authority. So many different sounds they no longer mean anything to him. But this? This is new. And he likes it. He likes it so much. No tone spoken of his name causes him reaction anymore, but this one lit him on fire. He wants to hear more of it. He wants to hear it all night long.

He doesn't wear much to begin with. But he never feels exposed or vulnerable. His armor is a separator between himself and danger. Shedding off that armor with another person to allow himself into such a weak position felt terrifying, but currently, sinking deep into your warmth, it's never felt safer. A cry of his name spilling from your lips like a prayer, he doesn't even recall people calling Kephale's name with this much worship. And he melts. Figures he could do this forever. How did he ever go on without this?

His rhythm is sloppy, he's not even entirely sure how to set one. He's operating off of something primal right now, all he can do is fuck in and out of the heat that's swallowing him whole. He couldn't stop if he tried, body moving on its own. He stares in awe at where you two connect, watching the repetitive motion with no sign of getting used to it anytime soon. He doesn't even realize — or maybe doesn't even care — about the noises coming out of him. Why should he bother holding back his pleasure? He's never felt anything like this, and it's so thrilling, so exciting, so full of pleasure, that he doesn't care about his image or his behavior at the moment. He gasps, and pants, and breathes heavily, and grunts, and groans, completely overtaken with lust. And that's the dance you two shared throughout the duration of the entire night. Although the sun never stops shining in Okhema.

Mydei is a fast learner, and eventually establishes a rhythm for how he does things. From kissing romantically, to fucking into you relentlessly. But it certainly doesn't come easy, not without many, many more demonstrations first <3

[d3vilcvntz]

(top male reader x older bottom character)

being a sugar baby to an older man but you're the top >>>

you're so much younger and so much smaller than him. he's literally towering above you whenever you guys are together. people will always assume that he's the top in your relationship.

you are not even struggling with money, you're doing this just because you can. i mean, who doesn't want a handsome man taking care of you and pampering you with money everyday ?

you met him when you were scrolling through a dating app, seeing his profile that barely shows his face. he did messaged you first, asking to meet up if you're free and you agreed. you lowkey expected someone ugly to come but you don't even care at this point, anything for a thousand dollars i guess. you were so glad that you were wrong when you actually saw him face to face. for someone his age, he's really attractive.

you guys constantly meet up after that, just going on dates anytime you're both free. he paid for everything though, you did offered to pay sometimes but he always refused it. it was just casual until you both went drinking one day, getting so drunk that he ended up getting pounded by you that night. you were scared that everything will end here and you'll never see him again

but the next day, he offered you a position. you'll be his personal dildo and he'll pamper you with money everyday. this is like the best offer you've ever received. sex with someone as attractive as him and getting paid at the same time ? fuck yeah

at this point, most of your friends knew about this relationship as you literally started wearing expensive clothes and saying that you're busy anytime your friends asked to hangout. they sometimes asked the reasons why you can't hangout with them and you'll just says that you have something important to do at night. you weren't exactly lying though

pushing his head into the pillow, grabbing his hips so roughly that it leave marks behind. his hole tightly clamped into your cock, you leaned closer to him "it's so funny how everyone think you're the top" you whispered to his ear "when you're literally getting fucked like a whore everynight" you continued, pulling your cock out of his hole.

he turns to look at you right away, whimpering, feeling empty as his hole clenched on nothing "please...don't pull it out" he begged so sweetly, tears running down his face. you smiled at him, grabbing his arm to turned his body to you so you can see him completely. it caught him off guard as you'll always do it from behind "i wanna see your face while i ruined you tonight" you said, your hand reached out and touched his face, wiping his tears away. leaning towards him to kiss his swollen lips

you slide your cock inside of him again, pulling away from the kiss and slowly speeding up your pace. his hands grabbed the sheets, mouth agape with sweets sounds coming out of it. his poor useless cock bouncing everytime you thrusts into him, just leaking precum all over his stomach "i..want to- ah! cum.. i want to cum~!" he repeated, looking at your face for approval. you smiled at him, nodding your head as your hand reached out to touch his cock. teasing the tip before pumping it roughly

he came first, his eyes roll back as the white liquid spurt all over his stomach and your hand. you slammed your cock so deep inside of him as you release your load in him.

falling asleep and waking up the next day to him being gone from your side. only leaving money on the nightstand. you sighed and took the money. sitting on the edge of the bed, getting ready to go through your day like usual. dont worry, you'll see him again tonight.

