#yes I'm a basic bitch ha

[comfortableinthesilence]

Nothing like a big bowl of pasta with cheese, chilling on my bed while binging Suits on Netflix 😍❤️‍🔥😅

[irritablepoe]

I WANT SOMEONE TO LOVE ME. I want someone to casually sit beside me and nudge me every now and then to get my attention. I want someone to pull me into a side-hug because they've been laughing about a joke of someone and want to share that joy with me. I want someone to carefully take my hand into theirs and look at my fingers or perhaps the lines on my hand just because they can. I want someone to look at me absentmindedly while they're thinking of something. I want someone to sit quietly beside me when I'm feeling down and just take my hand and squeeze it to tell me I'm not alone anymore.

[victorluvsalice]

-->So it was back home for the trio, where Victor fed Toothy AGAIN (hungry hungry cowplant), while Smiler went to sell the painting they’d made earlier and Alice sniffed around and had a scavenge, finding some literalite (a rare, very-cool-looking purple metal) –

Before heading to the jewelry-making bench to make her first set of jewelry! I decided to keep things basic for her first piece – quite literally, in fact, as the simplest set of jewelry you can make is the “Basic” set. XD I thus had her make a Basic metal bracelet out of the silver she’d picked up on her travels – I didn’t want to mess with anything more elaborate, in case it ended up botched (and thus couldn't be charged later on the crystal grid). Fortunately it didn’t, and she ended up with both an excellent-quality metal-wrap bracelet and Gemology skill 2. :D Maybe next time we’ll try something with a crystal in it!

-->As for Victor and Smiler – well, Smiler was feeling rather flirty after getting a message from a friend about a successful date she’d had, and Victor was full of confidence from having his familiar and getting a new spell. So, while Alice was making her jewelry, I had Victor go give Smiler a suave kiss, and sent them upstairs to Victor and Alice’s bedroom...

For a pillow fight! XD Okay, I was looking for the “Bed Makeout” interaction you get with the Cute Romance mod, but when I saw that I was like “I have never tried that and it seems like the kind of thing Smiler at least would do.” XD So yes, they went upstairs and promptly started thwapping each other with pillows until Victor ended up yielding to Smiler’s superior pillow skills. THEN they went ahead and had a bed makeout session (the interaction’s actually under the “romance” category when you click on a Sim – “Physical Affection,” natch). XD Once they’d had their fun, Smiler went to have a bath in their nice tub, while Victor dismissed Darkwing (who was probably like "can you dismiss me before you get frisky next time?") before heading down to his cauldron to do some experimenting. Alice finished up her bracelet while he was doing that and headed upstairs to resume writing her latest book, “Who Stole The Tarts” (on Smiler’s computer, of course), while Smiler headed downstairs to fix a wind turbine before going to chat with Victor and see how his experimenting was coming...

And that is where I left them, as it was getting a bit late and it was officially past midnight in the game. XD Whew – busy day, but a fun one! I am getting into them traveling around the various worlds in the game with their food stand and selling all sorts treats – it’s good gameplay, and makes sure I get them out of the house on the regular. XD Though speaking of their house, I’m starting to wonder if it’s time to revamp their lot...or perhaps move altogether. I like their little farm, but I don’t know if it really has the space for everything I want to do there. At the very least, it would be nice to add a basement for the nectar-making and aging...I’ll have to think about this some more!

However, next time we don't have house revamps – instead, we have party fun! Because I wanted to have Smiler send summer out on a high note, and because they hadn't seen some of their other friends in a while. What kind of party did they host? You'll have to find out next time –

But I will give you this hint: if you know anything about my experiences in Sims 4, you will know I consider this party at least LIGHTLY cursed.

[deadrlngers]

used this picrew to make my new skyrim crew :3

Hiraeth (they/she/he) || Sibylla (she/her) || Dervera Sathro (she/they)

the dragonborn, the ex-dragon priest now vampire and pain in the ass, the dunmer fed up with everyone's bullshit

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

Literally only I could get upset when getting a kinda cool uquiz result lmao

[running-in-the-dark]

-

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

got the grades for that group project back and it is the worst grade i have gotten in my entire time at university 🥴 AND YET the assessor mentions spefically how the part i wrote is "a particular strength" and "does a very good job of introducing the subject of the display and explaining it in clear and concise language"...

how is it fair that even though the part i did had no improvements i have to get marked down because of the shite other people wrote.............. i'm absolutely fuming

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Shit Fae!Danny Has Said While Living With Waynes

Danny, making a 'got your nose' gesture: Hey Jason, look, I've got your name!

Red Hood, who suddenly can't remember his own name: What the fuck

Bruce, in a tired dad voice: Danny, please, we talked about this, return your brother's name back

Danny: Oh, come on, it's not like he even uses it

Jason, thankfully remembering his name: And I repeat, what the f u c k

Steph, at dinner: I was wondering, what do faeries even eat normally? Like, flowers and stuff?

Danny, his eyes two black voids inside his eyesockets: The souls of the innocent

Steph: So that's a 'no' on the flowers?

Danny, back to normal and shoving a bagel in his mouth: I mean, I can, but would you want to stay on the crumbs-only diet when you are in a 5-star Michelin restaurant?

Tim: It's actually 3-star. Michelin rating system only has three stars, not five.

Dick: Are you saying that people are basically food joints for Fae?

Damian, at Constantine: It would do you well to choose your wording better when speaking to fair folk-

Danny, very much a fair folk, appearing out of thin air in the Cave: Yolo, s'up bitches, guess who's back in town!

Damian: -even when they do not necessarily do so themselves.

Constantine, looking between them: Are you sure you're the human and he is the changeling?

Tim, 46 hours of no sleep: Hey, if you can take a name from someone, does it mean you can take, like, other things that have no real shape or form?

Danny: Names do have shape and form, they even have taste. Yours is like a ping-pong ball made out of really dense cotton candy with banana-caramel flavor.

Tim, losing his touch with reality: Dense banana cotton candy...

Danny: By the way, I know you wanted to ask me if I could take your need to sleep from you, and theoretically, the answer is yes.

Tim, his whisper full of hope: ...will you?..

