lostalioth · 1 day ago
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𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞
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→ premise: you knew steve loved when you called him sir, how the honorific rolled off your tongue and lit a fire in the pit of his stomach. so maybe it wasn’t the best idea to call him sir in a mocking tone on a mission.
→ pairing: steve rogers x fem!reader
→ warnings: smut | 18+, sir kink, edging, fingering, mention of spanking, nicknames [princess, little one]
→ a/n: kinktober 16
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Steve spent the whole ride back from the mission keeping a death grip on your thigh and facing forward with a deadpan stare. He wasn't per say mad at you but you knew you were in for it when you made it back to the base.
You had called him sir in a tone dripping with sarcasm and an eye roll when he gave you an order during the mission. The honorific wasn't new to you or Steve, it was something you learned about your boyfriend in the bedroom, he loved it when you called him sir. It wasn't a name he was called when he was a leader everyone just always called him cap.
So to hear it roll off your tongue in the middle of a mission in an almost mocking manner has his insides turning, cause it still sent that throb down through his cock.
He wasn't as mad that you said it in front of the others as he was with the way you said it. Yes because of the tone you got a laugh out of Tony in response but Steve didn't find it as amusing.
And that was how you ended up spread out on Steve’s bed, your thighs spread to accommodate your boyfriend's large frame between them. A stinging pain still lingering on your ass cheeks from the beginning half of your punishment, his rough palm. The latter half of your punishment was being relentlessly edged, Steve not allowing you to come no matter how many times you apologize sweetly and desperately. His long fingers were currently buried deep inside you curling upwards to hit that blissful spot deep inside you. That spot that has you squirming and crying out for release when he pulls them back right as your body tenses up and your orgasm is building, making you whine out at the loss of pleasure.
“Sir… pleasee ive been s’good i just need to cum, i promise i wont do it again” you whimper out, trying to grind your hips down on his fingers and fuck yourself on them or get him to move them. “See now i don't think you have, little one” he lightly shakes his head before he grabs ahold of your hip with his free hand. His fingers slowly pull out further making you let out a pathetic whine thinking he was stopping all together. But before you can protest or beg him not to, his fingers plunge inside you in a sharp thrust that has your head spinning. “Ahh~ Sir…pleasee m’gonna cum, wanna cum s’bad” you whine and mumble out, the hour or so of edging that has been going on has begun to make an ache settle in your core and not the good kind.
His fingers curl up again as they pound into you making your vision go blurry, your head spinning as your orgasm builds, growing more and more getting ready to crash into you. The sound of his chuckle rings in your ears and as fast as he pushes them in, Steve pulls his fingers back, not out but they stop their asslut of your g-spot. Your climax comes crashing down instead of over you, the building feelings dissipating in your stomach, your hips bucking and squirming.
“Sirrr pleasee it hurtss, neeed to cum” you cry out, your eyes screwing shut in slight pain as well as frustration.
”You wanted to be a little brat during the mission princess, this is all on you” he explains as his fingers slowly begin moving again though the switch in pace only has small gasps leaving your lips, your orgasm still far far away.
“I'm not done with you just yet, you gotta deal with the consequences to your actions little one” he cooed, leaning down to leave a small peck to your mouth before his free hands rubbed across your thighs that were starting to burn from being spread so wide for so long.
Steve had a long night planned ahead for you, though he did intend on letting you cum soon. He wouldn't be done even after that with you though, he was extremely worked up the entire ride back home. That three letter honorific does something to him he can't explain and he never wanted to hear you say it on a mission again. It's way too hard for him to keep his hands to himself when you do.
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→ a/n: this is short, not proofread and kinda shit as im trying to rush to get back on track so maybe ill finish kinktober this year, i have hopefully one more post to do today, then just the last day which will either be posted on halloween or after after if im busy.
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burningcheese-merchant · 3 days ago
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"Hair Care" - BurningCheese Short #6
I promised a "Burning Spice is snuck into the Golden Cheese Kingdom" story, and I've come to deliver. I also promised wholesomeness, which... I mean, I hope it comes across that way. These two have their own brand of "wholesome", I think lol.
Special shout-out to @cheesecakemermaid1048 for coming up with the original concept of "bonding w/ Burning Spice via brushing his hair" (although I did go an extra mile in my interpretation here lol). Thanks so much again for letting me use this as a writing prompt! I hope you enjoy it especially!
"Grrrr..."
"I already told you that giving me attitude won't change anything, Burning Spice."
"Would razing your palace to the ground change anything?"
"Leave behind even a single scratch on a single one of my walls or columns, and I shall impale you with a thousand earthen spears on the spot."
"Do you promise?"
"It's inevitable."
"Even better, then."
Golden Cheese quickly shot him a pointed glare over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the hallway ahead of them. Completely empty, thank goodness; no one traversed this particular one at this hour of the day, she remembered. Or... they didn't tend to. Usually.
... It was a gamble she knows Mozzarella would've taken, had she been in her place. Calling for the palace to be temporarily emptied and closed would have been too easy, too simple. Daring to challenge one's own understanding of time and people's habits was a far greater risk, with a far more satisfying reward. Guaranteed victories are boring, after all.
Mozzarella wasn't there with them then, but Golden Cheese nevertheless found herself smiling and thanking her old friend for inspiring her in such a way.
Burning Spice, meanwhile, was currently the most miserable man on the face of the earth, and has been since Golden Cheese had the nerve to dictate where she would be taking him today (and instead of having their scheduled duel, as well, to add insult to injury). His petulant stomps left charred imprints all throughout the desert sands where they reunited - she demanded he control himself when they made it to her kingdom, so as not to draw attention and to not ruin her precious walkways - and echoed through the glittering halls and corridors as she dragged him along. How they haven't been spotted by any of her countless little subjects until now, he did not know, nor did he really care. He was frustrated enough that he almost preferred them being caught then whatever fresh hell she had in store for him in the rapidly approaching future.
So irritated was he, that he couldn't even bring himself to enjoy the fact that they were holding hands.
She eventually led him through some fancy doorway - past sky blue curtains and an archway and columns decorated with intricate carvings - and waiting for them beyond it was their promised destination: a fairly large and airy room with a great pool at the very center, with gold and white lilies and dotting its calm surface and reeds sprouting in its corners. Surrounding it was an array of ornate stone and wooden tables, towel racks, smaller pools and individual baths, as well as beautifully carved shelves that seemed to be stocked with soaps, oils and incense. The afternoon sun shone through a massive hole in the ceiling, bathing much of the room in a warm, bright, golden light.
Burning Spice observed it all with a look of cranky disinterest. "A bath, huh?" His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "If you wanted to see me naked, little bird, all you had to do was ask."
"A spa, Burning Spice," Golden Cheese retorted. "This is the primary room for rest and relaxation here within my palace. My attendants are free to come in and put their minds and bodies at ease while they're on break, or after they've been relieved of their duties. They're also welcome to bring their friends and families, so long as they ask for permission first."
"'Ask for permission?' Pfft." A low chuckle rumbled deep within his throat. "How generous. How... soft. Of you AND them."
"It's civilized. That is what civilized behavior is like, Burning Spice. As we both know you've long since forgotten."
"'Civilized behavior'... heh. You think I care about such a pretentious, meaningless thing?"
"No, and it's evident by your appearance. Moreso than even the sun shining in the sky on a desert morning, in fact."
"Oh, don't pretend you don't enjoy seeing me- huh?!"
She didn't wait for him to finish his flirty diatribe and began dragging him over to one of those little baths, tightening her grip on his hand enough to earn an honest wince. When they reached it, she used her spear to nudge a nearby chair over, then whipped around, grabbed Burning Spice by the shoulders, and forced him down onto it before he could protest.
"Wait here a moment," she told him. "Let me go grab what we need."
"Who's 'we'?" he called after her indignantly as she walked off. No use; she moved along as if he'd never spoken in the first place.
To tide himself over and pass the time - that one minute that bore the weight and ache of an eternity - he made a game of letting his eyes go back and forth between scanning the room more closely and drinking in the sight of Golden Cheese's alluring backside as she gathered supplies from a shelf.
She seemed to sense his enamored gaze right away, though, and bristled accordingly. "Keep your eyes to yourself," she snapped at him without turning around.
"Or else what?" he fired back with a smirk, still raking his eyes up and down her body without remorse. "I'm already being punished, am I not? Now you can punish me with all this nonsense for a REAL reason."
"Clearly you aren't," she said as she made her way back to him, a towel hanging from one arm, and a bottle and hairbrush in each hand, "if you still feel bold enough to behave like this."
"But of course I do. How can I not, with such a pretty bird perched in front of me? Only the blind would ignore such beauty, do you not agree?"
She set the supplies down with a huff, her cheeks flushing pink at his words. "Well then, let's see if you still feel that way after we're done."
His flirtatious smile evaporated as she gathered all of his long, wild hair into her arms and narrowed her eyes at it. "Honestly, Burning Spice," she said, "how do you tolerate this... this mess?"
"By ignoring it," he said flatly. "So long as it isn't cut off, then I don't give a damn what happens to it otherwise."
"Well, I'm not tolerating this barbarism any longer. If you won't do anything about it, then I will."
"I could just get up and sit in the bath myself, you know." That suggestive look made a brief return. "And you could join me, if you wanted."
"I'd sooner join you in Hell," she said.
With that, she tossed his hair into the bath, watching as it floated and waved along the water's clear surface. She reached for the bottle, stowed away underneath the chair for safekeeping; the smell of eucalyptus wafted through the air as she popped it open and poured its contents into the water, turning it a pale green.
"What the hell is that?" Burning Spice asked, making a face as he sniffed at the air.
"Soap, you filthy animal," she snapped. "Shampoo and conditioner mixed into one solution. This particular bottle is from a very high-quality brand that is well-liked in my kingdom. I suggest you act grateful."
"Me, grateful? For what? For you kidnapping me and forcing me to endure a... a spa day that I wouldn't ask for in a million years?"
"Precisely," she said, staring down at him with a confident smile.
...So enchanting did Burning Spice find that smile of hers, that he softened just enough to let her work without further resistance.
She worked slowly but deliberately, the calm focus written on her features and the deft movement of her hands betraying her years of experience. His hair was thick and unkempt, practically an untamed jungle; so desperate for love and care that it almost seemed to seek her out on purpose, jet black tendrils creeping and coiling around her fingers and wrists as soon as her hands touched the water.
"When was the last time you even brushed your hair? These knots are atrocious."
He didn't answer her right away, instead scowling and shifting uncomfortably in his seat as she tugged on the strands closer to his scalp. "What does that matter?" he eventually scoffed. "Fussing over one's appearance is a complete waste of time, anyway."
"One's appearance is a cornerstone of one's overall well-being," she countered. "In my kingdom, cleanliness is seen as a form of godliness. It's all a matter of pride, of confidence, of proper self-esteem. Always look your best, always put your best foot forward, and others will be encouraged to see the best in you."
"You think taking a bath makes you a god? HA! Such foolish arrogance- OW!"
"Oh, stop it," Golden Cheese chided him as she pulled on and unraveled a particularly terrible knot. "To think you'd be such a big baby about something so trivial! If I'd known this while we were still enemies, I would've gone ahead and acted like a baby myself, and spent all of our battles pulling on your hair to make you cry."
He grunted in frustration, staring daggers at her as she freed the last remaining strands from that dreaded knot. She ignored him and continued on undeterred.
When she finished the first lather and rinse, working her way up to the top of his head and back down again, she shook her head. "Honestly, Burning Spice," she sighed. "I'm disappointed in you. Even a brute ought to take proper care of himself. How have you allowed this to stand for so long?"
"Because it doesn't matter to me at all," he muttered. "I'll give you that answer as many times as I need to, to get it through your pretty head."
"Of course it matters," she said, her eyes narrowing in annoyance again. "How can you even say that? Do you not hold yourself in any high esteem at all?"
"No."
She stopped, the wad of hair she'd been tending to now sitting limp in her hands. She looked at him in genuine shock - and he returned her look with one of... not quite anger, no. He was not angry. What she saw on his face, in his eyes, was... resignation, tinged with bitterness.
An awkward silence hung over them both before Golden Cheese cleared her throat. "Well, then," she said slowly, "If you can't be bothered to take care of yourself... then I shall do it for you. Alright?"
He softened again, a glimmer of pleasant surprise shining in his eyes. The silence quickly returned, right after Golden Cheese herself returned to her work... but it felt lighter this time.
Soon enough, she was quietly tapping on his shoulder. He understood what she wanted, no explanation necessary, and he slowly lifted his head up, sitting up straight once again. She gathered his hair in her arms and wrung it all out the best she could, then lifted it out of the bath, letting it fall and cling to his back. The soft pitter-patter of water droplets dripping from rogue strands of hair onto the floor filled their ears.
The silence otherwise persisted as Golden Cheese dried Burning Spice's hair with the towel she'd tucked away beneath the chair. He sat still, arms crossed, and neither said nor did anything to disturb her efforts, much to her continued surprise.
Soon enough, she traded the towel in for the hairbrush and quickly set about combing through those still-unruly locks. "It really is a shame, you know," she murmured. "You have gorgeous hair. You shouldn't treat it so poorly."
"Hmph..." He shrugged. "Whatever."
"I mean it, Burning Spice." She combed through another knot - more carefully than she'd done to the others in the bath, out of a newfound sense of concern for his comfort. "Even animals groom themselves better than you. I know you care enough to at least bathe, but there's more to self-care than just that."
"I bathe. I eat. I sleep. Those things are enough to keep me alive, are they not? I don't need anything else."