[postracehair]

fracture

max verstappen x reader | 3.5k

max breaks his wrist during the first week of the off-season.

cw: max breaks his arm, r is a bit rattled, some blood, a naked shower, intimacy, mentions of sex

a/n: c'mon. you know he'd be so annoying. good thing we love him. [i wrote this before the season ended and then...never posted it. so, here, have it before we start all this shit over again in a few weeks.]

__

You are not there when it happens.

You're asleep, actually, curled up on Max's couch with the cats while he enjoys the first week of the off-season. The celebrations have ended and there is a great deal of work to be done in the next few months, but everyone gets a little bit of respite.

Vacation will come after the holidays. That's the plan, anyway. The last few days have seen you in Monaco, mostly inside Max's place. Just spending time together, relaxing, watching movies, rumpling his sheets. Today, though, he and Danny decided to go on a world-class-athlete-level bike ride.

Which is why you're on the couch. They've been gone all day and you don't expect Max to get home until later. You ran errands, cleaned a little, and then took an afternoon nap.

As you rouse from it, you fumble for your phone to check the time. The screen lights up and you're greeted with --

35 texts. 4 missed calls.

"What the hell?" you mutter, sitting up and opening everything.

DR: sorry for the three calls don't freak out but i think max broke his arm

DR: he says you're probably napping but i'm going to document this for when you wake up

DR: he's fine but yeah that shit is fucked

DR: he says not to tell you he fell off his bike but he fell off his bike

DR: he braked for some animal in the road and went over his handlebars

DR: oh he also scraped his face but he's still pretty, don't worry

DR: his palms are fucked though which is why he's not texting you

DR: we're on the way to the hospital, btw

DR: you're gonna be so pissed when you wake up

It goes on like that. Daniel, to his credit, has given you a play-by-play of the whole situation. You've only been asleep for about an hour and based on the time stamps this started right after you fell asleep.

You get up as you read, grabbing your things and trying to find your shoes as you read. You need to -- you need to go and be wherever they are. You need to help. Heart racing, chest tight, you need to be near Max as soon as possible, even though Danny said he's okay. If this was you, Max would already be there. God, why did you take a nap?

According to the texts, they got to the hospital and he was seen immedietly, x-rayed, and bandaged up. Broken right wrist, Danny had said. He's pissed more than anything.

You're about to call him back when your phone rings in your hands.

"Danny," you say as soon as you accept it.

"Oh, thank fuck," Daniel exclaims. "I thought I was going to have to surprise you in person with the whole thing."

"I'm about to leave, just give me 15 minutes to get there--"

"No, no, no," he interrupts you. "He just got discharged. I'm bringing him home."

You stop in your tracks, one foot shoved halfway into your sneaker. "Really?"

"Yeah, we'll be there in like, 20 minutes?" You can hear Max saying something in the background. "He wants to talk to you," Danny sighs. "Mate, you'll see her soon--"

He's cut off and there's some muffled noises and then Max is saying your name.

"I'm fine," he says. "I only made him tell you so it wasn't a surprise when I came home."

"Max," you sigh, shoulders creeping away from your ears at the sound of his voice. "I'm so sorry, I was asleep!"

He laughs. You feel a bit weepy, which is both an overreaction and cathartic. "Good," he says. "The whole experience has been a pain in the ass."

"You're coming home now? Are you in pain?"

"Eh," he says, dragging out the sound. "They gave me something while they set it so I don't feel it much. Daniel says we'll be home soon. Oh, hold on --" There is some muttering, Danny's voice in the background. "Okay, I'm going to give you back. See you soon, liefje."

"Okay," you say softly.

"Be there in a flash!" Danny says brightly. "Seriously, don't worry."

You hang up and just stand in the hallway, at a loss. Something bad happened to Max and you weren't there. It feels wrong. Not that he's in poor hands with Danny -- quite the opposite. He's probably the only person aside from yourself that you'd want there for Max in a crisis. But, god. You wish you had been there.