Danny: No. Either go to sleep or keep suffering. I'm not here to make your life easier.

Danny, after a half-an-hour rant on the Fae customs and traditions: -and Fae never tell the truth, but also never lie. It's a work of art, you know, say what you want but never in a way that makes sense.

Jason: So Fae just like to fuck with people.

Danny, looking him in the eyes, smiling and winking: Sure, humans are very fuckable.

Bruce, trying very hard not to pay attention to this: Can you make an example?

Danny: Sure. I lied.

Bruce: Where?

Danny: :)

Bruce, feeling like he is about to lose his mind: W h e r e ?

Alfred, right after he heard Dick's muffled screaming in the hallway: Young Master Danny, would you mind returning Master Dick his ability to talk in coherent sentences?

Danny, obediently standing up and walking out of the library: ...okay.

Bruce: How come he always listens to you?

Alfred: He knows what I will do if he doesn't.

Danny, returning to the library: He will change all the silverware to iron-ware. As well as the doorknobs and hairbrushes and lightswitches and everything else.

Alfred: Did you fix Master Dick's shoes?

Danny: I did. But I still think that making all of his shoes left ones was funny.

Alfred: Indeed, it was.

| <-prev | next-> |

There's also a fic now.

[star-whatevers]

AU where Shen Yuan gets transmigrated into a younger brother of Mobei-Jun. He manages to avoid getting axed in the inheritance struggle by being a slippery little bugger and a catty bitch that the warring siblings keep around for entertainment purposes. There's a pact that he has to be the last to go when their numbers are finally down to two and everything. He has teleportation powers, but since he doesn't actively cultivate they're not as powerful as Mobei-Jun's.

He's built like a bean pole, but somehow inherited a similar teleportation ability to Mobei-Jun. He spends 75% of his free time holed up in the library and puttering around any markets for books that by all appearances he hates, but won't stop buying. The other 25% he spends actively pissing people off for shits and giggles. His brothers find this hilarious and defend him from the foreign dignitaries he ends up trolling straight to rage.

He only gets in trouble with Mobei-Jun when he finds out that Shang Qinghua is Airplane and beats him with his own scrolls. Mobei-Jun walks in on this scene and is like 'my little brother, finally showing a shred of interest in something other than books, and it has to be with MY situationship'. He's like 3 seconds away from beating the snot out of Shen Yuan for trying to take HIS boy toy. Shen Yuan senses the murderous aura behind him before he's basically throwing in the towel and posturing to his brother like "he's one of the terrible authors, his crimes against words are numerous. I'm not trying to take your man."

Shen Yuan is trying so hard not to piss off the brother that will actually win the fight for inheritance that he ends up wingmaning him after that conflict. He also gets dragged into spars, and he can't tell if this is actually for his benefit or for Mobei-Jun to blow off steam with the added benefit of plausible deniability if he ends up dead at the end. Meanwhile Mobei-Jun is like 'ah, yes, another ally in my struggle to become king. I must make sure he is able to hold his own. He can live.'

Immortal Alliance Conference happens and Mobei-Jun goes there like in the novel to try to catch a couple minutes with Shang Qinghua, breaks Luo Binghe's seal and dips, but Shen Yuan appears and tries to usher him into the Endless Abyss. He gives Binghe some supplies and a weapon before having to try and distract Shen Qingqiu so Binghe can make an escape. He can only transport himself with his weak shadow powers, but he can buy time for Binghe to go down on his own.

Binghe's eventual escape from the Abyss means he comes straight to the Northern Palace and challenges Mobei-Jun in a fit of rage, coincidentally running into his savior - the only person who had been kind to him since his mother died. Shen Yuan becomes a quasi advisor, helping Luo Binghe's adventures and conquest. It's surprising that Luo Binghe doesn't seem to be interested in all the demon women he meets, but at least he doesn't have to endure being the third wheel to all the papapa.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

"The Dare"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x demeter!fem!reader

Summary: You and luke have been best friends forever but after the incident things have been awkward between the two of you. Until you're forced to spend the night together...

Contains: percabeth, angst?? (i think? idk bro), swearing, fluff, kissing, ONE FUCKING BED TROPE

Word Count: 2223 did i get carried away? yes.

A/N: Im back bitches! yes i disappeared there lol, but i've resurfaced with my luke obsession (its never going to end). i've always had a small obsession with living in buses and so from that came this. i have little to no idea what im writing here im going off a random idea while half sleep deprived :)

You roll your eyes and grumble as you follow Annabeth out of the apartment.

"This is stupid," you groan. "I'm serious. Are we really going through with this shit dare?"

Annabeth just smirks, shaking her head. "Yes, y/n. We're not going to be chickens and back out," she turns around and eyes you. "It's one night, besides, Percy and I will be there."

You roll your eyes and grip the strap of your bag a little harder. One night with Luke Castellan? After the incident? No way. Nuh uh. You'd rather step on a lego than that.

"Annabeth," you groan.

"Y/n," she looks back with a dead serious look. "I will drag you there if I have to."

"It's a bus!" you almost shriek, but noticing the few people who turn their heads at you, you quiet down and pocket your apartment keys. "I'm serious. Where'd they even find a damn bus? It's a bus!"

"I know!" Annabeth grins, clearly ignoring your bad mood. "I've never stayed in a bus before. This is going to be so cool!"

"Who the fuck hires a bus out to live in?" you grumble clearly pissed.

"Percy-fucking-jackson- that's who," a voice in the distance yells. You look up and fight the wave of panic that overcomes you when you see Luke and Percy walking towards you both.

"I found the two best buses in the area!" Percy announces dropping his bag at his feet. Luke stands just behind him with a forced smile on his face.

"Wait two?" you ask suddenly, your face scrunching up.

"Yeah four of us couldn't fit in one so I hired two out," he says. "The guy was really chill about it and they're parked right next to each other!"

The cab pulls up and all four of you clamber in. Percy in the front, Luke, you and Annabeth in the back. Annabeth being squished between you and Luke.

"this fucking bet," you mutter to yourself, trying to ignore the palpable tension in the cab.

~~

Luke was basically sweating through his t-shirt. He was so glad to have a sweater on, covering his nervousness.