"They're enough to survive, yes..." She paused. "But... not to live, I don't think."
"You think bathing makes you a god," he muttered. "Of course you would say that."
She set the hairbrush aside for a moment and placed her hands on his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. Instantly - perhaps instinctively - he leaned back, further into her grasp. Silently reveling in her touch.
"Burning Spice..." She sighed softly. "I have long since vanquished you. You're no longer a threat to this world." She hesitated, searching her mind for the right words to say next. "You... you can't hurt anyone anymore. Not on my watch. Perhaps... it's time you included yourself there, as well."
At that, he tensed, but still said nothing. She pulled her hands away (did she sense... disappointment from him when she did so?) and grabbed the hairbrush again, once more returning to grooming the man in front of her. She tried her best to be efficient, but still gentle; combing through each and every lock, more eager than ever to leave them looking better than they did before.
She took longer than she probably should have. (Perhaps she'd started allowing herself to enjoy how... soft and luxurious his hair was.) But even so, when she was finally done, she set the hairbrush down again and circled around to the front.
"There," she said. "What do you think?"
Burning Spice ran a quick hand through his hair and gave her a nod. "More pleasant than before."
"Wonderful." She beamed at him. "I'm glad."
His breath caught in his throat at the sight of that bright, warm smile. It stole all of the light in the room. It outshined the sun itself.
If this was what it took get her to look at him like that, then Burning Spice would gladly let her fuss over his appearance every single day for the rest of his life.
"Now, then..." She clapped her hands together, her eyes now glinting with mischief. "How about we take care of your wardrobe next?"
"My what?!"
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What GC said about cleanliness was something Ancient Egyptians actually believed. They were very, very fussy about hygiene and legitimately thought that cleanliness was godliness. They didn't have spas or bathhouses or the like, though (not before the Greeks and Romans stopped by), they usually just bathed in the Nile. They used something called natron (it's like a salt mixture you get from dry lake beds, tastes like baking soda) as soap and shampoo. There's your history lesson for the day. You're welcome. I have more if you're interested.
And... well. I'm sure it's common knowledge that depressed people can start really letting themselves go if it gets bad enough. I don't really get the impression that Burning Spice is happy, even with that Joker smile he's got on and how much he enjoys trashing everything... I think all the Beasts are plagued with a certain melancholy, really. They're handling it entirely incorrectly, but even so. (And I think the Ancients can and should be the ones to help them overcome that. They're just the right ones for the job, in my opinion. But that's probably just me trying to bait you all into asking me about my Reformed Beasts AU again lol)
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erinoma9 · 11 hours ago
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Problems with "The Search" Comic
Retconning Ursa's backstory
Some old lore about Ursa, before the comic came out.
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Admittedly, this page conflates "royalty" with "nobility," which extends to Mai and Onji's page.
Contrast these excerpts to the Search. (SPOILERS AHEAD! And Long!)
"Born to Fire Nation royalty [nobility] and - raised as such."
Search! Ursa: Her family went into hiding after Roku's death. She grew up as a commoner in Hira'a - a small, remote 'backwater village' located on the far edge of the Fire Nation. Her father, Jinzuk worked as the town's magistrate, and her mother, Rina was a master herbalist. Her mother is the daughter of Avatar Roku and has his headpiece in her possession.
"She was the perfect match for Prince Ozai and soon became his wife"
Search! Ursa: Azulon and Ozai track down Avatar Roku's (supposedly remaining) descendants and possibly monitor them for months. They (forcibly) propose a union between Ursa and Ozai for eugenics purposes.
In a nutshell, her relation to Avatar Roku is enough to qualify her as the perfect match.
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"There was a time when it probably wasn't such a bad marriage. I think they probably started okay. Certainly better than it ended up."
Search! Ursa: She didn't want to marry Ozai, she wanted to marry her one true love, Ikem but she didn't get much of a say. And come the wedding, Ozai drops a massive bombshell on her.
In short, it starts out as a bad marriage, to put it mildly.
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Someone on TV tropes (Fridge Horror section. Be Warned!) posited that "started out okay" can mean anything. And that "okay" doesn't mean happy or willing.
To that I say, it's a massive stretch to claim this scene is equivalent to "started out okay." Okay is not another word for utterly miserable! Words similar to okay can range from alright, pleasant, acceptable or tolerable. So, "started out okay" and the conveniently ignored "better than it ended up" doesn't apply to the Search.
"She is a very sweet woman and a wonderful mother, but she is also very protective -- especially of her favorite child Zuko" ... "Ursa spent most of her time raising her children to be good Fire Nation citizens and the ideal royal family."
Search! Ursa: The comics intentionally or unintentionally avoid portraying Ursa as an imperialist but don't contradict that she taught Zuko and Azula Fire Nation Propaganda offscreen.
She didn't seem to care about being the "ideal royal" herself, privately at least.
For instance, she writes that infamous letter falsely citing Ikem as Zuko's father to spite Ozai among other reasons. Most damningly, she sees her life in the palace as "a life that [she] did not choose for herself," leading to the infamous memory wipe. Both examples have attracted critics, hence the "infamous" connotation, and arguably butcher her 'protective mother' characterisation.
Zuko Alone Ursa: Zuko. That's what moms are like. If you mess with their babies, humph, they're gonna bite you back! [Later on] Ursa: Zuko, please, my love, listen to me. Everything I've done, I've done to protect you. Remember this, Zuko. No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are. DoBS pt 2Ozai: My father, Fire Lord Azulon, had commanded me to do the unthinkable to you, my own son, and I was going to do it. Your mother found out and swore she would protect you at any cost. She knew I wanted the throne and she proposed a plan, a plan in which I would become Fire Lord and your life would be spared. [Later] Your mother did vicious, treasonous things that night. She knew the consequences and accepted them. For her treason, she was banished. "She (Ursa) kind of saved Zuko's life by doing something not very nice to Fire Lord Azulon" ~ Mike "Ursa mysteriously disappeared on the same night as Fire Lord Azulon's death. Some say that she was somehow involved in Fire Lord Azulon's death -- and that she did it to protect Zuko. But the truth is not known."
Search! Ursa: Despite these quotes stressing her role in Azulon's death and clearly implying that she murdered him, that role is given to Ozai. Instead, Search! Ursa merely makes the plan and a deadly poison, all because the writers didn't want her hands dirty.
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Is it just me or is this scene so rushed? What happened to the "swore she would protect you at any cost" line?
Why does she assume she'll get to take her children, even though they are his heirs?
And then there's Ozai's response: he calls them, his collateral and has no problem referring to them as your children. He even threatens their lives, along with Ursa's, if she doesn’t keep her word.
Aside from how stupid it is for him to say that, it begs the question of why he didn't kill Ursa afterwards? He just lets her walk free when she's a loose end to him. Plot hole much!
So, Ursa's mum taught her how to make that poison - okay, in the vein of "what kind of mother forgets her children", what kind of mother teaches her daughter how to make an extremely deadly poison? Literally, no one talks about that!
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cringefailcabitha · 2 days ago
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Cabby and Bot in Spring on the Breakfast!
I've been thinking about Spring on the Breakfast and the clumsy way it handles Cabby's memory disorder and how that handling makes it a little harder to deal with what is going on between Cabby and Bot. And I kind of want to share my interpretation of some of what was going on:
By the beginning of Spring on the Breakfast, Cabby has been back in the game for 3 challenges, her return coming 2 episodes after Bot discovers the circumstances surrounding their creation. At this point, most of the remaining contestants, Bot included, do not see Cabby in a positive light. In particular, Bot's opinions about Cabby are heavily informed by what Test Tube has told them about her, and the general attitude of the other contestants towards her. Cabby, on her part, only figures out the circumstances of Bot's creation somewhere during episodes 11 and 13, and the two spend little time together before Spring on the Breakfast. Though not for lack of trying, Bot continues to be the contestant Cabby knows the least about by far, and that's what they are both working with when they are paired up for the Springtastic challenge. Let’s skip ahead a bit:
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And Cabby obliges. Now, on one hand, there is an attitude towards Cabby and the files in the show that goes almost completely unchallenged up to this point that initially makes this scene feel like it's just piling onto that. Bot has already shared false information with Cabby under the impression that she doesn't care about them as a person, so this scene feels like a continuation of that thought process; an insinuation that Cabby immediately moving to write down Bot's words is an uncaring, or at least misguided gesture.
On the other hand, we can consider why Bot responds the way they do to Cabby's question. Firstly, the fact that they are willing to answer this question at all is notable and indicative of their changing opinions about Cabby. Bot quickly becomes defensive when Cabby questions the dissonance between Test Tube's presence upsetting them enough to hide from her, and the positive relationship she thought they had. This moment makes it clearer how reluctant Bot is to confront how they feel about Test Tube. (Small note but I think that even though Cabby wasn't there for The Confrontation in episode 8 and never worked with "Bot" before episode 14, one could argue that Cabby of all people having zero clue about Bot's complicated feelings towards Test Tube is also testament to their aversion to admitting it). So of course in the moment they don't want Cabby to write it down because it's intensely personal for them and they are ashamed for even feeling that way about the people who created them in the first place. Additionally, Cabby has said multiple times in previous episodes that she will share any information she has if asked; In this instance it's not unreasonable that Bot ends up requesting this.
Cabby, when asked, then shares some intensely personal information of her own, that she, too, has never shared with anyone else. This sort of exchange is common when forming an emotional bond with someone and I think it's the point where Bot goes from just doubting the negative things Test Tube and others have said about Cabby to fully deciding those things weren't true, While also starting to feel a lot safer around her. And at this point they share more about themselves, without Cabby writing any of it down. Afterwards:
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This. It's very reasonable to be put off by the way this scene is framed, knowing that Cabby needs the files to remember things. It gives the impression that Cabby no longer using the files since the people around her can just remind her of things would be a positive thing. Which is an unpleasant message that encourages her to give up her independent nature and leave a lot of her perception of events up to the whims of the people around her. In fact, Cabby's takeaway from her interactions with Bot leads to her deciding not to rely on her files in the subsequent episode, in service of not making others uncomfortable, and even with encouragement she seeks permission from Bot to use her files.
However, one can also view this scene as Bot trying to convey they feel safe and comfortable enough around Cabby to want her to write about them. Not as them saying, "I'll tell you again so you don't need to write it down", but as them saying, "I'll tell you again so you can write it down". It is frustratingly indirect, as Bot tends to be at times, so it isn't a very obvious way to take it, but Bot seemingly having prepared a new folder for Cabby to write about them in between their elimination and Blue Buried supports this idea. Further, in preparing that folder, Bot tries to engage with Cabby on her level and show that they want to understand her, instead of further convincing Cabby that she can only make friends if she stops relying on her files that she needs, that she enjoys writing, and that are an important part of her identity. Bot choosing to get closer to Cabby is also a symbol of them breaking away from the expectations Test Tube places on them in that doing so directly contradicts Test Tube's sentiment towards Cabby and desire to keep Bot away from her. Test Tube keeping Bot away from Cabby in previous episodes is meant to be seen as part of Test Tube trying to hide the truth from Bot, and Bot deciding to form a bond with Cabby irrespective of what Test Tube thinks about her can be seen as them accepting and welcoming the truth. All of these things are important for Bot to do as a character whose development is centered around them finding and being proud of their own identity.
And in a way, if you interpret this scene as Bot wanting Cabby to write about them, it is also representative of Bot becoming more secure in their identity. Cabby's goal is to keep accurate data, and though she can and does change that data when new information becomes available to her, the act itself of writing things down can make things feel more concrete. So Bot inviting Cabby to write about them next time almost becomes an invitation to have that information be "official" because they feel surer about who they are,
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adore-gregor · 4 months ago
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ugh there it goes
#our promotion 😢😢#1st place is gone#today was tough our opponents were all way better than us#we only won 1 match out of 6#now they're leading our league well we should at least win our last matchday and get 2nd place#the no1 seed was in another league from ours 6:0 6:0 altough she's quite a good player at our club#we only won one doubles match altough they were not as good by far as their other players#and all the matches were quite one sided they were also way higher rated than us#i also lost my match 😫 altough it was quite close actually but that is even worse sometimes idk#i certainly could have won idk why i didn't i mean there were not many chances but they were there#i lost 5:7 4:6 ugh 😭#maybe with a better serve i would have won#but i was 5:4 up and i didn't win that point like that's when you have to be there and make it#i think this might just be one of my weaknesses i'm really good at conebacks and believing in that i'll win but i have to be more effective#and 'cold' when it matters sometimes i'm quite wasteful with my chances#i often make the craziest most difficult shots which are 'impossible' to get back but then fail at the easiest one's#especially in the crucial moments maybe i should play it safe more and be more patient#nah but winning that first set would have changed everything because 3rd sets are more likely to be my advantage with my speed and fitness#and in the 2nd i was just always one behind i always caught up but never went ahead#my serve also wasn't really there today and my 2nd serve is still too weak opponents take advantage and if i have a bad 1st serve percentage#like today it makes it difficult to win my own serve and i also made many double faults (4) 😕#i aced her once tho 🤪#but my serves are sometimes great but very inconsistent dependent on the day (the 2nd one always bad)#my backhand also wasn't as good as usualy i hit a lot of them out but it got better altough then i took many with my forehand which worked#and my opponent had riddiculous stops they wouldn't go up the ground again 🫠#and she was so good at net and also whenever i went there she'd pass me or lob me 😅#i gave up doing that very soon my best shot at this was just hitting winners and hitting balls deep to her forehand#i succeeded at that a couple of times but it was not enough#i mean i didn't play badly but what a shame#she was very nice though and very fair it was a pleasant match and she told me she was the best opponent she encountered in the league
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neptunevasilias · 1 year ago
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Not enough people talk about how in Before the Dawn, Fox and Umber were on the same team and were both sneaking out at night. Umber to go do criminal activities and Fox to patrol for said criminal activities.