The cats weave around your ankles as you pace, waiting for Danny to call or for the door to open or, anything at all to happen. Your mind is running a million miles a minute. Objectively, it's the best time for Max to break something. There isn't even a car for him to test right now and he had at least another week of time off before needing to go back to Milton Keynes. This might throw a wrench in your holiday plans but you couldn't care less about that. How long will he be in a cast? You assume he's in a cast. What kind of help will he need? Will you be enough to provide it? What if he --

Noises in the hall make you freeze and then you hear Danny's voice. You bolt to the door, unlatching the locks and pulling it open. You're greeted with the sight of the two of them -- Danny looking down at Max's keys in his hands, both of their backpacks on his back. They've both changed out of whatever ridiculous bike outfit they must have been wearing for the ride, but you devote your attention to your boyfriend.

You can see the bandages on Max's knees and forearms where he must have scraped himself up on the road. His wrist -- it's in a black cast that runs the length of his forearm. He cradles it to his chest in a sling they must have given him and then you make your way to his face. A few scratches along one cheek, hair a mess, mouth drawn into a frown. A frown that relaxes slightly when you meet his gaze. Your eyes well with tears.

"Max," you breathe. He steps in front of Danny and meets you in the doorway, his cast-free hand cupping your face through the bandages on his palm.

"I'm fine," he says. "You're looking at me like I'm in a coma."

"Sorry," you whisper. "I just --"

He tugs you to him gently, pressing your face into his neck and rubbing your back. You try to be careful of his arm as you breathe deep and will yourself not to actually lose it.

"Guys, can we at least go inside?" Danny asks.

Max huffs and you pull away. He drags his thumb under both of your eyes but doesn't comment on the dampness he finds there. "Inside, liefje."

Danny drops Max's stuff and passes along the documents from the hospital. He's quite the personality but he's all business when he needs to be. "Pain killers in his bag. Call me if you need anything, guys."

You step away from Max long enough to throw your arms around Danny. "Thank you," you whisper. "For looking after him." For calling. For bringing him back to me. For doing what I should have been there for.

He chuckles. "Alright," he says. "Max should break something more often."

Once Danny leaves, it's just the two of you. Max has settled on the couch, head leaning back into the cushions.

"Come sit with me," Max calls. "God, I forgot how much I hate hospitals."

His eyes are closed and he holds his arm gingerly. It's not the first time you've seen him injured -- you've been at his side in the medical tent before after watching him careen into a wall at 190mph. And yet, right now, you're still so upset.

You settle into the cushions on his left side and just watch him.

"I'm sorry," you say again. Max's eyes open. "I can't believe I was asleep when Danny called."

Max shakes his head. "What would you have done?"

"I could have come to get you and take you to the hospital, or just met you there, or--"

He puts his hand on your knee. "Come on," he says. "Don't be silly."

How do you explain it to him? How do you tell him that something happening to him feels like it happened to you? That not being there feels like a personal failing?

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He sighs and you pull his palm from your leg to hold it in your hands.

"It's stupid," he grimaces. "You don't need the details."

"Max."

He folds. Other people in his life have called this your superpower -- Max's will is iron clad. It is very difficult to get him to do something he does not want to do. But one word from you, one soft look, one gentle touch, and he often relents. It's like you can peel back that layer of him that has hardened out of necessity. To protect himself and his heart, to make sure he's taken seriously, to stop things from hurting.

It's like you remind him that it's okay to feel, even when it's hard.

"Daniel summed it up," he grumbles. "We were biking down a hill outside the city and something ran out into the road in front of me. I stopped. Or tried to, at least." He mimes squeezing the breaks, fingers curling in towards his bandaged palms. You stroke his unbroken wrist with your thumb.

"And you went over," you finish.

"And I went over. Got my knees, my forearms, my hands. My wrist, obviously. Just landed badly."

You reach for his face ever so gently, dragging the pad of your thumb over the shallow scrapes on his chin, his cheek. He allows it, knowing that you need to touch him to be sure he's okay. Whenever he has a crash on track you have trouble letting him out of your sight for hours. You just need to look at him, feel him warm and alive under your hands.