When the four of you had arrived at the bus guys house two pieces of news reached him. One; that while buses look big, they can't fit more than two people. Two; he was going to be sharing a bus with y/n.

Y/n.

The girl he's been desperately in love with since the day she showed up at camp.

This was either going to be really bad, or really bad. He sighs as he picks his bag and climbs into the bus you're both staying in.

It's got a nice crisp, white interior with flashes of wood throughout it. Luke drops the bag on the sofa that runs along the edge of the bus meeting with the kitchen counter.

He sighs when he hears you enter the bus. You awkwardly shuffle past him and put your bag on the bed. The bed. There is only one bed.

Motherfu-

"Y/n!" Annabeth calls out to you climbing inside and dragging you out. "They have connecting rooftop decks!" she cries and pulls herself up onto the ladder. Chattering to herself about how cool this place is, and even though you can't help it you let a smile slip onto your face.

You think you see something inside the bus but it's just Luke's back.

Sighing you clamber on behind her trying your very best to forget the fact that there is ONE BED. ONE BED. Oh gods. You smirk seeing Annabeths cheeks turn bright red when Percy whispers in her ear.

"Am I interrupting anything?" you laugh when you see her whip her head around and blush even more.

"So have you changed your mind about the buses?" Percy eyes you.

You roll your eyes and move your shoulders in what you think is a half shrug but it just ends up making you look like you're trying to do a weird dance move.

"Ahh, so you think it's a dance worthy bus?"

"No that's not what I meant-" you start but Percy jumps up and starts to shimmy.

"I'm actually gonna push you off this roof," you mutter when a presence comes up behind you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It's him. You suck in a breath and force a smile.

"So what's for dinner?"

~~

Three hours later you are all sprawled out in Percy and Annabeth's bus with boxes of pizza and containers of blue ice cream (courtesy of Percy, thank you) around you all.

"I'm not getting up ever again," Percy groans from his spot over the table next to Luke.

"Well, to make sure Percy dies in peace let's play truth or dare!" Annabeth smirks.

"No!" you and Luke both burst out at the same time.

"Relax, babies," Annabeth teases, and pats Percy on the head before groaning and pulling herself up off the seat. "I'm not going to put you through all that again," she says, picking up the boxes and putting them in the small bin.

The tension in the room suddenly increased. And you swore you could hear a pin drop. Silence descended and you slowly peel yourself off the seat. "I'm gonna go."

You slip out of the bus breathing in the night air trying your best to not blush.

Luke watches as you walk out of the bus and groans when he sees Percy and Annabeth's knowing looks.

"You couldn't be cool about it could you?" Percy asks Annabeth.

"What?" she shoots him a look. "They've got to get over it sometime! It's Luke and y/n. They're best friends. I feel like a grandma helping the two bozos get over whatever happened that day. Nobody even knows what happened!"

Luke sighs and collects himself. "Right I'll leave you two, and go deal with this incredibly awkward night by myself."

Annabeth starts to say something but Luke cuts her off. "I swear to god Annabeth! Please don't make this worse than it already is, I'm trying my very best to not focus on the fact that its weird between y/n. So please, please don't say anything to her that'll scare her off. I want to talk to her first."

Annabeth just smirks and nods pushing you out of the bus as Percy wraps an arm around her waist. "Of course lover-boy."

Luke rolls his eyes and walks over to his bus and clambers inside, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He makes his way over to the back of the bus.

You're sitting on the bed on top of the covers, in beach themed pj's (thank you again Percy) and playing with a small flower crown you'd made. Luke falters slightly when he sees you. You look so calm and at peace that he can't help the small smile that slips onto his lips.

Luke has been trying his very best to talk to you ever since the incident a few weeks ago - when this dare was made - but you've been avoiding him, scampering off whenever he tries to talk to you.

You still haven't noticed him and a bright grin lights up your face when you add some daisies to the crown. Luke's heart warms and he clears his turning around to dig in his bag for sleeping clothes.

Your eyes shoot up and your smile wavers. "Hey," your voice is meek. "Do you... uh want," you clear your throat. "Uh... um, which side of the bed do you want"

Luke spins around. "Uh, I'll take the couch. Don't worry about it."

You sigh, stifling your nerves. "Luke, it's a bench seat with  padding. Just choose a side of the bed."

Panic flits into his eyes and you're reminded of the way he acted the night of the incident. It's been rocky ground ever since then and you've avoided him as much as you can. Being hopelessly in love with the Luke Castellan is clearly not an easy task.

"Choose Luke."

Luke nods to the left side of the bed and you move over letting him sit on the edge of the bed. His presence calming you while at the same time putting you on edge.

"G'night Luke," you mumble and he smiles at the sleepiness of your voice. "But don't you dare come on my side of the bed."

~~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you're warm. It's cozy and you just want to snuggle into the warmth more.

The second thing is that you're lying on top of Luke's arm. If you roll to the right you'll fall off the bed and if you roll to the left you roll into him. Him, Luke. The reason you're so warm right now.

Pulling yourself up you try to move away from him but his arm wraps around your waist and you freeze. "No stay, sunflower," he mutters in a sleepy daze.

Sunflower. Luke hasn't called you that in a long time and it always makes your insides melt.

"Sunflower?" you whisper and Luke's head whips up.

"Y/n?" he says softly.

"Luke?" you whisper back.

"What are we doing?" he asks, noticing his arms around your waist and the fact that you haven't instantly pulled away.

You look up at him. His dark curly hair tousled by sleep and the focused look in his eyes making you very tempted to stay like this forever. But remembering the night of the incident you pull away and clamber out of the bed, cheeks flushing.

"Y/n," your name comes out of his mouth almost tortured.

You ignore him and continue to walk down to where the drapes aren't shut, peaking out to see if Percy and Annabeth are awake yet. And judging by the fact that it's first light.

A blanket wraps around your shoulders. You turn your head to see Luke standing there- shit, he's shirtless. Your eyes trail down his body in a daze. Woah.

Holy Shit.

Now you've seen him shirtless before, but this, this feels more personal somehow. You look up at him, an amused smirk gracing his lips.