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honestlyvan · 2 days ago
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I know this puts me in the minority as a person who's at the moment deeply apathetic about sequels and franchises but I really hope whatever Monosoft is working on for Switch 2/"Ounce" is not gonna be another Xenoblade title.
The Xenoblade well has been run dry for me. I did not like Future Redeemed, I thought the ending to Xeno 3 suffered from franchise baggage, I think with Xeno 1 having a rerelease that more fully integrated it in with Xeno 2 and 3 in a way that undercut the standalone nature of that game makes it clear that while there was will to build on the ideas of that game, there was no real original Xenoblade Master Document, and they ended up relying on very worn Special Boy With Special Destiny tropes to bring it all together.
Enough, I say. Enough franchise building. I don't want to know how XenoX "integrates", I would rather it be truly standalone, even if it turns out the thing everyone was fleeing from was Klaus' experiment. Either pull the trigger and let "Xenoblade" assume the status as the official modern Xenoseries title and start making anthology games, or produce a new Xeno game with a different subheading.
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ohmygraves · 9 months ago
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once, you tried to hide from your husband simon.
it wasn't your first attempt, of course. he's very observant and would notice you missing if you were out of his sight for like five seconds. you two are basically joined to the hip, so it's really, really hard for you to just somehow disappear from his sight. you're thankful that somehow he didn't even set up security cameras for the house himself.
of course, that doesn't discourage you from pranking your husband.
simon was away on a deployment for a few months, and you have been planning all of this from start to finish. you've seen lots of tiktok and reels and whatever about seeing how long your spouse will go look for you if you went missing, and you're kind of curious as to how long it takes for him to go look for you. clearly, you weren't thinking that far ahead.
you went and set up cameras yourself, since it's high time that you need to install one anyway. you told simon before he left, he completely trusted you to deal with it. he's most likely going to check everything when he comes back anyway, making sure that you did everything properly. but that's how you find yourself sitting impatiently, waiting for him to pull over the driveway of your shared home.
after setting everything up, you make sure that the cameras are working around the house. one by the front door, one in each room (except the bathroom), one in the garage and overseeing the driveway, and one facing the backyard.
this was flawless. this was amazing. he's going to laugh and find you in five seconds as usual.
you quickly hide yourself in the closet after you hear him pull over, making sure to keep your voice as low as possible. you giggled as you saw him call for you as he walked into the house through the security camera. but you weren't ready to see what happened next.
simon kept calling for you, looking around nervously as he couldn't find you. he dropped his duffel bag on the floor, kicking his boots off in a rush as he looked everywhere for you, getting increasingly agitated and anxious since you didn't respond. you can clearly see how panicked he was, how scared he is. his voice cracks as you could hear him pass from room to room, his hands flipping through your entire house to find you.
seeing how panicked he was, you felt really bad.
you quickly leave your hiding spot, calling out to simon. he was holding a knife in his hand, a panicked look on his eyes as he turns to you, eyes blown wide. his breathing is irregular.
"simon! i'm sorry! i was hiding and—"
you couldn't even finish your sentence before he hugged you, dropping his knife as he held you close to him. his body shook silently as he pressed you against his chest, not wanting to let go. you could feel his heart beating fast, his fingers trembling against the small of your back. you could feel wetness dropping against your skin, but you're too scared to say it out loud.
"... don't do that again..."
"i'm sorry, simon..."
he didn't say anything, simply holding you tighter in his arms. he wouldn't leave you alone for a few days afterwards. you're sure he's still mad at you after what you did, but he didn't say anything, too busy holding you close to him hoping that somehow he could glue the two of you together so you wouldn't wander off.
you learned that you probably shouldn't try and scare him like that again.
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imaginaryf1shots · 4 months ago
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Family at McLaren | Oscar Piastri
WC: 4.7K oops
Oscar Piastri x single mum!reader
Summery: Raising a son while working for McLaren F1 team was never easy but life wasn’t easy on you anyway.
Warning: Teen pregnancy, absent father, absent family
Masterlist
Oscar Masterlist
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Life hasn't been the kindest to you, it seemed like you've been struggling for so long before things started to turn to the better. Getting pregnant young wasn't on the agenda, nor was your boyfriend breaking up with you and moving as far away form you as he could, and your parents cutting you off to 'save face' certainly wasn't planned. But in the end you have your son, all the doubts and thoughts about keeping him or giving him away were set in motion, there was no way you'll give him away, he's a part of you and he's yours. You worked hard, keeping your scholarship helped you through your university and then you also had work on the side to support yourself and your son. During university with the help of your life long friends you were able to get through it and your understanding professors were also a big help. All in all with a son under 5 years old you graduated university top of your class and many opportunities for you to work and choose from. So when you got the chance to work for Mclaren F1 team you took the chance without thinking about it.
Studying was one thing, but balancing work and personal life was hard, harder than you thought. But the McLaren team is like a family everyone's very understanding. McLaren continues to be your beacon of hope, a promise for a brighter future.
"Thank you so much for letting me bring him in." You thanked your manager, feeling grateful for her allowing you to bring Tom with you. The daycare was flooded due to some water leakage or a burst pipe of something like that, meaning until they get everything fixed you had no one to watch your son while you're working. So in a panic mode you called your manager and told her what happened, she was very understanding and agreed to let you bring him with you. You worked in an office and weren't with the mechanics so that made it easier for him to stay with you and not hinder your work.
"No worries, I understand how things get some times." She patted your back and smiled at Tom who was shyly hiding behind your leg, he was super shy. Your team knew you had a son and have all admired you for being a young single mother but so far ahead in your carrier already. But it wasn't something that you spread around so when you walked in and saw the looks on everyone's faces you knew that they were
shocked.
Tommy is a carbon copy of you, there's no doubt in anyone's mind when they first see him that he's yours.
"Oh my god, who is that cutie?" Asked one of the women on the media team, she crouched down in front of you to be eye level with Tommy, he held your hand and looked up at you, you gave him a smile and a nod of encouragement.
"Hello." He said and waved before he got shy and hid into your side, you and Sarah giggled, a couple other moved closer to the three of you to watch the interaction, it's not everyday that a child comes into the MTC.
"What's your name, little guy?" Sarah asked trying to prop him into talking and get him out of his Shyness
"I'm not little." He mumbled and peaked out at her, Sarah raised her arms in surrender.
"Sorry, what's your name big guy?"
"My name's Tom, but mummy calls me Tommy." Tom said and you giggled. A few of your colleague interacted with him on your way to your office. Once you were there you gave him a few of his toys to play with, including a toy car that he liked to act as if he raced with, especially since you started working for McLaren, and being surrounded by Formula 1 way more than before. As you settled in work, it was clear that Tom has created a buzz in the office.
It was later when Oscar strolled into the office. It wasn't weird for him to be there, since you're similar in age you had struck up a friendship, and he'd pop in every time he was in the factory, you'd always talk for a while but had no idea about Tom. So when he walked in and saw Tom surprise flickered on his face, it didn't take him long to put two and two together, especially with the murmurs of other people he passed since he arrived.
"Hey there." Oscar said a friendly grin spreading on his face as he squatted down beside Tom who was playing with his Toy car. "Are you a future driver?"
Tom looked up, his shyness having faded a bit since the morning.
"Maybe." He said with a giggle, holding up his toy car for Oscar to see, Oscar then glanced at you as you watched the scene unfold.
"He's got good taste." He ruffled Tom's hair and stood up. "Are you brining him to the track next?"
"Not if I can help it." You replied with a laugh, grateful for Oscar's easy going nature. "Too much people, too many ways to get lost."
"True." Oscar pulled the usual chair to sit next to you, his eyes not leaving Tom's. If Oscar held any respect for you before it just doubled. Oscar sat with you for a while before he had to go away.
By lunchtime Tommy was like a mini celebrity, there was even a few engineers that took turns showing him around. You were over the moon, just seeing him so happy and over his shyness. Lunch time is always hectic, and all it took a few seconds, you looked away from Tom for a few seconds and he was gone. You couldn't see him anywhere. Panic consumed you, and your heart pounded in your chest as
realization hit you, Tommy is lost. You turn around and head back to your office, maybe he went back there for one of his toys.
Dread washed over you when you didn't find him there, the MTC is a big building and he could be anywhere, you asked everyone you passed if they've seen him but no one has. You called his name, and a few others joined you in your search.
Where did he go? Was he hurt? Is he scared? Just the thought of him being alone in this big unfamiliar building scared you immensely. With each passing moment a sense of helplessness threatened to overwhelmed you.
As you ran around, calling for your son, your voice is tinged with desperation, you could feel the stared of your colleagues, their concerned expressions adding to your anxiety. And as they told you words of comfort it just fell onto deaf ears. You were lost in the whirlwind of your panic.
It seemed to you as if you've searched each corner, every hallway, your mind conjuring the worst scenarios. Each empty room you passed seemed to taunt you with its silence. The MTC always felt like it's a place filled with excitement and innovation, now just felt like it's a maze. You stopped by Sarah's disk, your breath coming in short and frantic gasps.
"Have you seen Tommy?" you ask her, your voice trembling.
"No." She shook her head, concern etched across her face. "But we'll find him, he can't have gone far."
Tears prickled your eyes as you continued your search, your voice growing hoarse from calling his name. your ran through corridors, peering into ever nook and cranny, your mind replaying the last moments you saw him, had he wandered into a restricted area? Was he frightened or hurt?
Just as the panic was threatening to consume you, you turned a corner and you saw a familiar figure approaching, relief and disbelief washed over you as you saw Oscar, with Tommy over his shoulders, a broad smile on his face.
”Looking for this big boy?” OScar asked, his eyes twinkling with a smile on his face.
A sob left you in relief, as you rushed over pulling Tommy into your arms.
”Oh my god!” You exclaimed, your voice trembling. “I was so worried.���
Tommy wrapped his arms around your neck, he sensed your distress. “I’m sorry mummy.”
Oscar smiled gently, patting Tommy’s head.
”I saw him wandering around, so I took him to check the simulator room.” He explained. “I think he’s got a knack for finding the coolest sports in the building.”
”Thank you Oscar.” You managed a shaky laugh, the tension slowly ebbing away. “I don’t know hat I would’ve done if-“
”It’s okay.” Oscar interrupted softly. “He’s safe now, let’s just keep a closer eye on him next time.”
You nodded, and as you hugged Tommy a tear left your eye, Oscar’s eyes just softened even more, he whipped it away and gave you a one armed hug with Tommy between the two of you.
“Oh Tommy, I was so scared.” You mumbled to your son after you pulled away from Oscar.
”I’m sorry mummy.” Tommy looked sad, he didn’t mean to scare you.
”It’s alright baby, just don't do it again, you have to always tell me where you are.” You tell him, and he nods, hugging you.
Oscar walks back with you, once you make it to your office, and you send a message to everyone that you found him, the rest of the day goes smoothly, everyone pays more attention to Tommy making sure that he’s alright and within eyesight.
This just renewed and cemented the love and care in the McLaren family.
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From the moment OScar saw you at McLaren, he was captivated. You were different from everyone else he’s met, that is remotely close to his age, something he now concludes is because you’re a single mother, juggling a demanding job and raising a young son on your own.
Oscar admired your resilience, you run wavering commitment to both your work and Tommy. And despite the whirlwind that is Formula 1, he’s found his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you managed to keep everything together with such grace. He often wondered how hard it must’ve been for you, he heard that you’re mostly alone taking care of your son, he pained him to think that you went through so much hardships alone. Your friends were there for you, but they couldn’t have been there all the time.
Oscar also knew you had drawn clear boundaries between the two of you, he’s seen the way you focus on your work and Tom, always putting your son first. He respected that about you, even if it meant keeping his feelings in check. When you brought Tom to the MTC, Oscar knew why you had drawn these lines.
OScar saw the way Tom’s eyes light up when he saw the cars, and when he sat on the sim even if he was too short to do anything yet, his face was beaming with excitement. Oscar enjoyed the moments he spent with Tom, you had brought him with you for a week while the daycare was being fixed up.
Seeing the vulnerability in your eyes when Tom got lost, he saw the fear of a mother who lost her child, and he wanted to be there for you, to support you in any way he could.
And through the week Tommy was at MTC, Oscar had taken it upon himself to spend as much time with Tommy as he could, he’d take him to the simulator room, and show him the cars at the technology centre. He saw first hand how much you meant to your son.
Without even noticing Oscar’s feelings grew stronger with each passing day, but he knew he had to approach his feelings dreadfully. His biggest fear is making you uncomfortable in any way shape or form, or overstepping. So he just focused on building a bond with Tommy, knowing that his actions will speak louder than words. And he couldn’t help but hope that in time you might see hi as more than just a colleague or a young F1 driver. Oscar understand that you’ve been hurt before and that you’re protective of your heart and the heart of your son. But he’s known for being patient, willing to wait and prove himself, to show you that could be a part of your life and Tommy’s in a meaningful way.
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One afternoon, as you were wrapping up a meeting, Oscar popped his head into your office.
”Hey, got a minute?” He asked with that familiar, easygoing smile.
“Sure, Oscar.” You looked up from your desk. “What’s up?”