"I'm going to write a letter to your helmet manufacturer," you say, not entirely kidding. You slide your hand over his temple and into his hair. It's dirty, you can feel it, but you cradle his skull all the same. "Thank them."

He laughs once, amused with your sincerity. "I need to shower," he says. "But I can't get this wet." You finally direct your attention to his broken wrist, the entirety of his forearm and hand encased in the cast under the sling.

"Does it hurt?" you ask again. Max would tell anyone else off for badgering him so, but he keeps his face soft and reassures you.

"It's strange," he says. "I'm sure I'll feel it later."

"Did it hurt?" you whisper. "When you broke it?"

You know that Max has felt a great deal of pain in his life. His day job requires it -- physical, mental, emotional. He knows how to handle it and get over it. But he's also honest with you, always.

He wrinkles his nose. "It wasn't nice," he confesses. "I knew right away."

You grimace. In the silence, you match your breaths to his and just sit together for a little while.

And then Max's stomach growls.

"Whoops," he says, grinning crookedly. Still an athlete, still a boy with a fast metabolism. You can't help but laugh.

"How about this," you begin, unfolding yourself from the couch and standing in front of him, hands on your hips. Max looks up at you like you're the best thing he's ever seen. "I order some food and then we get you showered while we wait for it. Let the scrapes breathe and keep your cast dry, then we eat and watch a movie and go to bed. Okay?"

"We get me showered?" He sounds skeptical.

"You think you can wash your hair on your own?"

He smirks. "I can do a lot with one hand."

You roll your eyes. "So you're turning down an opportunity to shower with me, is what I'm hearing."

Max gets himself off the couch and rests his palm on your hip. "No," he says softly. "I'm not that stupid."

He kisses you lightly and heads for the bathroom.

"I guess we can wrap it in a plastic bag, or something?" you call after him. It takes a few minutes of opening and closing cabinets for you to find one. You put in a delivery order and make your way to the bathroom. Max has already turned on the shower and you find him shirtless and peeling off his bandages in in front of the mirror.

"Let me do that." He doesn't put up much of a fight, not even wincing when the tape pull at his skin. You see the gashes on his forearm, the raw skin of his palms. "Arm, please." The plastic bag goes around his cast and you tie it at his elbow.

"You planning to wash my hair while wearing your clothes?" Max asks with a straight face.

You stare at him, trying to seem unimpressed. He breaks first, mouth pulling up at one corner before he shucks off his soft shorts and briefs in one go. He pecks you on the cheek and gets in the shower, still smirking at you through the glass door.

"Alright, alright," you mutter. "So dramatic."

You feel Max's eyes on you as you undress, leaving your clothes on a pile on the floor.

The shower is unnecessarily big but Max does not give you much space. The hot spray is at his back and he keeps his plastic bag-clad arm mostly out of the way.

"Feel good?" you ask. Max sighs but nods. You'll bet he's aching but hasn't admitted it. He turns to the side so you can catch some of the spray, too, fighting off the chill outside the warm water.

"I might fall asleep in here," he mutters.

"That'll be the painkillers, darling," you tell him. "C'mon, get your hair wet."

Max tips his head back. You readjust so that you can card your hands through it. You shampoo him gently, taking your time and massaging his scalp. It's a miracle he stays on his feet, but he does. You hum as you work and Max's breaths get deeper, slower.

"Head back," you say softly. He obeys. You do the same with some of your conditioner because you know he likes how it smells.

This shower feels more intimate than the countless hours you've spend in his bed, tangled up in one another. He's been inside you and yet this feels more vulnerable. He's totally ceding control, trusting you to take care of him. You're naked, slick bodies brushing, always touching whether it's your hands in his hair or Max's own fingers reaching for your skin just to feel.

One time, when you were sick, you couldn't muster the energy to take a shower. Max ran you a bath and washed your hair for you, talking all the while because you asked to hear his voice. It's obvious that you'd do the same for him, as you're doing now. It's just how you love each other -- all the way, all the time. When it's easy and when it's hard.

"Danny was right," Max says, words slurring half from bliss and half the fatigue of the day catching up to him. "I should break bones more often."

You finish rinsing him and just stand there in the spray for a few moments.