"I'm going up onto the deck to watch the sunrise," you say, not looking at him. "Let me know when Annabeth and Percy are awake so I can get out of this dump."

You open the door and climb on to the roof deck, dragging the comforter up with you because yes, as much as you want to be all tough shit and all its freezing and you want the damn warmth - besides it smells like Luke as well.

Luke follows you outside after he puts a shirt on and plops down on the deck next to you. Without even thinking about it you open the comforter for him and he wraps it around himself as well.

"Sunflower, we need to talk."

Here it comes. The inevitable rejection.

"Okay," your voice is small.

"About that night..." he starts trailing off.

"Look," you cut him off, wanting to save yourself the embarrassment. "You don't have to say anything. I get it. That night I kinda jumped on you and I'm sorry. I get it, you were on the spot and then I started acting really weird. But I get it. You don't feel the sa-"

You feel a kiss press gently onto the corner of your lips. What? Pulling back you look at him in shock. "No, please don't humor me on this Luke." A lump forms in your throat.

"Humor you?" Luke asks, puzzled. "Sunflower, I'm not humoring you. I'm serious. That night... I freaked out, I was so surprised when you told me that you liked me, that I froze. Hearing the one thing I'd been dreaming about for years, shocked me," he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration.

"So you don't hate me?" you ask.

"Hate you? No Sunflower, I love you."

Your eyes flit up to his and in the few seconds you take to try and think of something to say Luke presses his lips to yours, pulling you close. You gasp and meet his lips with force.

Luke wraps his arms around your waist, laying you down on the deck, him hovering above you not breaking the kiss once. You wrap your arms around his neck and part your lips, moaning when he slips his tongue inside your mouth. The comforter, forgotten beside you both.

Luke kisses you as if he's never seen the sun before and you are the bright beams shining on the earth for the first time. He kisses you adoringly and groans when you slip your tongue into his mouth. He gently bites your lip and pulls back, gasping for air.

"I love you, Luke," you heave catching your breath. Luke's face breaks into a grin and he presses a soft kiss on the end of your nose.

"Love you, Sunflower."

"Love you, Luke."

He sits you up and wraps the comforter around you both. Resting your head on Luke's shoulder you settle in next to him wrapping an arm around his waist. You swear you can hear Annabeth and Percy cheering in their bus.

"I'm gonna kill them," you mutter.

"I got some ideas," he chuckles back.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

The music JJK men would fuck you to <3

Tags: nsfw, mdni

An: YES I'm including Mahito.. I'm sorry but I love him :(

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Choso, Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Mahito

SATORU

Satoru would be a little basic and fuck you to The Weeknd and a few other similar artists. He loves the slow, sensual beat as he effortlessly rolls his hips deep inside you over and over again.

Sometimes, he'll turn on Cbat just to fuck with you and make you laugh, but when you start laughing and your cute little cunt tightens around him, he goes feral. You don't even realize Cbat played in it's full entirety from how mindless you are from his cock <3

He'll also start out with Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) just for the shits and giggles.

Songs:

Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) - Usher

Coming Down - The Weeknd

Cbat - Hudson Mohawke

Hotel - Montell Fish

SUGURU

Suguru fucks to Sleep Token. You cannot change my mind. That man thrives off the building tension that Sleep Token songs create. He starts off slow with a lot of teasing, but by the end of the songs, he has you seeing stars from how hard he's pounding into you. He quite literally steals the breath from your lungs.

He'll sometimes switch it over to Bad Omens if he's feeling extra rude. He fucks hard and mean to their songs, making sure you know exactly who your pussy belongs to.

Songs:

Jaws - Sleep Token

Take Me Back to Eden - Sleep Token

Like a Villain - Bad Omens

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND - Bad Omens

CHOSO

Choso fucks you to Deftones when he's in a dominant mood. He loves the guitar rift that plays in the back while he's making you whimper and grab at the sheets. Your incoherent murmurs of praise mixed with the loud music in the back is enough to make his head spin.

Yet he also loves that he can make love to you to Deftones as well. They're so versatile for whatever mood he's in at the moment.

Songs:

My Own Summer (Shove it) - Deftones

Change (In the House of Flies) - Deftones

Beware - Deftones

God Complex - VIOLENT VIRA

TOJI

Toji prefers to fuck without music because he loves the sound of your needy whines and the sound of your cunt absolutely drooling all around him while he ruthlessly pummels his cock deep inside you. However, when he's in the mood, he turns on the nastiest divorced dad rock.

It just gets him in the mood to make love to your entire body, and I mean your ENTIRE body. His favorite way to unwind from a hard day is with his tongue deep in your cunt with good music playing in the background.

Songs:

Closer - Nine Inch Nails

Addicted - Saving Abel

Bad Girlfriend - Theory of A Deadman

Crazy Bitch - Buckcherry

SUKUNA

This man does NOT fuck you to music. The sounds of your desperate cries and begging for more is music to his hears. He doesn't even listen to modern day music, and Heien Era music just doesn't fuck as hard as music does today.

There is one song though... He likes the beat, and the lyrics are good too. It's just not a song you'd expect the King of Curses to listen to....

Songs:

Cat Girls Are Ruining My Life! - Corpse

NANAMI

Nanami makes love to you with Hoizer songs in the background. He loves listening to his songs because they remind him of you. He loves the slow and methodical beat while he's making you feel so so good. He'll whisper sweet things in your ear while he has your legs on his shoulders.

Songs:

Work Song - Hoizer

Too Sweet - Hoizer

Sailor Song - Gigi Perez

American Wedding - Frank Ocean

MAHITO

Mahito is constantly under stimulated, so he loves loud, chaotic music to feel the constant void he feels. Though, when he's balls deep inside you, he doesn't need the unpredictable music. He does still prefer the fast-paced music because let's face it. This man doesn't understand the concept of rhythm. I'll pray for your pussy :)

Songs:

Ecstacy - SUICIDAL-IDOL

IN MY MOUTH - Black Dresses

wutiwant - Saraunh0ly

Love Potions - BJ Lips

[cloudyzeusy]

Hey, I recently wandered across your page and I had to indulge.