”I was wondering if you and Tommy would like to come to the race this weekend?” Oscar stepped inside, his hands causally tucked into his pockets. “It’s in the country, and it’s a big one, I thought it might be fun for him to see it all in action.”
Your initial reaction was to say no. The thought of bringing Tommy to a race, with the noise, crowds and the chaos, it just seemed overwhelming. but the way Oscar looked at you with genuine enthusiasm and a touch of hope, made you hesitate.
“I don’t know, Oscar.” You said, your concern evident in your voice. “Races can be pretty hectic I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for Tommy/“
Oscar pulled his usual chair to sit next to you.
”I get that, but I’ll make sure you both have a great experience, I’ve arranged for some VIP passes, and you won’t be working, so you’ll have access to the paddock and private viewing area, it’ll be safe and Tommy will get to see the cars in action, I promise it’ll be fun.”
“I’m not sure-“
”If you feel at any point that it’s overwhelming;ming you can escape to my room and stay there until the end.” Your resolve was wavering as you thought about how excited Tommy will be.
”Well, okay, alright.” You agreed but your voice was still tinged with uncertainty.
“Great!” Oscar’s smile widened. “I’ll make sure everything is set up for you, trust me, you’re going to love it.”
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The day of the race arrived, and you found yourself with Tommy at the circuit. your nerves are a mix of excitement and apprehension. The roar of the engines, the buzz of the crowd, it was a world you had seen inside at McLaren but never experienced firsthand like this. Tommy is practically bouncing with excitement, the pass around his neck is like a golden ticket.
You were only there for the race day, and when you met Oscar by the Mclaren motorhome there was still a couple of hours until the start of the race.
”Hey, future race car driver.” Oscar said ruffling Tom’s hair. “Ready to see some action?”
Tommy nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with wonder. “Yes! Can I sit in your car?”
”We’ll see what we can do.” Oscar laughed, a warm and infectious sound. “Come on, let’s get you both set up.”
Oscar led you through the motorhome, you greeted your colleagues that you worked with and smiled. Tom was holding Oscar’s hand as he showed him around. Your son was mesmerised.
”Can I see that one up close?” Tom pulled on Oscar’s sleeve to gain his attention. Oscar glanced at you for approval, and you nodded, smiling at Tom’s enthusiasm.
”Of course, let’s get you a closer look.” You stood at the back of the garage, as Oscar took Tom to his car. One of the media members asked if they could film Tom and you agreed, he was dressed in a mini McLaren kit that he got as a gift from one of your friends for his birthday.
Oscar pulls Tom up and puts him in the cockpit, Tommy giggled, his laughter gaining the attention of the mechanics. One got the wheel and gave it to Oscar to put it in place. Tommy instantly leaned forwards to be able to hold it, but he couldn’t see over the cockpit anyways. The wheel was too heavy for him to move, but he was having the time of his life. Oscar glanced at you and he couldn’t help but feel proud seeing how happy you looked.
It warmed your heart seeing how happy Tom looked, and seeing how Oscar is with him made you feel some type of way. Tommy looked up so much to Oscar, since he met him at the MTC Oscar has been his idol, he’s always asking for him, and video calls have began to be a thing now.
”Mummy, look at me!” Tommy called for you, you walked a little closer and smiled at your son.
”You look like a racer, baby.” You tell him and he grins. “Oscar better watch out.”
”Oh I will, who knows, maybe he’ll come for my seat.”
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After Tom had his fun in the car you get to the hospitality on top of the McLaren garage, your seat has a view over the pit lane. One of your coworkers comes and keeps you company for a while before she has to rush back to work.
During a break in the action, Oscar joined you with a wide smile on his face. He saw the hat you now supported with his number on it, custody of someone from his team.
“Having fun?” He asked, leaning in close so you could hear him over the noise.
Tom nodded vigorously, turning to you with a beaming smile. “This is the best day ever mummy!”
You chuckle, your heart swelling with happiness at seeing Tommy so thrilled.
”Thank you, Oscar.” You said meeting his eyes. “This means a lot to him.”
”I’m glad you’re both here.” Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes holding warmth that made your heart flutter, he said softly.. “I’d love for you to come to more races, if you’re interested.”
The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you and at Tommy, made you realise how much he genuinely cared. It wasn’t;t just about impressing you or having fun; it was about building a connection, creating moments that mattered.
”We’ll have to see about that.” You replied, a small smile on your lips. The idea of letting Oscar into your lives was still daunting, but seeing how happy he made Tom, how happy he made you feel, was starting to shift your perspective.
After the race, you were told that Oscar asked for you to wait for him. Since Tommy was crashing from the activities of the day, you went to Oscar’s drivers room, which he showed to you for an instant like this earlier in the day. Once you settled on the sofa/bed, Tommy was out in an instant. You were on your phone when Oscar came in, he was a little surprised but pleased to see you in his room.
He had showered and was dressed to go home, he leaned on the wall across from you, his eyes not leaving yours.
”Go on a date with me, just dinner, the two of us.” Oscar’s voice was low, but you heard him loud and clear. Your heart skipped a beat at his request.
”OScar, I really appreciate the offer, but my focus is Tom, I’m not sure dating is a good idea right now.” You replied, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Despite how Tom couldn’t stop talking about everything that happened today, relaying everything that happened in an enthusiastic way that only children could do it in. You found yourself smiling at his words, feeling a warmth you hadn’t expected. You can no longer ignore the impact Oscar is having on Tom. Their bond had grown stronger, and it was ever clear to everyone that Tom adored him, but it wasn’t just Tom. You couldn’t deny the way Oscar made you feel, the way he looked at you with genuine care and interest, the way he treated Tom with kindness and respect.
You had always been wary of letting someone into your life, afraid of the disruption it might cause for Tom and the vulnerability it required. But seeing Oscar with Tommy, witnessing his patience, his kindness, and the genuine joy he brought to your son, made you reconsider your stance.
You had spent so long building walls around your heart, protecting Tom and yourself from potential hurt. But those walls had also kept out the possibility of new happiness. And Oscar, with his easy smile and genuine care, was chipping away at those barriers in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I understand, really.” Oscar said after a pause of silence. “But I feel like we have something special, and I’d love to see where it could go, I care about you and Tom and I’m will to go at whatever pace you;re comfortable with.”
His words resonated with you, touching a part of you that longed for connection and support. You knew how important it was to be cautious, but you also couldn’t ignore the possibility of finding happiness with someone who genuinely cared for both you and Tom. And seeing Oscar right now he looked vulnerable and genuine.
You took a deep breath, your mind made up. "Okay, Oscar. Let’s give it a try, I’d like to go out with you," you said, your voice firm yet hopeful. "But I want to take things slow. I need to be sure it’s right for Tommy and me."
You could see the relief on his face, it made you smile. “Of course, we’ll take it as slow as you need, I’m just happy you’re giving us a chance.”
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The night of your first date arrived, and you felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. You had chosen a cosy, intimate restaurant, nothing too flashy, just a place where you could talk and enjoy each other’s company. As you got ready, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation, wondering what the evening would lead to.
Oscar arrived right on time, looking effortlessly handsome and a bit nervous himself. He greeted you with a smile that melted away your apprehensions. "You look beautiful." He said softly, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration.
"Thank you." You replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "You look great too."
The dinner was perfect, filled with laughter, conversation, and a deepening connection. Oscar was everything you had hoped for, kind, attentive, and genuinely interested in you and your life. He listened to your stories, shared his own experiences, and made you feel seen and appreciated in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.
By the end of the night, as he walked you to your door, you realised just how much you had enjoyed his company. It wasn’t just about having a romantic interest; it was about finding someone who respects your boundaries, who cares about your happiness, and who is willing to be a part of your and Tom’s life.
Before saying goodnight, Oscar took your hand gently, his eyes searching yours.
"I had a really great time tonight." he said, his voice sincere. "I hope we can do this again."
You smiled, a sense of contentment settling over you. "I did too, Oscar. I think I’d like that."
As you closed the door behind him, you felt a sense of hope and possibility bloom within you. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to imagine a future where you weren’t alone, where Tom had a positive male role model, and where you had someone to share the ups and downs of life with.
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Months passed since you decided to give Oscar a chance and go on a date. Life began to change for the better, in unexpected ways. Oscar became a constant and important part in your and Tom’s world. He seamlessly integrated himself in your routines and lives. He showed up for dinners, outings, even a couple School events, and the quiet everyday moments that truly mattered. He wasn’t a visitor in your lives, he’s becoming a part of the family.
Oscar’s patience and kindness never wavered. He was there for Tom’s ups and downs, helping with homework, playing games, and simply being present. You saw the way Tom’s face lit up when Oscar was around, how he looked forward to their time together, and how he had started to look up to Oscar as a father figure. You were scared at the beginning that with the tantrums and fights you have every now and then with Tom, Oscar would bolt but he stood there and supported you with them.
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One day, you found yourself at a part, watching Oscar and Tom play a game of football. Tom’s laughter filled the air and his joy infectious as he ran after the ball, his short legs moving with determination. Oscar let Tom score, cheering him on with genuine enthusiasm.
As you watched them together, a deep sense of contentment washed over you. It was in these simple moments that you realised how much your life had changed for the better. Oscar had not only brought joy to Tom’s life but had also reignited a spark of happiness and hope in your own heart, a hope that you thought you wouldn't have anymore.
Reflecting on your journey, you thought about the fear and apprehension you had felt when Oscar first showed interest in you. You had been so protective of Tom and cautious about letting someone new into your lives. But Oscar had proved himself time and again, showing you that it was possible to find love and support without compromising your responsibilities as a mother.
Oscar was different. He understood your fears and respected your boundaries. He was patient and gentle, gradually earning your trust and showing you that it was okay to open your heart again. He wasn’t just there for the good times; he was committed to being there through the challenges, too.
As Tom came running over, his face flushed with excitement, he jumped into your arms, babbling about the game. Oscar followed, a warm smile on his face.
“You have a future football star here.” He said, ruffling Tom’s hair affectionately.
You laughed, hugging Tom close.
”He’s got a great coach.” You replied, meeting Oscar’s eyes with gratitude.
Oscar’s gaze softened, and he reached out to take your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m just glad to be here.” He said quietly, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings.
In that moment, you felt a surge of emotion, a realisation of how much Oscar had come to mean to you and Tom. He had become a constant presence, a source of support and love that you hadn’t dared to hope for. The walls you had built around your heart had crumbled, replaced by a newfound sense of security and happiness.
As you walked home together, Tom chattering excitedly between you, you knew that you had made the right decision. Oscar wasn’t just a boyfriend or a new figure in your life; he was a partner, a confidant, and a loving presence for Tom. He was the family you had hoped for but never thought you could have.
And from that day on, Oscar continued to be a steadfast presence in your life. He was there for the celebrations and the struggles, always with a smile and a helping hand. He became a father figure to Tom, guiding him with patience and love, and a partner to you, sharing in the joys and challenges of everyday life.
Looking back on the journey, you felt a profound sense of gratitude. You had opened your heart to love and, in doing so, found a partner who was committed to building a future with you and Tom. Oscar had not only filled a void in your life but had also enriched it in ways you had never imagined possible.
The second best decision you took, after deciding to keep Tom, is giving Oscar a chance.
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03
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moonlight1110 · 3 months ago
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moody bf!Simon :(
Bf!Simon x reader, make-up sex after an argument
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Tags: afab!reader, p in v, smut, NSFW, desperate sex, far from canon simon, I write with badjhur's voice in my ear, not proofread, quick read
Notes: this is your friendly reminder not to write your fics directly on tumblr because it will lag and will not post your work and you have to write it again </3
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Bf!Simon hates arguments, hates confrontation, and hates the silence that comes with it after you two have a heated exchange. Usually, when you argued at home, you would have time to cool off before talking, making up and forgetting how the argument happened in the first place.
This was different. You were invited to a small get-together with friends, and immediately, Simon wasn't a big fan of the idea. With the stress from work and his general disinterest in those kinds of social events, he was less than excited to attend.
However, you wanted to go, saying that it would be good to go out more, and plus, you didn't want to reject the invite, it wasn't like you went out often anyway.
With a bit of convincing, Simon reluctantly agreed and you could enjoy your time there... Right?
Wrong.
Here you were, driving home silently after an argument that happened which led to some unpleasant words being exchanged between the two of you which led to the car being filled with an awkward silence all the way home.
When you arrived home and came up on the driveway, he parked the car and stepped out, slamming the door behind him and walking ahead of you to the front door, fishing the keys out from his pocket to open the door with you following behind him.
Once inside the dimly lit home, and after taking off your shoes, you noticed that simon was leaning up against the wall, eyes locked on your figure and you could tell that he was still thinking about the argument.
You stood in front of him, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife as your eyes locked with his, noticing how they darkened when he looked at you.
The silence was deafening... Just the two of you standing in complete and utter silence as the air grew thicker with tension... And a sort of frustration that was starting to rise up between you...
Suddenly...
Simon stepped forward, and without another thought, your arms reached out, wrapping around his neck as your lips crashed in a sloppy and messy kiss with Simon wasting no time in claiming your mouth, delving his tongue past your lips.
"Fuckin' stubborn woman you are..." He groaned, panting as the kiss broke only for a moment before his lips were back on yours, coming back with more urgency as he wrapped his arms around you, already pulling at your clothes.
Simon began to lead you through the dark home and into the living room, a sense of urgency in your steps as you made your way through the house, the kiss only breaking for a mere few seconds before you were back at it again.