"Please, no," you groan, brushing wet strands back from his forehead. "If you want me to wash your hair I will, Max. You don't need to break anything."

His eyes flutter open and find yours. He smiles lazily and you turn off the shower.

"If you say so," he says. "Can we take this off, now?"

Bag removed, skin patted dry, comifes on. The food comes when you're settling Max on the couch with a pillow for his arm. In all likelihood he'll manage a few bites of take out and fall asleep 15 minutes into the movie. But he needs the rest, you think. And besides, he'll have you to watch over him.

__

It becomes clear remarkably quickly that Max is an awful patient. You sort of knew this -- he's been sick a few times when you're around, but you figured that was just man-disease. Whining, refusing to sit still. This is 10x worse. He won't let you do anything for him until he's proven that he can't do it himself. You consider locking him in your bedroom to keep him from trying to do things he shouldn't do.

Max just wasn't made to sit still.

But you can empathize -- it's frustrating to not be able to do any of the things he really likes to do. Drive, use his sim, even play regular video games. It's a lot of movies and long walks and leg days with his trainer.

And then there's the way he just won't ask for help. That's a Max Verstappen original and you know it gets worse when he's frustrated. You do it too -- everyone does. But Max wants to do everything himself, wants to prove that he can.

You try to sit back and let him work it out. About a week after he comes home with his arm in a cast, he calls your name. You're in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge and wondering if you should order more groceries or just go to the shops yourself.

"You okay?" you call back. "Where are you?"

"Bathroom,"he shouts.

Ah, you think. Here we go.

He hasn't shaved yet. You've always loved when he keeps his facial hair a little longer. You love the feel of it on your skin and how it lightens along with his hair when you're on holiday somewhere nice. It's more likely that he keep it long in the off-season. Hot races are a nightmare with a beard, he's said. It itches like mad.

"Coming," you call.

Sure enough, you find him in front of the sink, razor in hand and frown firmly in place. He makes eye contact with you in the mirror and even though you can feel his annoyance from here, the set of his jaw softens.

"Do you think you could help me shave?" he asks. No lead up, no hem and haw.

"Of course, Max."

You quickly work out that sitting on the counter next to the sink while he stands between your knees works best. His broken wrist hangs at his side, the other hand resting on the counter next to your leg.

You lather him up, carefully applying the white foam of his shaving cream on his cheeks, his chin, his neck. He's got a fancy razor, one that will probably make it hard to cut him. Still, you feel the way he's basically handed you a blade and asked you to use it on him. In so many ways it's one of the most intimate things you've ever done. Even more than the showers you've had this week, just chatting and washing his hair.

"I'll be careful," you say softly.

"I know." He tilts his chin up, showing you his neck. "Go on, then."

It's quiet work. You're focusing hard and Max seems content to allow you. Stroke after stroke, rinsing the razor in the sink. You keep one hand at the base of this throat as the other works, gliding it over his skin. Cheeks, jaw, upper lip. Chin, neck.

"I like your beard, you know," you say when you're almost done. He waits until you're rinsing the razor again to reply.

"I do," he says, smirking. "You aren't quiet about it."

The last patch comes off as easily as the rest and you grab a damp towel to clean the rest of the shaving cream. Max appears to have relaxed enough to become pliant, leaning into your touch as you finish. He lets you rub moisturizer into his cheeks, eyes fluttering closed. His hand ends up on your leg, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh.

"Cheeky," you mutter. He smiles, boyish and easy. You take your time, pleased that he's letting you, but also because you could touch him forever. "Schatje," you whisper, trying to make it sound like it does from his lips. "All done."

Max doesn't move. You frame his face with your hands and lean in until your lips touch. You feel his smile against yours, but he dutifully tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His freshly shaved skin is so soft. You've kissed thousands of times by now, but you can never get enough of him. The way he responds to your every move, meeting your pressure with some of his own. Your tongue with his, swallowing your moans and giving you his own like a gift.

It's Max who pulls away, dragging his lips over your cheek.

"Dankje," he whispers. It means more than that, you know. From Max, it means thank you for dealing with me, for taking care of me, for loving me.

He doesn't think any of that is easy for you. But he's wrong. It's the easiest thing in the world.