I was wondering if you could do a sukuna x Dom!(Obviously) Reader - where sukuna's been a bitch all day just to be alone with reader and gets his guts rearranged? It's okay if not, have a good day :pp <3

I narrowed my eyes watching Sukuna walk past all confidently like nothing was wrong to our bedroom. "I'm so sorry Gojo for his behaviour he must be getting close to his heat. "I apologized smiling lightly though this was expected behavior from him. But ever since we mated he had been less and less bitchy.

"It's all good I was naive to believe his good attitude would last for long, and don't worry I'll give you guys some time off I expect you guys will be busy for a while." He laughed and I smiled I saw Gojo and Geto at the door and immediately made my way upstairs.

"What was all that attitude about downstairs." I glared at him but he didn't falter.

"I don't know what you mean." He shrugged looking away and I moved closer to where he sat on the bed smelling his scent spike.

"You don't ? what a shame I was just going to let you apologize and we can have some fun by guess not." I teased him watching his face fall. "I guess I'll have to call up Nanami."

" That's not fair ! You've been gone for two weeks and then as soon as you come back you invite stupid Gojo over." And that's when it clicked for me my omega had missed me a lot. I grinned and pulled him so he was sitting on my lap.

"I'm sorry 'Kuna I should have known not to invite Gojo and Geto over this close to your heat. "I apologize kissing him on the lips before moving down to his neck. I lifted his shirt up gripping his waist as he moaned on top of me I pulled away to let us undress.

I threw him on the bed and watch his eyes glaze over as I forced him into heat with my pheromones intertwining ours together. I moved my fingers down to his cunt and began to finger him his slick already coating my fingers as he panted.

I pulled them out and stared at him smiling wolfishly as I licked my fingers clean making him shudder. " Ugh [name] that's so gross."

"Gross? Anything that comes from you tastes amazing." I said. " Come on sit on my face." I offered but he shook his head vigorously.

"I'm too heavy though." He said looking nervous at my suggestion.

"Baby I could literally throw you around your the perfect size." I reassured him and he climbed on top he hovered for a bit over my mouth holding himself up nervous. Before I pulled him down to meet my tongue making him let out a squeal.

I began eating him out like I was starving - messily . Leaving now where untouched as he basically rode me. As he came on my tongue I licked him clean. He laid limp and I pulled him off me.

I pulled out my dick as he was already grabbing me ready for another orgasm. I teased him rubbing my head in his cunt. Before pushing it all in at once making him squeeze against me. "Fuck you feel so good around me." I groaned thrusting in and out getting accustomed to the tightness. No matter how much I fucked him he was he always so tight.

I kept fucking him fast hitting his prostate forcing moans out of him.

"You're squeezing me so tight baby. I can feel your walls rippling around me. You gonna cum on my cock again." I smirked down at him he couldn't even focus due to the pleasure.

"Y-yes please let me cum." He cried out as I slithered a hand to his throat choking him lightly.

"But I haven't heard cum yet." I said and he got the hint that I wasnt letting him cum till I did.

"A-alpha I can't I need to cum." He begged.

"Hm I would have thought I trained you better than that? Has your heat gotten to your head to think you 'need' anything that I'm not giving you." I said cruelly still drilling into him. He whimpered at my words.

"You feel that that's how deep I am." I said moving his hand to touch my bulge in him. I threw my head back as I felt myself get close to orgasming I began slowing down the pace. Slowly fucking him as I came in him pulling out before I could knot him.

"Alpha.. knot?" He whined begging me and I had to physically hold back. We had three more days to go I couldn't be tired by the first.

"We've got alot of time ahead of us don't worry." I smirked pulling Sukuna into another kiss .

[disneyprincemuke]

5 times * mv1

there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know

pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader

warnings: i... don't know?

notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)

one.

"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"

it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.

after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.

until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."

"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.

he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.

but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."

"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."

for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.

one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.

"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."

there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.

"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.

it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.

"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."

his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.

he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.

it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.

"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"

there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.

he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.

now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"

he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.

he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.

you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"

"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."

he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.

"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."

then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."

"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."

max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."

you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.

you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.

he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.

"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"

and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.

"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."

two.

max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.

he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.

there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.

the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."

he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"

you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.

your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.

"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.

"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.

he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.

"i'm okay."

"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."

he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."

you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.

"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."

"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."

you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"

"g-"

"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"

he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."

you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."

he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.

thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.

and god, he wants it to him so bad.

"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.

he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.

if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.

you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."

your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.

max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.

he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.

yet, he settles with, "you're the best."

three.

max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.

next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.

if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.

his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.

great. they've caught on.

alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.

max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.

when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.

because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.

you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.

from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.

"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"

"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"

you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"

he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.

"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.

"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"

max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?

he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?

he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.

once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.

he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?

"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"

he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.

you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."

max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.

if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.

you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"

you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.

just you and him.

can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?

but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."

he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."

four.

it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.

the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.

max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.

max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.

the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"

with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."

he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.

when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.

alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"

the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.

he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.

and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.

and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.

he missed you all week.

"max?"

his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.

anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.

"can i take you out on a date?"

his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.

"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.

is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?

immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"

you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.

and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.

"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.

finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.

"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."

your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"

"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."

you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.

he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.

but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.

long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.

if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.

"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.

this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.

"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.

max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”

you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."

he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."

five.

in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.

"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.

"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."

max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."

he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.

he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.

he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.

max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."

he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.

you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"

he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."

you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"

max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.

he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.

you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.

"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."

you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."

max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.

he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."

you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."

he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.

he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.

it's just not enough for him.

the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.

thank you, you're the best.

max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.

he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?

he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.

he is feeling so many things.

then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.

and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.

"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.

his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.

"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.

his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."

he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.

your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.

then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"

his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.

max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"

and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."

you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."

[morkhan]

A compilation of favorite little Luffy things from OPLA:

- every single time Iñaki Godoy says "I'm Mønke D Luffy! 😃😃😃"

- dude just casually picking his nose during his conversation with Koby.

- putting his head on top of Nami's while she is safe cracking and Nami being annoyed (valid!) but not at all skeeved out because she can tell that there is absolutely nothing sexual about this, Luffy is basically a puppy and has no concept of personal space.