You were a tangled mess, stumbling through the darkness, throwing your clothes off in corners neither of you didn't really care for, ending up with Simon on the couch with you standing between his legs, bodies bare and heated.
"C'mere, baby..." He mutters, the sound coming from deep in his chest as he wraps his arms around you, hands greedily palming your ass to spread your legs and pull you into his lap, straddling him.
He pulls you close, skin to skin with your chest pressed tight against his, lips crashing against each other in another heated, and urgent kiss, coming back with a renewed fervor, his lips moving to your neck and trailing hot, wet kisses down the column of your throat.
"Ride me..." He groans against your skin, nipping and sucking to leave his marks, branding you as his own, with his fingers now digging into the flesh of your hips, moving you on top of him, grinding against his aching cock.
"Let me feel you, love... Let me feel that sweet fuckin' pussy..." He groaned, inhaling your scent like a starved man as he lifted your hips, his face still nuzzled into the crook of your neck, whispering his praises...
As he lifted your hips, one of his hands trailed down the underside of your thigh, spreading you wider as he slowly pushed you down his throbbing cock, stretching you open with a guttural groan.
"Fuck yes... Such a tight fuckin' cunt... Made for me... Just for me, baby..." I breathed, his lips moving upwards again until his lips were right up against your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin as he slowly began to guide your hips...
"Just like that, baby... Ride me just how I like it, yeah? Such a good fuckin' girl..." He praised, moaning lowly into your ear as he guided your movements, letting you adjust before he allowed you to move on your own.
As soon as you found your pace, your hips moving in a steady rocking motion, it drives Simon crazy, his head leaning forward again to bury his face into your neck, moaning and groaning against your skin.
"Mmmn... M'Sorry, baby... For earlier, for the arguments..." He babbled into your skin, kissing your neck and shoulder as he got lost in the pleasure, overcome by the ecstasy that he felt with you, and you only.
"Fuckin' hate fighting with you... Don't wanna fight with you..." He added, his voice holding promise, laced with reverence as he began to thrust up into you, burying his head impossibly deeper against your neck as he held your hips in place.
"Gonna fill you up, baby... Show you how sorry I am, yeah?" He mumbled, relishing in the way your breath hitched with every buck of his hips into you, pistoning his cock deep inside your sopping cunt, driven by how perfect you feel, wrapped tight around him.
"Gonna cum deep inside this perfect pussy... Let you feel how much I love you, sweet girl..."
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months ago
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Oh my god, you laid out freelance inventor perfectly for the justice league to mistake Danny for Batman, especially with John Jones already making his thoughts known that Bruce wayne would be the perfect himbo for Batman lol. Does the entire league pull together to make a beach day seem intentional and end up making so many mistaken assumptions along the way? Either way, I adore what you have going. I'm kinda curious if you had any thoughts on Damians' first reaction to meeting Danny? If not, that's okay. I just love the thought of Danny bonding with Damian in a feral way or through sparing like ghosts tend to in this fandom
The first time Danny meets Damian Wayne is when he comes to the Manor for a surprise visit. He usually would have called ahead or messaged Alfred, but it was a last-minute decision to stop by Gotham on his way to Metropolis.
Initially, Danny was going to a technology expo hosted by Lexcorp, but it was delayed due to a giant fight. A robot had flung Superman through the convention hall, causing severe damage.
Since he now had a weekend free while Lexcorp searched for a new venue, he figured he would spend it with his favorite one percent. Imagine his surprise when he noticed the first thing he noticed was that Bruce had a biological son, one he had told to stay hidden.
He had told his displaced son not to venture out of the manner because he didn't want the public to know about him. Danny hadn't felt this angry in a long, long time.
The glare he sent Bruce had the man flinching, causing Damian, fresh to the Manor and not used to seeing his Father as anything but commanding, to raise an impressed eyebrow. "Kids. Bed. Now. I want to talk to your Father."
"No." Bruce cowered. "Please stay, kids."
"Sorry Bruce, I actually have to touch up some photos for this month's photo op," Tim was quick to say, jumping from his seat.
"I also really need to get started on some paperwork for the gymnastic gym." Dick laughed nervously, dropping out of the handstand he was in. Danny never understood how the young man could randomly spring into flips and handstands.
Damian did not inch from his chair, though. He meets Danny's gaze with a cool upturn of his nose and crossed arms.
"You have no control over me or my actions, Harlot," Damian hissed, but a pale Dick and Tim pushed him out. Jason had been out on some far-off island trip with his friends- Roy, Kori, Artemis, and that delightful Bizzarro who spoke like it was an opposite day every day.
He was the only person to whom he would not talk to Damian. Everyone else would look Danny in the eye and justify why they would assume that a child should be treated as a secret was the correct thing to do.
"Well?" Danny asks when all Bruce does is sit there, hands on his lap and sweating. He narrows his eyes, crosses his arms, and watches the sweat drip down Bruce's head. "Explain yourself."
"Danny, I swear I wasn't aware of Damian. His mother told me she had a miscarriage. If I had known, I would have told you-" Bruce started but was cut off by Danny marching across the room and practically snaring into his face.
"That's not why you're in trouble, Bruce. Why are you treating a nine-year-old boy like a dirty secret?!"
"um..well, that's...you need to understand he's a bit unstable-"
"Choose your next words very carefully, Bruce." Danny cuts him off, recrossing his arms. Bruce swallows before he seems to gather unknown courage and straightens out his back.
"Danny, I don't think Damian needs to be a secret forever, but he needs to adjust before he can go out. He had a hard life with his birth mother and tends to lash out in violent outbursts. Just last week, he pushed Tim off the stairway!"
That's alarming. In fact, it isn't very good to think Tim would not be safe in the same household as Damian. They talk more about it, especially the part where Damian makes clear he wishes to replace Tim and would do nothing to remove him.
Damian is a threat to Tim's well-being. He mentions this to Bruce, who waves it way like a damn fool.
"Tim can handle it."
"Just because he can doesn't mean he should," Danny growls, throwing his arms into the air. "I can't talk to you right now. I can't even look at you."
"Danny, please-"
"Nope. I will tell Tim to stay with me, and I will make plans to take Damian out and about. If you treat someone like a criminal, they will act like one. I'm going to help that young boy settle here, but I will not do it at the expense of another. Don't call or message me." Danny growls, strutting out of the room only to practically run into Damian.
The boy raises his chin as if daring Danny to tell him off for eavesdropping. For one second, Danny is reminded of Jazz, back when she had been so insistent that she was an adult.
His eyes soften, and he knows Damian can see based on his surprise blink. "H kid have you had the chance to go into Gotham yet?"
"Why would I waste my time with the peasants? I am an elite warrior, destined to rule over them."
Huh. He reminds Danny a lot of Jazz now, with her anti-social tendencies- not that she refused to be around people, more like she refused to make friendships with people her age because she thought herself too mature for them- and a little of the battle-hungry ghosts in the Zone.
He can handle that.
"You are to be a general, right? Why are you acting like a common foot soldier?" He asks, watching the boy's entire demeanor freeze over. "A good ruler is not just combat strength. They can take command and can easily step among their fighters. How can you do that if you do not understand the common folk's way of thinking?"
Damian opened and closed his mouth before narrowing his eyes. "You mock me."
Danny shakes his head, falling to his knees so Damian won't need to strain his neck. He keeps the baby talk out of his voice but only barely. He gets the sense that like his sister, Damian would prefer to be treated like a mini adult. "Never. I'm genuinely interested in your thoughts, but you must know that all knowledge is power. Know thy enemy..."
"...as one knows thyself," Damian finishes his quote, looking vaguely intruded. He considers the offer before nodding. "I shall accompany you on your outing and gain valued observations of the average American child."
"Only after you apologize for attacking Tim and tell him to his face how you will not be doing that again," Danny warns, raising a finger at Damian's clouded face. "A good leader does not want insubordination. Attacking Tim did not prove anything but how unreliable you are and how much you fear Tim."
"I do not fear Drake!"
"Then why does his presence so threaten you? Bruce told me how out of all his kids, you seemed so sure you could take him in a fight but not a battle of wits."
Damian's eyes grow cold before he lashes out a hand. Danny catches it quickly, much to the boy's shock. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Not bad, but not what a regular American child would behave. You would have been singled out as a spy the second you stepped in the street."
"....I shall work on my reaction and emotional regulation." Damian yanks his arm free, striding away but not before glancing back at Danny. "You are strange."
Danny smiles. "Thanks, kiddo."
The boy vanishes from sight, and Danny sighs. He must now find Tim and help him pack to stay with him. He also needs to yell at everyone in the Manor, including Alfred. Honestly, that man enables Bruce far too much.
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zephyrchama · 2 months ago
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"It's a little hard to walk like this."
You knew this situation was less than ideal for Beelzebub, but you needed him to put up with it.
That's why you assured him, "I'll move with you. Just act normal."
Beelzebub thought that was easier said than done with you crouched under him. He stood in place while you held on to his lower thighs, feet planted next to his and head held low. You had a plan.
Lucifer was mad. You knew he was going to start nagging and never let go when he eventually got a hold of you. Wandering around in the House of Lamentation by yourself was dangerous for now, so you needed a shield. Someone who could hide you from another demon's wrath. Who better than Beelzebub? He's big. He's kind to you. He will protect you.
This wasn't exactly what Beelzebub had in mind when he said he wanted to protect you. This wasn't the danger he expected nor the method of protection he came up with. You intended to cling to Beelzebub with your hands just above his knee and your legs locked around his calves while in motion, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He took three large steps forward, lumbering ahead with an awkwardly slow and comically exaggerated gait. You were really channeling the spirit of humanity's tree climbing ancestors.
Beelzebub was unsure about the whole situation and paused. "I don't think this is going to work."
"Just keep taking big steps like that," you instructed. "I know this will work. I can feel it."
All Beelzebub could feel was your body flush against him and the heat spreading across his face. Endless gluttony was the least of his worries. He kept wringing his hands and cracking his knuckles, even after they stopped audibly cracking. A fidget toy would have come in handy.
"What are you doing?"
That deep, condescending tone could only belong to one prideful demon. You let out an "eep!" of surprise and tightened your grip in hopes Beelzebub would abscond the two of you to safety.
"Lucifer, hi." Beelzebub was far too polite at times to be a demon. You bopped your head repeatedly against his leg in a universal sign meaning "get me out of here! Run!" But the Avatar of Gluttony only created more distance between his legs. He stood in place like an inflexible kid trying to do a split and tried not to think about where you were.
You hesitated to look up. Lucifer looked like he ate a bowl of rocks for breakfast that morning and washed it down with cold medicine. That is to say, he was not happy.
"Beel," he started. "I'm not in the mood for games. Either you join us for what is going to be a productive discipline session, or you hand them over. Now."
A ring of sweat began to drip down Beelzebub's brow. He did say he would protect you, but also, he had plans to get a new jersey with insulated mesh while they were on sale. It was the last day of the sale. He wanted that shirt. He didn't want to linger on the way you were touching him or how you'd willingly let him take you anywhere he desired. You clung tighter and his brain sprinted a hundred miles a minute.
"I have to leave now," he admitted. It was a good thing the two of you weren't able to make eye contact.
"Nooooo!" You bopped your head against him again, this time in despair. Beelzebub lifted his leg with you on it, like he was offering the sacrificial lamb for slaughter. All he had to say about it was a quiet, almost inaudible "sorry."
Lucifer praised his little brother, "you made a wise decision." You felt his gloved hands hook under your shoulders and sensed malice at your back but you refused to go without a fight.
It was a short fight. The slippery Avatar of Pride hit all your ticklish points, ones you didn't even know existed. All it took was one instance of weakness, a reflexive giggle, and within seconds you were in his hold. Lucifer dangled you at arm's length like a wet pet. You pouted.
Beelzebub's quiet creep out of the room didn't go unnoticed, but you had a bigger problem now.
"You come up with the most ridiculous ideas," Lucifer chided. The first of many nags. "You should know by now it's futile. You're coming with me."
His clutch on you shifted to a more secure hold against his chest. It made writhing around and trying to run away pointless, so you challenged him with more head attacks. All this light head shaking was making you dizzy, but you were a fighter.
"What am I going to do with you?" he sighed.
Your gaze snapped up. You smiled and made an innocent yet logical suggestion. "Let me go?"
"No."
Into the locked office with Lucifer you went.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago
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can i order belgian waffles and soda served by max verstappen? thanks bunny <3
bakery menu
want to submit your own order?? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items available! i'd love to hear from you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for such a nice order! it's rather short, but i love, love, love it! jealous!max my beloved! thank you!!
belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + soda (jealousy) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, jealous!max, jealousy, dirty talk, missionary sex, motor home sex
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"you're a jealous man, max verstappen." you said one night in the garage. your arms crossed and you gaze heavy on him.
he mimic your stance and replied, "i don't want the likes of piastri trying to take my mechanic."
you snorted through your nose, "right." you shifted from one foot the other, "because that weekend in lisbon and that christmas present last year really were because i was employee of the month.... that and somehow my supposed contract with alpine fell through."
max wasn't jealous. he was just concerned.
there should be an age restriction on mechanics. they should be old guys who can still work like they were in their twenties. because if max caught sight of you in your coveralls, looking like a total mess.
you weren't just some cute thing in the garage, you moved with the rest of your team. you were strong for all your time lifting and moving things. but yet carried such soft features that yanked on max's heart like a chain. you seemed so dedicated to getting max his fourth championship.
which was why he was curious why you were in the mercedes garage. he stayed a fair distance with his hat low to keep from any unwanted attention. he wanted to see where this was going.
"this is crazy, george! you really shouldn't be showing me this! oh my god." you said. then you starte to ramble about the aspects of the car. you were practically on your knees to get closer to it.
george tried not to think about you on your knees to hard. he didn't have ill intentions with you. and afterwards, you thanked george before you left, telling him you 'owed him one'. you were impressed by the car, if one red bull had the same specs. the team was pushing you to your limit at times, it didn't help that you had the golden boy of the team stalking in your shadows.
"have a good nice." george said before he watched you walk off.
max caught up with george after you both left the garage, a jealousy coiled in his chest. "george!"
the other man looked over, you far ahead now. he waved to max, "hey, mate."
"what are you doing out near the garage? race's over, man." that press smile hung on max's lips. he could see that you were gaining distance. but if max doesn't set a boundary now. george might get the wrong idea.
"ah, ya know. keepin' busy." max was soon in his personal space, "what are you doing around here?"
"aw, well. looking for my mechanic." he smiled as he placed a hand on george's back, giving it a firm smack. he leaned in to the other man and said, "i hope you know, george, i cum in that every night. it's not right to touch what belongs to another man. we're friends, right?" george nodded and max nodded in response, "so just back off, okay? she doesn't need to be poking around in your garage. and tell toto that she isn't interested in that contract either." then flashed the other man one of his winning smiles before he pulled away from him and went to go find you.
max wasn't a jealous man, he just knew your skills were suited better for the build of red bull.
in the room of his motorhome the night before you had to pack up for the next weekend. there was a fair bit of privacy in the place. it was probably more spacious than your apartment. even though max keeps suggesting you move in with him (the cats would love you). it felt nice to be out of your mechanics clothes, it could be sweltering sometimes. but it was needed when handling such dangerous machinery.
you didn't stray from red bull for long. you were in a shirt that had the logo across your chest, your breasts warping the image in the process and a fresh pair of cotton panties.
max loved the sight of you, how sweet you looked in his space. he remembered the first time you were in his home and your mouth went slack from the sight of it. your first comment was the view, which max let you get a closer look when he fucked you up against the window.
but, he'd have to reign it in a little tonight.
you were curled up with him in bed, your head against his chest while he played with your hair. you lifted your head a little to look at him and he kissed you.
"i saw you were with george today."
"oh! that wasn't anything. he just wanted to show me the car. i was interested in the specs that we could use in red bull... if anyone listened to me."
he smiled, "well." he kissed your forehead, "i always listen to you." he got you onto your back and in between your legs. he was able to move you so easily, for a woman who spent her days lugging around heavy materials, max could easily move you.
you were soft under his touch. in the low lighting of the bedroom. his hands on your hips as he admired you. you blushed a little bit, "i promise there was no funny business. plus george has a girlfriend!"
he got your legs around his waist and chuckled softly, "you think so little of me. i know you wouldn't break my heart that way. only being a team switcher. plus, if george tried to put his hands on you... we'd have a problem." he pressed his clothed cock against you, "but you're my good mechanic, right?"
you swallowed, "you're insatiable."
he pulled at the shirt on you, "only for you. i don't want you getting involved with teams that are less than. you only deserve the best."
"and what's the best?" you asked as the shirt was pulled over your head.
"me."
the two of you got out of your clothes, and max grabbed a condom out of the nightstand drawer. you had already gone through half of the pack that weekend. his hands on your thighs as he gazed at your nude body.
the only thing better than red bull or max's logo across your tits was them being bare for his eyes only. he licked his lips as he brushed his bare cock up against your slit.
"hey!" you yelped.
he chuckled, "quiet. i don't want a noise complaint from the other team. i know you want to scream my name, but tonight we have to keep quiet." he put on the condom and laid you out on the bed. he kissed your jaw as he shifted you hips up against him for a good angle.
he got into you, and shuddered at the feeling. being intimate with you was like a breath of fresh air. even on the days where the smell of car lingered on you and sweat was caked to his skin.
he loved your curves, your smile. how you lit up the garage and were a hard working. your knowledge of cars and how excited you spoke about them. he remembered a time where you could point out cars that passed by when you were having lunch together.
"you feel so good." he said softly, "you just feel like a dream. thank you for taking good care of my car and taking better care of me." he peppered your face with kisses, pushed your hair out the way to access more skin.
you glowed at the touch, it was so simple but yet it left your soul on fire. even when max was a jealous man, you still yearned for his closeness. his kisses and touches, his soft words and how he looked at you. he could have a day from hell, but when he saw you it was like the skies opened for him.
you held his face and brought his lips to yours. his lips were soft, a little raw from his biting while driving earlier in the day. his body felt good against yours. when you pulled away, you smiled at him.
it was like being kissed by sunshine.
he moved against you, your legs around his waist. your nails up near the back of his head. the kisses were passionately. the bed shifted a little with max's movements, but it made your heart leap in your chest.
you then cupped his face and ran your thumb across his bottom lip and smiled. heat in your cheeks as he thrusted. "of course max, a champion only becomes one when he has a championship worthy mechanic."
a shudder went through him, "i like when you talk like that." he said with such affection, "seeing that ego of yours inflate."
you giggled and pressed your forehead to his, "it's warranted. just keep getting those podiums." then kissed him once more.
the rhythm max had was steady and made pleasure circulate through your body. your soft moans were highlighted by the creaking of the bed. the heat inside of you bleed into your hands and feet as he rutted against you.
your nails dragged lazily across his broad shoulders. you panted heavily as max shifted your hips to get a better angle.
"so good for me."
"and you're good for me." he replied. he could feel the wash of warmth in his face, probably staining his cheeks pink. like when he finished a race. but having sex with you was not a race.
"max."
he knew you were getting close. he could feel the shudder through his body. it was like a inferno that he fed into.
you covered your mouth as to not get loud. but max pulled them away from you and pinned you to the soft covers. he silenced with you a kiss as he jackhammered into you. your back arched more, stopped by max's wider chest.
you held onto his hands as he pinned them down and kissed him deeply as you climaxed. your legs tightened around his waist and he continued to move against you. he was close behind you, giving you another searing kiss as he finished in the condom.
his pace slowed to a stop and he felt the heat on his back. he pulled out of you and went to go get rid of the condom. you curled up on the bed and pulled the pillow under your head as you eyed him throwing it out with the others from the weekend.
he got his briefs back on and got you back into his arms. you melted into his touch. in all fairness, you had very little intention of running off to another team. even if red bull drove you crazy, to feel close to max as often as you did felt nice.
if you put your soul into that engine, then he gave his soul over to you.
-
max wasn't a jealous man, but the only thing that could sate the throb of emotion were two things. a multi-year contract with red bull with your name on it and the thin gold chain with a small 'm' pendant. something you could tuck into your uniform while you worked.
he smiled at you, and you wiped grease off your cheek with your gloves, "going to make me win tonight?"
you nodded, "of course." you smiled at him before you pushed hair out of your eyes, "win like always, verstappen. and don't." you pointed at him, "damage my car."
he pulled you by the waist for a soft kiss, "of course." he wasn't a jealous man, but he'd be a fool if he let you go. <3
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entitled-fangirl · 10 days ago
Text
A King in the North.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
Summary: A misunderstanding occurs between the two, resulting in Cregan doubting his ability to keep his wife happy.
Warnings: LIGHT SMUT. Fingering, anger, yelling, talks of sex, talks of cheating, making out, talks of cockwarming, ya know- the works.
A/n: this gif is so beautiful holy shit. Also- based on an ask!!
Part 2
Masterlist
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......................................
"No, but in another life, I mean," She explains as she nuzzles further into his chest. 
The two sat in the Godswood and rested against the heavy bark of a tree. Cregan's cloak was wrapped around her as he tried to ignore the light scratching of the wood on his back. 
"Another life? There's no point in dreaming of one, is there? I have this life, and I am eternally grateful for it," He quietly quips, as if not to disturb the nature around them. "I'm grateful for you. I don't wish for any other life than this."
She shifts in his hold to look up at him. "But that would be spoiling the fun. I know you love me and I know you love your life. But imagine that you lived a different one- what name would you want?"
Cregan gives her a look before sighing and giving in to her whims. He drew her to him as he stared up at the sky through the canopy of branches and the occasional leaves that still remained. "I'm not sure."
"Cregan-"
"-I'm considering your question. Just let me think."
It wasn't a rude scold, more of a soft chide, an assurance that he was going through with the question. She could hear the sound of him rubbing a hand over the scruff on his face. 
"I used to be angry at my father for not naming me after his father."
It was a whispered declaration. Knowing Cregan as she did, odds are, no one else knew that about him. He never willingly threw out personal information like this, especially about his father who had died too early and left Cregan with a hole in his heart and all of the North to lead.
She reached up to lightly brush at his cheek. "Remind me his name."
Cregan hummed. "My grandfather? Benjen."
She admired Cregan from her place against his chest. 
And Cregan knew that well. He could tell from his peripheral vision that she was doing so, but he made no motion to acknowledge it. He only stared ahead at the trees and dead grass that spanned as far as the tree line would let him.
But the feeling of her light breaths against his jaw and her fingers across his cheek were almost too much to ignore. 
They had been married for a few moons now, and in that time, they had indulged themselves in the other quite well and quite often, but he still found that he could never have enough of her. 
So he dared to meet her eye.
She had a look in her eyes that he couldn't quite place. A kind that was not lustful per se, but still made his cheeks a bright red every time he saw it. 
Admiration, maybe?
Her fingers still danced across his cheek as her eyes slowly took in his face, starting with eyes and wandering down, taking extra time at his lips. "I would consider you more of a Torrhen," she admittedly so softly, he barely registered it.
A breath escaped him and his a small spark lit in his eyes. "Torrhen, you say?"
She nods, her eyes now shamelessly admiring his lips. "Yes. You could be a king, couldn't you?"
"Fu…" he trails off in a breath. His large hand grabs hers, pulling her hand down to his lips. He kisses her palm, trying not to get too caught up in the sight of her watching him do so. 
He then pulls her hand down to his chest as a way to ground the two. "Careful, sweet girl. You speak of treason so openly."
She doesn't let this go. "Few know the implications of calling you such a name."
He considers her words. "I suppose. But still." He tilts her head up to look at him. "No more talks of rulers besides our Queen. Understand me?"
"You know I only jest."
"I do. But I'd hate for such words to get to someone without understanding of your wit."
"Of course. I understand." She pushed herself up, brushing her lips against his. "Torrhen Stark."
He let out a low groan, trying to control the way his body reacted to her words. He couldn't help leaning in just enough to try to connect their lips.
She got up quickly, managing to get out of his arms due to his guard being down.
He reached out to try to grab her at the last second, but she was too quick. "Little minx."
She grinned widely, pulling the cloak around herself. "I'll see you at Winterfell."
He told himself he just didn't wish to scold her, but in all honesty, he adored the nickname. It stirred something in him.
A few weeks had passed since then, and winter was approaching closer by the day.
That meant Cregan had less and less time with his wife. 
It had began to wear on the poor man, the stress getting the best of him. Dark circles were always under his eyes during this time of year. 
The time away from Cregan had hurt her as well, but it showed in different ways. 
The time spent together every night was now spent apart.
He spent every night stuck at a desk with various letters and scribes around him as he began to prepare for his trek to the Wall.
She spent every night in a very different manner.
"My lord," A hushed voice came through the door. "My lord!"
He would usually send away whoever it was, but he hesitated this time. "Enter."
The door opened and his wife's handmaiden walked in. His full attention moved to her as he stood. She would only be here if it was something involving his wife. 
"I… Forgive me, my lord. I've not entered on hopeful circumstance."
His blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"
"It's… a personal matter of my lady. She has no knowledge of my being here."
Cregan's weight shifted from foot to foot. "Speak."
"It's the fourth night now. I thought of it as nothing at first, but the fourth night now means I owe it to you to tell you."
He was growing frustrated. "Speak," he growled.
"I believe she is bringing another man into her bed, my lord."
Cregan said nothing. He was frozen, as if the northern air had finally gotten to the burly man. "W… What?"
The handmaiden had never heard the Warden of the North sound unsure of himself. It made her feel guilty for having to be the one to tell him.
"How do you know?" His broken voice asked. 
"I've heard… noises from the chambers. If it is true, my lord, the man would have to come from the balcony, for when I am not present, a guard is at least there at the door. And I've spoken to him. He says he'd never let a soul by without telling you."
He wrung his hands nervously, a trait that was foreign to him. "Leave me with my thoughts."
She lowered her head. "I am truly sorry, my lord."
"If it happens again, you are ordered to tell me."
"Of course. G'night, Lord Stark."
The door shut and Cregan slumped in his chair, an exhaustion overtaking him like never before. 
A few more hours passed before he couldn't find himself able to focus on the papers anymore. 
He dropped his quill down with a huff and abandoned the table completely, moving to his shared chambers. 
His hand paused on the handle of the door as he felt the pitiful look from the guard. 
He didn't want pity. 
Cregan Stark fucking hated pity. 
He threw the door open, partly hoping to see the man who was killing him from the inside out, but he was met with his side of the bed empty and a slumbering wife on her own. 
He stepped to her side of the bed, running a hand over her hair, jealous of the warmth that radiated off of her in waves. 
He shook his head and dressed for the night, fighting with himself whether to hold her closer or keep her further away.
The next morning, she woke up to a loud noise, prompting her to sit up in alarm. 
"Cregan?"
The man mentioned looked up from his work. "Hmm?"
"What are you doing?"