- unironically clapping for the Buggy Circus before he becomes aware of the Horrors.

- the way Iñaki moves around, all bouncy and loose, making you fully believe he is made of rubber even when he isn't stretching.

- distinct varieties of Luffy grin:

😃 - introductory grin, I'm so excited to meet new people who I will love right away!

<:3 - trouble maker grin, pirate shenanigans are afoot.

😈 - your ass is about to be Gum Gum Grass

- his "argument" with Usopp over who is the Captain, which basically consists of him plugging his ears and loudly going "I AM THE CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN ME, ME CAPTAIN" until he wins, which is low-key a microcosm of how he deals with life in general; shouting his dreams into the wind and being so adorable and so insistent (and persistent and resilient) that eventually the world is like "Oh, fine, just give it to him."

- not Luffy directly but the way Zoro goes from "I guess I'll hang out with this funny little weirdo and his delusions of piracy" to "I would both kill and die for you" and then to "I am vocally swearing to give my life to you and follow you to the ends of the earth and beyond, I am yours forever" like bitch! me too!!

- the show letting Iñaki rock his accent and not even bothering to try and explain it. Like "yes, this is Luffy, he talks a little funny. No, nobody on the island where he grew up talks like this, including him when he was a child. No, the people who raised him didn't talk like this either. What of it? You love him. Shut up." And we do! So we do

It's good show!!!

[yesimwriting]

Okay, so, secretly pining best friends with Logan! Very fun! Loved it!

But also, adults do have "sleepovers," (too tired/drunk/late to drive home, so you crash overnight on the couch) and depending on the dynamic of your friendship, can actually be a little taste of what domestic life would be like together. Just. Sitting together quietly, winding down from a good day, then getting ready for bed when one of you decides it's time to be A Responsible Adult and get a decent night's sleep (you're not kids anymore, after all. Sleep is important).

Waking up in the morning, knowing your best friend is here. Quietly making breakfast together, laughing over how sleepy you both are before coffee, lightly teasing each other over bed head and morning breath. Doing your morning routines together, pointing out stupid shit in the news or bitching over work emails, just drawing out the time before you have to get ready to face the real world.

Imagine Logan being one of those sleepy bear types who grumbles until he fully wakes up, who's soft and warm and domestic when he's with someone he trusts. Also, I imagine that if you tease him about needing to shave in the morning, he'd be the type to chase you down and rub his scruffy face on you in revenge, which is basically how a scruffy guy marks you as his. (His best friend? His potential future partner? No, just his in general.)

a/n yes, a hundred percent yes to all of this

----

The soft glow of the bedside lamp has transported you into another world. A universe made up of the faint scent of detergent and the feel of warm bedding beneath your fingertips.

You blink. There's no reason to feel as drowsy as you do, not when Logan's spent the last ten minutes scolding you. Still, though, something about sitting at the foot of his bed makes it easy to give into your lingering haze. It'd be easy to fall asleep like this.

"Don't," the instruction is flat, "Stay awake."

His back is still to you, which means there's no harm in openly frowning. "I am."

Logan's sigh is nearly masked by the gentle groan of a drawer being pushed shut. He turns around, expression still pinched but much less irritated than before. "Barely." You part your lips, some nonsensical protest waiting on the tip of your tongue, but Logan beats you to it, "Here."

He's extending an arm, a piece of fabric clutched loosely between his fingers. You blink again, this time focusing on the weight of your eyelids. The gesture is such a sharp contrast from his earlier attitude, you're nearly overwhelmed by your whiplash.

You stand before accepting the T-shirt. "Thought you were mad at me."

He lets out a breath, the sound sharp enough to constitute a warning. "I'm not--" His gaze shifts towards the ground. "You should have called me."

This again. "I was fine." His eyebrows draw together with the same level of offense that he used when you first presented this argument. "And I wasn't even alone, I was with Jean and Scott." He scoffs. "And you said to call you if anything went wrong, and nothing did."

Logan walks forward slowly, his steps measured until he's close enough to fully deteriorate your already fragile train of thought. In an attempt to regain control, you lift your head to look him in the eye. He frowns as he raises a hand, his fingers coming to rest beneath your chin.

He's careful as he tilts your head back. There's a weight to his silence. "You're drunk." All you can think to do is blink. He's known this, it's the main reason he's been lecturing you since the couple that graciously allowed you to third wheel all night dropped you off. "You're unreliable."

"Not that drunk."

The correction doesn't ease him. He studies you for another long moment before releasing you with a tired sigh. Maybe you should take it easy on him. It's not his fault he has the heart and patience of someone that's lived two centuries. You sigh. "Fine, next time I go out, I'll wake you up to come get me, even if I'm totally okay."

He ignores your sarcasm with expert ease. "Knew you'd get it, Princess."

You squeeze the T-shirt's fabric between your fingers in an attempt to ignore the warmth threatening to crawl up your neck. "I'm full of understanding."

"Yeah," he mumbles flatly, turning away from you as he walks towards his bed. You watch him with an openness that a more sober you would have never gotten away with. Logan had come to the door in a pair of loose sweats and no shirt. It had been easy to ignore his appearance when you were still in the giggly stages of being drunk. "Go change."

An instinctual desire to argue almost has you protesting, but you are tired of your going out clothes. And the thought of getting to pass out in Logan's bed for a few hours isn't exactly unappealing.

You pull the T-shirt over your head. Logan says your name, but you're too focused on adjusting the hemline to react. The shirt's large enough to cover most of your upper thigh, falling only an inch or two above the dress you're wearing. You slip the dress's straps off of your shoulders before reaching beneath the shirt's loose fabric. You tug at the dress's zipper before slipping the material down your legs.

You pick up the discarded fabric, folding the dress before placing it on top of Logan's dresser. He's uncharacteristically quiet as you approach the available side of his bed. "You seem tired."

He leans towards his nightstand, arm stretching outwards to turn of his bedside lamp. His eyes settle on some point a little past your shoulder. "Not all of us are 20-somethings that can stay up all night."