Thick boards were now being nailed into the walls of the balcony doorway, the sun barely visible through the ones already done. 
He shrugged. "Fixing something." He looked between the boards and her eyes, trying to catch something. A slip of any kind. "Is this a bother to you?"
"Well, only to my sleep." She wanted to complain and ask him to do it later in the day, but he valued what time he did have to be in the room, and she'd never ask him to change it. 
"Oh, I imagine it will be," he muttered softly and began to loudly pound another nail in.
She didn't care enough to question more of his antics, getting up and throwing a decent enough cloak over herself and leaving the room to start her day. 
Cregan's eyes followed her, and a guilt only then began to gnaw at him. 
She gave him no reaction. Nothing. She had nothing to hide, it would seem. Still, he wouldn't take the chance. 
He wouldn't let another man come in and do the one thing meant for him. Just his. 
Wardens for the North will come and go, but no one would touch her if he had any say.
Insecurity was something the Stark had never encountered before, and it terrified him.
But before he could dwell on it for too long, he forced another nail into the board.
Because of his earlier shenanigan, Cregan had neglected the work he needed to truly be doing, making his night even longer than it already was.
Every second filled him with more and more dread as he waited to see if her handmaiden would appear. 
And surely enough, she did.
"My lo-"
The words couldn't be uttered, the door not fully opened before Cregan threw his chalice against the wall and stormed passed the spooked woman. 
He'd kill the very man who dared to look at his wife. 
He'd kill whoever let him pass. 
He tried not to think of how angry, above all else, he was at her. 
Because that anger was only sadness, almost to the point of tears when he considered it. 
What had he done wrong? He knew his time with her was not much during the winter, but resorting to finding pleasure from another man entirely? It made him sick. 
He didn't realize how fast he was walking until he stood outside of the chamber doors. 
The guard looked at him with a grimace. It was clear that this time, Cregan was coming in at just the right time. 
He'd have to apologize to her guard for having to listen to that for so long. 
"Ah-" then a long, breathy groan sounded from beyond the door. "Oh, g- oh, Tor-"
He threw the door open, not caring for the thud or the way he worried it may come of the old hinges. 
But he freezes up as soon as he sees what laid inside of the room. 
His pretty little wife laid across the furs of their bed in one of Cregan's tunics, the fabric puddling around her due to its size. But that's not the part that caught his attention. 
It was her middle and ring fingers that she had pushed deep inside of her, her hand covered in her juices. 
Seems she had froze as well, for her hand was completely still and her eyes were now on his in a horrified expression.
His breath caught in his throat. "W-Wife?" He asked hesitantly.
She slowly pulled her fingers out of her, and Cregan felt his pants tighten. She then sat up. The tunic covered more of her than he wanted, and what wasn't, she covered by pulling her legs up. She took in a sharp breath, "Forgive me."
She was beginning to cry. 
But Cregan was still frozen. His mind was struggling to comprehend it all.
"I-" she sniffled. "I was getting so lost without your touch. I… I should have waited. A good wife would wait. Not do it all herself. That would be selfish," she looked up at him. "Wouldn't it?"
The sight of her frightened confession and shaking body snapped him back to. He pushed himself toward the foot of the bed. "I… I don't think it is," he whispered. 
He tried to ignore her fingers as they fiddled with the strings at the top of the tunic. 
"You looked so angry."
He gritted his teeth and looked back at the door, as if he could see the event that happened only moments before. "I was."
"At me," she clarified.
"No," he chastised. But this didn't clear everything up. He forced himself to not get lost in her pitiful eyes. "Whose name was that on your lips?"
"Hmm?" She seemed lost, as if he had asked a stupid question. 
His head ticked to the side. "Don't do that. Whose name was that?"
"Yours," she said as if it was obvious. 
"Don't lie," he growled. He couldn't help it as much as he tried. His heavy steps moved him to around the bed to her side now. "Look at me."
She forced her head up, tears now streaming down her face. 
"Whose. Name. Do you moan. When I'm away?"
"Yours," she began to sob. "I only think of you!"
His anger only grew. He grabbed her jaw and leaned over her. It was an impending sight to see such a large man tower over a smaller woman in her bed. "I'll give you one more chance before I give up entirely. I'll not have a marriage built of lies."
"Cre-" she hiccuped. "Cregan, you're frightening me."
"I know, but I need the truth."
She now understood the fear in the eyes of his enemies when Cregan entered a room. 
He was a frightening sight when he wished to be.
"If you didn't like the name, you should have said so," she whispered.
It clicked in his mind. 
Fuck. 
He pulled away as if burned, and stalked to the doorway, poking his head out to the guard. "Tell me the name you've heard these last nights."
"I-I believe it was Torrhen, my lord."
"Fuck!" Cregan yelled out to no one in particular. 
He brought his head into his hands, making himself take deep breaths. 
"You're dismissed for the night."
"My lo-"
"Get. Out."
Cregan shut the door, softly the time. 
He turned to see the woman bawling on the furs of their shared bed. "I owe you more apologies than my words can describe."
She shook her head, her clean hand wiping back and forth, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Don't. I was selfish. I'm a horrid wife to you."
"I'm not angry at you," he persisted. 
She paused and looked up at him. "What then?"
"They told me you were unfaithful to me, and I panicked. And all this time you've-" He sighed. "You've only been busy with yourself."
When she said nothing, he continued. "Moaning the name of another man?" He chuckled lightly, "Another man, my arse." He looked down at her, seeing that the tears were beginning to stop. He grabbed her other hand, only still barely wet with her moisture, and he cursed at the sweet thought of what he had truly walked in on. "Do these pleasure you as well as I can?"
She shook her head. 
He nodded. "I can imagine. You should have only asked, my love."
"You're busy-"
"And you can keep me company," he teased as he sat down next to her. He nipped at her ear, "You can always rest on my cock while I work."
She let out a gasp at that, her hiccups now moving into small laughs.
"Would you do that?" He tried again. "Would you warm my cock while your king works?"
His words were beginning to have an effect on her. 
"Hmm?" He asked, trying for an answer. "Would that keep such an eager woman at bay? I need an answer from you, sweet girl."
Her mouth opened a few times, only to close again. Finally, she only nodded.
"Good. Now, if you decide to forgive me- Make yourself decent and join me, hmm? You'll find that your king may request your presence if you take too long."
He could see the light come back to her eyes. 
"I'll be waiting," he said as he kissed her temple and moved out of the room. 
...........................................
A/n: a part 2 is in order 👀
Edit: Here's part 2!!!
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dreamescapeswriting · 18 days ago
Text
Unlucky Night ~ BC
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‧��˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.1K 
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: strangers to friends, to potential lovers, cute, fluffy, chan acting like a protector - we stan a king - 
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Chan x GN!Reader 
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST
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You sat at the bar, your fingers gripping the cool glass of your drink as you stared ahead, trying to ignore the man next to you. His presence was almost suffocating and you'd been doing your best to ignore him and pretend he wasn't there but it was becoming increasingly more difficult with each passing moment.
He had sidled up to you over an hour ago, and despite your polite rejections, he persisted like a shadow you couldn’t shake off. Even the barman had attempted to make the guy leave you alone but he was persistent in staying right where he was. Claiming he was a 'paying' customer and it was a 'free country'. You started to grab your things trying to move away from him, you'd come out for a nice relaxing night and so far you hadn't gotten that.
"Come on, sweetheart. I’m just trying to have a good time," the man said, his voice slurred from one too many drinks, he stunk of vodka and the smell made you want to vomit. You clenched your jaw, keeping your eyes fixed on the shelves of liquor behind the bar.
"I already told you, I'm not interested," you replied, your voice sharp but measured. You didn’t want to escalate the situation, but every time he spoke, your patience wore thinner. You'd been taught to always politely decline since you never knew what someone was capable of, but right now you wanted to smack the guy over the head with the glass he was nursing his drink from.
He leaned closer, invading your space, and you had to force yourself not to recoil.
"You’re playing hard to get, huh?" He chuckled, the sound grating. His breath was catching on your head as he moved closer to you, your hands clenching into fists.
"I like a challenge," he whispers, you can hear him licking his lips and it finally pushes you past your limit. You took a deep breath, glancing around the bar for an escape, but none seemed available. The bartender was busy, and no one else seemed to notice the tension between you and the man.
"I’m not playing anything," you said, your tone firmer now. "I came here for some quiet, and you’re making it difficult." He raised an eyebrow, clearly not getting the message—or choosing not to, whatever his small mind could come up with.
"Quiet? In a bar? You don’t look like the quiet type to me." He moved closer, his shoulder brushing yours, making your skin crawl and your stomach churn. If this was what he was like in public you didn't want to imagine what it would be like if you'd run into him in a dark alleyway on the way home.
"Let me buy you another drink, and maybe we can go somewhere else after." You finally turned to face him, your gaze hard and unflinching. You wanted him to finally get the point through his tiny brain,
"I said no." Each word was laced with frustration. You were at the end of your rope with him and you were two seconds away from insulting him,
"I don’t want a drink. I don’t want to go anywhere with you." you figured he would finally understand that you meant no but of course not. He didn’t back down. Instead, he smirked! Smirking as if this was all part of some game you were both playing and that you were just trying to test him.
"You’re being feisty. I like that." He placed a hand on the bar, trapping you on one side.
"Don’t be like that, babe. Let’s just—"
"Stop calling me 'babe,'" you snapped, your voice rising slightly. "I’m not interested. Leave me alone." You snapped a little harsher at him this time, earning the attention of the couple on the other side of the bar from you.
The man’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his composure, leaning even closer. He shrugged his shoulders and smirked at you, his eyes looking you up and down as he drank in your appearance.
"I think you just need to loosen up." That was it. Your heart pounded with a mix of anger and anxiety, and you could feel the adrenaline kicking in. You had to get out of this situation before it escalated any further. Your eyes scanned the room again, desperate for a way out, and that’s when you spotted a guy sitting alone. You weren't sure he was going to be any better than the arsehole beside you but he seemed nice enough, his eyes were on his laptop,
Without another thought, you stood abruptly, pushing the bar stool back and making a beeline for his table, hoping that this stranger could help you where words had failed.
Your heart raced as you made your way toward the table at the back of the pub, weaving through the crowd while trying to appear as calm as possible. This was your one shot of getting away from the creep and you didn't want to blow it, you could still feel the man’s gaze following you, his presence still heavy on your back, but you forced yourself to focus on your next step. You didn’t know this guy at the table but you hoped he was as nice as he appeared to be,
He was sitting alone, his attention on his laptop when you reached his table, you bit your lip a little. Hesitation washed over you as you stood there for a moment, unsure how to begin or how to even ask him for his help but here you were. He glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to concern as he noticed the panic flickering in your eyes.
“Excuse me…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed, forcing yourself to speak louder, more confidently, you didn't want to come across as creepy like the guy from the bar.
“I—I know this is weird, but… there’s a guy over there who’s been following me all night. He won’t leave me alone. Can you… Can you help me?” The man blinked once, taking in your words, his gaze briefly flicking past you toward the bar where the man still lingered. His jaw clenched so hard you could see it from where you were standing, and without hesitation, he slid to the side, making space on the bench next to him.
“Sit down,” he said softly, his voice calm but authoritative. You didn’t waste a second before slipping into the seat beside him, your heart hammering against your chest. The second you sat down, you felt an immediate sense of relief, though the anxiety still churned in your stomach.
"I'm Chan," he introduced himself quietly as you nodded along with him, a small smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him. It was now that you realised he had the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen in your life.
"yn." You whispered back to him, a shy smile forming on your lips as your chest began to flutter. He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours as he spoke in a low voice meant only for you.
“I’m going to play along, okay? But I need to ask—can I put my arm around you? It’ll make this look more believable...but only if you're comfortable," Your breath caught in your throat. You were grateful he even asked, considering the situation, but the way his voice was so gentle and steady like he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, made you nod almost instantly.
“Yeah,” you whispered, still feeling nervous but trusting him. Without missing a beat, Chan slid his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a way that felt protective rather than invasive. He let his fingers rest lightly on your shoulder, not gripping too tightly but enough to make it seem like a natural gesture. His body was warm against yours, and for the first time that night, you didn’t feel as vulnerable.
His free hand found yours on the table, his fingers gently intertwining with yours and you were sure your heart was about ready to throw itself at him now.
“There,” he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “How’s that? He still watching?” You dared a glance toward the bar, where the man was glaring in your direction, clearly displeased by the sudden shift in your attention.
“Yeah, he is,” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly. You were worried he would be there all night and Chan would eventually have to leave you alone.
“Don’t worry,” Chan said, his voice soothing. “I’ve got you. Just follow my lead.” Then, to sell the act even further, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to make it seem real. The warmth of the gesture spread through you, and though your heart was still racing, it wasn’t from fear anymore.
“Babe, you okay?” he said louder, for anyone watching to hear. His thumb stroked your hand as he continued to play the part effortlessly.
“I didn’t think you’d make it tonight.” You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Yeah, I just… got held up,” you mumbled, trying to match his tone. Chan squeezed your hand gently, leaning closer again, his voice dropping back to a whisper.
“We’ll leave in a few minutes. I’ll walk you out, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t follow.” You nodded again, your pulse slowly calming with every second that passed by his side.
"I hate that he's made you panic, I can feel how hard your heart is racing," He whispered to you, but little did he know your heart wasn't racing because of the creep - well, maybe at first - but now it was all for him.
"So what brings you to the bar?" You asked with a smile, and he smirked turning his laptop screen around to show you what it was he was working on but you couldn't make sense of it.