It's a teasing comment, likely an attempt at preemptively limiting your usual 10 to 15 minutes of yapping before actually attempting to fall asleep, but it digs at you. Jean was the one that insisted on letting Logan babysit you, you wanted to let him sleep. "I didn't want to wake you up."

Logan shifts, his bent leg nearly brushing against yours. "I wasn't asleep," the words are low, careful, "But if I had been--you wake me up." He pauses. "I'd rather that than know you're walking around drunk and looking like that."

An uneasy heat spreads through your chest. You focus on the bedding pooled over your lap. Like that--the kind of comment that'd usually have you insulting the person making it for attempted slut shaming. But Logan's voice is too distant for you to find any insult in it, even in a teasing context.

You bend fabric between your fingers, pressing the nail of your thumb into the material. You nod once.

He shifts towards you, his warmth becoming impossible to ignore beneath shared bedding. "I sleep better like this anyway."

The words are uncharacteristically soft, almost cautious. You lean into the feeling of them, allowing your back to relax against a pillow.

You've shared a bed with Logan before, usually after hanging out with him a little too late and once on a mission where you had to pretend to be recently engaged to avoid blowing your cover. It's not exactly common, but you know how he sleeps enough to know that he's not exaggerating. As soon as he's asleep, he loses the ability to be aware of personal space, an arm across your waist and chin pressed into your shoulder.

"Considering the way you take up the entire bed, I'm sure."

He exhales, the sound more pointed than it needs to be. "You steal blankets."

You scoff. "That's so not true." The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards, the look much too triumphant. What a lame argument--you don't steal blankets, you're not given a chance to. As soon as Logan's on you, it's nearly impossible to move. "Like I can steal blankets out from under your adamantium skeleton."

Logan tilts his head, eyes narrowing in a way that promises nothing good. "You're saying I'm heavy."

Well, when framed like that, anything can sound rude. "No." You press your lips together to keep from laugh. "I"m saying your skeleton is literally made of metal..." You straighten in an attempt to make yourself focus. "...And metal is--" Your mental hold slips, a soft laugh tumbling past your lips as you try to think of a politically correct way to make your point. "...Heavy."

He leans forward, his knee brushing against your leg. There's a tact to his movement, a deliberateness better suited for the violence of the outside world. A warning, you realize, a moment too late.

Logan shifts his weight. You laugh as his hands find a place on each of your shoulders. "That's the same thing."

Helplessly, you press a palm against his chest. Your halfhearted protests do nothing to sway him. You laugh again, elbow pressing into the mattress in an attempt to steady yourself. Logan moves a hand to the back of your head before letting the brunt of his weight fall onto you.

You let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a squeal as you're pushed down. Your head hits the pillow, but the suddenness of the motion doesn't hurt. His forearm is resting near your head, turning him into more of an implication than an actual force capable of crushing you.

You let yourself smile openly. For someone that's always willing to remind you of his age, he has no problem acting like a child. Your lips part, but the laugh attempting to crawl up your throat dies before it can slip out.

Logan's watching you, his eyebrows drawn together in a way you can't interpret. His warmth, the feel of him against you, all of it, loses its humor.

He stays like that for what could be awhile, or no time at all. Then, Logan shifts, his arm moving away from the side of your head. Before you can overthink the change, he's resting his head against your upper stomach.

He's--there's never been this much openness about physical contact. Sure, you guys are comfortable with each other, with you having no issue resting your head against his shoulder during movies or reaching for his hand after a particularly rough mission, but that's--that's usually you.

You force yourself to recover, focusing on your breathing to keep from outing yourself. With the kind of care you'd use to keep from scaring off a skittish stray, you move a hand towards his back. He briefly stiffens as you drag your fingers against his skin, but after a second, he exhales. "You're like a house cat."

You feel Logan's sigh more than you hear it. "I'm not answering that." That's okay. You're happy enough without his validation.

Things stay quiet, and you slip further into the realm between sleep and consciousness. "You--you're um--okay, right?" The question is stiff, maybe even a little awkward. You're so close to sleep, you can't bring yourself to get what he's asking. "Comfortable?"

You're glad to not have to hide your smile. "Yeah," you mumble, voice distant, "It's nice."

You're not sure what you're referencing, but Logan doesn't ask, so you decide it doesn't really matter.

----

The light is a tangible thing, felt against your skin before you can squint your eyes open to see it.

You shift, noting the dull ache of your head as you lift your hand to wipe at your face. Wait.

It comes back to you all at once--the drinking, the after drinking, Logan.

You open your eyes fully. It's instinct to shift, but it's nearly impossible to do much more than lift your head. Logan's asleep, his head resting against your ribs and arm draped over your waist. How did you not notice this?

It would make sense for Logan to be a light sleeper. Even when he's at ease, he never seems fully settled in the feeling. So you're careful as you move, head turning as you try to look at him.

Logan's breathing loses its consistency before you can fully embrace the privacy. His fingers press into your hip so briefly you almost convince yourself the contact is only a product of your early morning haze.

He moves onto his back, palm brushing against your shirt as he leaves you. "Morning, princess."

There's something comforting about hearing his voice first thing in the morning. "Good morning." The words are a little raspier than you thought they'd be, difficult to force out around your hazy discomfort.

The corner of Logan's mouth pulls itself upwards. "I thought 20-somethings didn't get hangovers."

You roll your eyes. There are a lot of aspects of Logan's personality that warrant old man jokes, but his alcohol tolerance isn't one of them. You roll onto your side, propping your head up on one elbow. "I'm not hungover."

The almost-smile grows into something more assured. You let yourself enjoy the easiness of it. "Sure you're not, bub." The response is so warm you have to work at keeping your halfhearted pout.

Logan shifts, the mattress dipping as he sits up. "C'mon." He turns his head, looking at you from over his shoulder. "You'll feel better after you eat something."

The mention of food makes you aware of a hollowness you hadn't yet noticed. The thought of breakfast feels perfectly settling. You sit up with a smile, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "You're not gonna make me eat weird hangover cures, are you?"

He pushes himself to stand. "You're going to have to take that chance."

There's no humor in his tone, and his back is to you so you can't read his expression, but something tells you it's safe to follow him out of his room, anyway.

[sailing-through-hawkins]

hello friend here is a potential lil thing for you: kas!eddie who’s a Good Boy for steve but is still growly at the others (think ‘it don’t bite’ ‘bitch yeS IT DOES’) (it’s a wip, steve is trying his best)

this ended up a lot...sweeter than i intended? and i'm not too sure about the ending but i had to stop it there or i'd end up trying to write a full fic (≧∀≦)ゞ hope you enjoy, friend!!

“And he’s here because?”

Steve pats Eddie’s head when he hands the paprika over, smiling at his goofy (and fanged) little grin. He starts to sprinkle the spices over the pan, not even looking over his shoulder to reply, “He likes to help me cook.”

There’s a long moment of silence so Steve switches off the heat and turns around, thanking Eddie when he gives him a dishcloth to wipe his hands with. When he looks back to the group seated at the island, he has to blink to register all their faces of disbelief.

“You took our Dungeon Master,” Mike starts patiently, which Steve will give him credit for. “Who has been accused of several crimes and then got turned into a terrifying, awesome bat-man with, like, wings and teeth and shit -”

Steve could have sworn Mike used to be better at description whenever they play their sessions.

“And you’ve turned him into your sous-chef?”

Blinking, Steve looks to Eddie, who gives him a preening smile and takes the dishcloth away, and looks back to Mike, whose face is getting paler every second. “Uh,” he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Steve, I swear by all that is -”

Mike’s tirade is cut off by a growl and Steve lets out a sigh. “Hey,” he admonishes, nudging the rumbling bat-man with his elbow. “We talked about this, no growling at the kids.”

Eddie huffs and ducks his head down to bap his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. He moves his head from side to side so he’s basically rubbing his forehead into Steve and wisps of Eddie's hair brush against his neck, making Steve bite back a laugh.

Clearly, Eddie caught that and rubbed even harder into Steve’s shoulder until he broke into laughter, black eyes glancing up at him with a mischievous smile.

“You were right.”

Steve looks over to see Dustin staring at Mike’s fuming red face, deadpan. Eddie pauses.

“He’s tamed him.”

“What?” Steve sputters, choking out a laugh when Eddie moves in closer to nuzzle at his neck, hair now tickling at his nose. “Who tamed who?”

Mike sneers. “It’s whom, dumbass -”

And just like that, Steve is being held tightly against Eddie, who hisses at Mike. Thankfully, he's used to it by now and just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever.”

“Eds,” Steve pats the hand on his chest that presses him into Eddie. "It's okay, he's just having a Michael Moment."

"What the fuck did you just -"

Of course, the little shit can't keep his mouth shut and that just aggravates Eddie even further and well, time for damage control.

"No," Steve says firmly to Eddie, who blinks and stares at him. He then turns to the kids and points a finger at them. "What did we say about name-calling?"

"Bite me -"

"Dude," Lucas, golden child that he is, shakes his head and shoves at Mike's head. "Just shut up and eat your muffin."

"Thank you, Lucas," Steve grins and Eddie huffs, still holding Steve tightly against him. With a fond sigh, Steve wiggles around and manages to face Eddie, smiling at his fanged pout. "Thank you for trying to protect me, Eds."

It's something he started doing after a few days hiding out at Steve's place. At first, he was wary and would hiss whenever Steve got too close, only letting Dustin in his space, only really caring about Dustin at all. And it wasn't...unpleasant, Steve would rather he care about the kid more than anyone else than not at all. It did make cleaning him up difficult but having Dustin sit with him and ramble about whatever the hell he could seemed to help.

Then Dustin had to leave and it was just them.

And then Steve, eventually, figured out it was like trying to befriend a scared cat. Obviously, Eddie was terrified and just needed some time, space and a little bribery to adjust to the new...everything that he was.

So with some of that time and space, Steve got a chance to make his way into Eddie's exceptions and barely gets hissed at anymore, unless it's playful. Sometimes Steve hisses back, and the first time caught Eddie so off-guard that he held Steve down while sniffing around, like he was looking for whatever made the sound.

It made Steve laugh but just confused Eddie, so he did his best to imitate Eddie's chirp, the one he does whenever Dustin asks a question, and Eddie was so flabbergasted that he started chirping back without a thought. He looked half-insulted at the fact and that just set Steve off again.

Once Eddie figured out it was Steve making the noises, he got so excited that he'd always chirp at him, jumping into Steve's space and doing goofy things to make him laugh. It'd always work, duh, cause Eddie's a funny guy, even when he's half-Upside-Down-monster.

He also ended up liking Steve so much that he gets pretty overprotective, which - it's sweet, it makes Steve feel wiggly, but they're still working on who exactly Steve (and Dustin) need protecting from.

That one time when Eddie growled at Nancy for elbowing Steve would be hilarious if it wasn't so terrifying.

...It was pretty funny though.

"This is terrible." Mike says, and Will lets out a sigh. Mike gapes at him and throws his hands in Steve's general direction. "You can see how this is terrible, right?!"

"Brat," Eddie croaks under his breath, right next to Steve's ear and he doesn't even bother holding back, breaking into a bout of laughter that has him clenching at his stomach for relief. He can feel Eddie's excitement buzzing under his skin, right where his cheek rests against Steve's. "Snooty brat."

"Is he saying something?" Dustin asks excitedly and Steve has to wave him off half-heartedly, still reeling from the pain of laughing too hard. Dustin then sounds deadpan again as he says, "Oh, he's talking shit about us, isn't he?"

"Ressspect your elderrrrrs," Eddie hisses into the air with a grin and god damn, the look of pure devastation on Dustin's face -

"The first words he speaks to us since turning Demo-Eddie and it's about being respectful." Dustin hides his face in his hands. "What has the world become?"

"He gets his dramatics from you," Steve says to Eddie, who looks back at him smugly and nudges his nose into Steve's face. "Ow, hey, watch it -"

"Getsss hisss courrage f'om you," Eddie presses his lips to Steve's cheek and -

Huh.

Well.

That's new.

Wait -

"Oh my god," Steve stares at Eddie, who preens under the attention. "I have a monster boyfriend."

The kitchen breaks out into chaos and all Steve can think about is how pretty Eddie's eyes are when he's smiling.