"Music, I come here to focus sometimes when I can't do with the silence of my studio," He smiled at you as you stared at the screen, his eyes lingering on yours as you scanned over the screen,
"What about you, beautiful?" He asked with a smile, your eyes slowly looked back at him and you felt your body heating up from the attention,
"Long day, I wanted some quiet after work but I guess I was unlucky...but it's improving," You whispered, his cheeks turning pink as you flirted back with him,
"Well, I'm glad I could make your unlucky night that much better." He winked at you.
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What was meant to be just a few minutes of pretending stretched into something much longer between the two of you? You and Chan settled into an easy rhythm of conversation, your initial nerves melting away as you found yourself drawn into his warmth, both literally and figuratively. His arm was still draped casually over your shoulders, felt natural now, and his presence put you at ease. At first, you kept sneaking glances toward the bar, checking to see if the man was still watching, but after a while, you stopped looking, forgetting he was there altogether. Chan had a way of making you forget about the unease from earlier, all of it melting away into nothing.
His laugh was infectious, and the stories he shared with you made you feel like you'd known him longer than just a couple of hours now. He had a talent for making you feel like the only person in the room, even as the pub bustled around you.
“So, you’ve never been to Australia?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes. You shook your head, laughing lightly.
“Nope. Never. The farthest I’ve travelled is from home to Korea.”
“Well, you’re missing out,” he said with a grin.
“When you do go, I’ll give you all the recommendations. Best beaches, places to eat... And don’t worry, no kangaroos in the cities. Everyone always asks about the kangaroos.” You giggled, holding your hand over your mouth as you tried not to get too loud.
“I wasn’t even thinking about the kangaroos.” Chan leaned back slightly, his hand still resting comfortably on your shoulder as he continued.
“Good, ‘cause they’re honestly a bit terrifying up close.” He shuddered playfully before you giggled at him.
This whole thing had started as a tense situation and had suddenly turned into something that felt more like a spontaneous first date. You found yourself telling him things you didn’t expect to share, laughing at his jokes, and learning about the person behind the calm, cool exterior.
At some point, the pub began to thin out, the bustling energy of the night slowly quieting down. You glanced at your phone and blinked, surprised.
"Wow, it’s already past midnight.” Chan raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely surprised.
“Really? We were supposed to leave a few minutes ago, right?” His lips curled into a small smile. “Guess we got a little carried away.” He laughed softly as you joined in, realizing that you hadn’t even thought about the man who’d been following you. Turning to look toward the bar, you saw that he was long gone. You hadn’t noticed when he’d left, but now it felt like a distant memory, something insignificant compared to the night you’d spent talking with Chan.
“Looks like he’s gone,” you said with a relieved smile. Chan’s arm tightened slightly around your shoulders as he followed your gaze. Part of him was a little disappointed that this was over but he was relieved you weren't going to have some creep following you around.
“Good. I didn’t want to leave you alone until I was sure.” He looked back at you, his eyes softening. “Still, let me walk you out and get you a cab. Just to be safe.” You nodded, grateful once again for his thoughtfulness. He stood up, offering you his hand, and you took it as he helped you to your feet. His hand lingered in yours for a moment before he dropped it, guiding you toward the door with a protective closeness that hadn’t faded since you first approached him.
The cool night air hit you as you stepped outside, refreshing against your warm skin. Chan stayed beside you, his arm gently brushing yours as you stood at the path. He waved down a cab, making sure it stopped directly in front of you.
Before you stepped inside, he turned to you, that playful smile back on his face.
“So, I’m guessing we didn’t get to talk about everything yet.” You laughed softly and shook your head at him.
“No, I guess we didn’t.”
“Then how about we finish this conversation another time?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. He wasn't usually the type to pick up people in bars and ask for their number but with you, he'd felt something, a genuine connection that he didn't want to let go of.
“I think we owe ourselves a less stressful night.” He finished as you nodded at him.
“I’d like that, a lot.” You whispered before the two of you exchanged numbers, the glow from his phone illuminating his face as he saved your contact. After sending a quick message so you had his number too, he looked at you again.
“I’ll text you. We’ll set something up.” He suggested. You nodded, opening the door to the taxi and sliding into the backseat, Chan leaned down slightly, his hand resting on the doorframe as he looked at you. He didn't want you to go but it was getting too late now.
“Take care, alright? And text me when you get home so I know you’re safe.”
“I will,” you promised, giving him one last grateful smile. “Thank you… for everything.”
He grinned, his dimples showing as he gave you a small wave. “Anytime.”
The cab pulled away, and as you watched him grow smaller in the distance, you couldn’t help but feel like tonight had turned out much differently than you’d expected but much, much, better than you'd expected.
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You stared at Chan as the two of you sat in the same booth table you'd been in a year ago today,
“A whole year, huh?” Chan’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. He squeezed your hand, giving you that soft smile that still made your heart flutter, even after all this time.
“Yeah, hard to believe,” you said, grinning up at him. “Feels like it was just yesterday that I walked up to your table and asked you to save me from that creep.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Best decision you ever made.” He winked playfully, and you nudged him in the ribs.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not wrong,” you teased, squeezing his hand back as you found a familiar table toward the back—the same one where you’d sat with him that night.
As you both settled into the booth, the memories of that night played vividly in your mind. You remembered how nervous you’d been, approaching a stranger for help, how you’d ended up spending hours lost in conversation with him, and how he’d walked you out, making sure you were safe. It felt surreal to be sitting here again, but this time, things were different. This time, he wasn’t just playing the part of your boyfriend.
He was your boyfriend.
“So, how do you feel about this anniversary?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “One year of dealing with me. Not bad, right?” You laughed softly, resting your head on his shoulder as he squeezed you, softy, pressing his lips to your temple.
“One year of putting up with your terrible jokes, you mean?” His laughter joined yours, a deep, happy sound that you never got tired of hearing.
“Hey, you love my jokes.” he whined at you making you smirk,
“Debatable,” you teased, though the smile on your face made it clear just how much you adored him. “But really… this has been the best year.”
Chan tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as he looked down at you.
“Same here. Best year of my life, actually.” Your heart swelled as you looked at him, slowly leaning in and kissing him softly.
"Happy anniversary baby," You whispered before he leant his forehead on yours,
"Happy Anniversary, stranger." He winked before you giggled, cuddling into his side again.
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rueclfer · 18 days ago
Note
smau request- maaaybe tomura trying to convince reader to wake up and hang with him super late bc he’s def a night owl & they end up staying up until sunrise; flirtation & heavy petting etc as we love to see it
i wrote this at 2am my brain is fried but waow loser/slightly more confident shiggy ily+ enjoy this mix of written and smau <3
twilight zone // tomura shigaraki
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"oh my fucking god, knock much?" tomura exclaims, spinning around towards you in his swivel chair.
"shut up." you yawn, rubbing your eyes away from the bright PC screen illuminating the room. "like you weren't expecting me or something."
from his desk, tomura watches you click the door behind you and crawl into his bed. you pull the comforter up to your chin and nestle into his mattress as if he was the one that intruded on you in his own bedroom.
"wasn't half-sure if you were even going to come." he murmurs before shutting down his PC, diminishing the only light source in the room.
you feel the bed shift beside you as he stiffly lays down. "might as well light some candles too while you're at it." you tease.
despite how groggy you sounded, tomura could hear you signature smirk in your voice- the one that never failed to irritate the fuck out of him. he hadn't thought this far ahead- wasn't even expecting you to respond to him this late at all. all he could think about was how quick his late-night confidence was dwindling into nothing, making him squirm a bit in his own bed.
"i'd prefer to not have to look at your face." he mutters.
owch.
you don't respond. the exhaustion was ready to take over once your head hit the pillow. you think about the last time you had been in his bed like this.
it was about a month ago when you found yourself too drunk to even form a cohesive sentence. he didn't understand what you were blabbering about, but once he saw your swollen lips, flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, and handle of whiskey under your arm, he just assumed the worst.
you were drunk, touch starved, and desperate, but of course he knew better than to let you sloppily smash your lips into his like you intended two when you stumbled into his doorway. he spent that night half asleep in his gaming chair, periodically reaching over to make sure you were still breathing with his trash can pulled up next to your side of the bed.
once you sobered up the next day, he scolded you. relentlessly. strings of obscenities dripping from his mouth.
from that point on, he made sure to always find a way to keep you two at bay- something that he himself wasn't even sure how to go about. elbow nudges. kicking your feet under the dining room table. laying your legs over his lap on the couch without you asking. pats on shoulder. all to make sure that night never repeated- unsure if he could handle you throwing yourself all over him again.
"are you fucking falling asleep?" you feel a jolt on your shoulder as he shakes you awake. "wake up."
"i'm tired." you whine.
"well stop. i didn't invite you here to sleep in my bed." he huffs.
"the fucks got you up, then?"
"nothing."
you go silent for a moment.
"don't be annoying or else i'll leave." you deadpan.
"don't ask stupid questions then." he returns the attitude. "isn't it obvious? i can't sleep. can't even game right now. i just want to..." he voice falters at the end.
"...hang out with you, i guess."
oh.
your jaw slightly gapes open in surprise, spikes of heat crawling up your neck.
you tightly grip the fabric of the comforter. "well, when you say it like that, it sounds like you actually like me." you chuckle.
"didn't say that. we live together. bothering you is my only option."
"lucky you, i love when you bother me." you scoot closer, noses onto a few inches away from one another. "and even more when i bother you."
"yeah, i know. it's like you can't resist me or something." he pulls the comforter up over his mouth, shyly muffling his words.
"i should be thanking you then, right? thank you so much, tomu, for letting me lay in your bed with you. please. i want you. i need you. it's all i can think about when i'm just across the hall from you. " you roll your eyes.
he scoffs. "wouldn't be the first time you were pathetically begging for me either."
"as if." you spit. "i'd never."
"but you have."
a beat of silence passes. you press your lips together as hotness comes over your body while the events of that night surges back to you.
"you said you'd never bring that up again." you clench your teeth, cringing at the memory of tomura retelling that night's endeavors to you the morning after.
"needed to humble you a bit." he chuckles. "told you it's not a big deal though if you're still embarrassed about it."
"no shit, i'm still embarrassed." you tug the covers up to your nose. "i tried getting at you and you rejected me. i'll never live that down, tomu."
tomura goes quiet for a moment. he must've been thinking. he does that often- retreat back into his head when he isn't sure about what else to say. or maybe he had finally fallen asleep.
you glanced over his shoulder to the analog clock sitting on his desk.
4:27AM.
it was late- or early. maybe these past few sleepless nights had finally caught up to him, hopefully to save you from having to relive an embarrassing moment.
to him, tomura's brain was malfunctioning. crashing. blue screen error.
"uh. wait." he begins, breaking the silence. "reject' isn't the right word. you were drunk. i just did what anyone else would have."
"call it what you want. i just wanted a smooch and you weren't with it. it's whatever, i'm over it, you heartbreaker." you dramatically sigh.
"well, i'll give you one now if it'll get you to shut up."
it was your turn to error and crash now.
"really?" your eyes widen.
tomura's breathing stops. he wasn't sure what gave him the confidence to say that outloud. maybe it was because he couldn't clearly see your face. it was almost like you weren't there- like he was speaking out into the void that made it so easy for those words to slip out.
he didn't mean it. right?
"yeah."
fuck.
"-if you want though." he quips.
please shut the fuck up.
"last month wasn't a rejection. i just didn't want you to only want me when you're drunk, you know."
stop talking.
"but you're sober now and we're talking about it and i just-"
your lips crash into his. it catches you off guard as much as it does to him. despite how much you enjoyed listening to him ramble out his nervousness, you couldn't risk losing another opportunity to kiss him.
your hands crawl up to the side of his neck, rubbing the tender skin below his jaw as you draw him closer to you. the floodgates have opened now. tomura met your lips with the same eagerness.
you were pressed up against one another, legs intertwined, sharing a breath and heartbeats as your hands glided over each other's bodies.
your stomach was twisting with anxiety. how long had you been waiting for this moment? all of those shy glances around the apartment, subtle touches, and hidden affections had clearly not gone unnoticed.
his hand runs from the nape of your neck to your lower back where he slips his hand under your shirt, causing you to pull away in surprise from the sudden contact.
"your hands are freezing, tomu." you gasped. "what the fuck?"
"sorry." he sheepishly mutters against your lips. he keeps his hand against the soft skin of your back, lightly rubbing the area as an apologetic gesture as it warms against your body.
"sorry." you repeat, humiliation starting to creep up your neck as you two settle with the realization of what line you two had just crossed.
a beat of silence passes.
"um. so." he coughs.
"so...yeah." you respond.
it wasn't long before you two started giggling to one another like a couple of children.
"shut up." you laugh, hiding your face into the pillow.
"guess i did say you coukd have anything you want if you came over." he breathlessly chuckles.
"please. shut. up." you squeak out. "i'm going to sleep. it's already like..." you peer over his shoulder. "almost 5:00AM, tomu. good fucking night."
you turn around, letting your back face him. you could die right now. melt into this mattress and into nothing. thank god it was dark and thank god he shared this humiliation with you.
he slings his arm around your waist, bringing himself flushed against your back.
"i'm not tired." he mumbles into the back of your neck, peppering kisses into the soft skin. "stay up with me."
you mentally kick yourself. because you do- not that there was much left of the night to get through, anyways, but because when the night's haze dissipates, you'll be dealt with a bigger issue that you wouldn't be able to pass off as a drunken mistake.
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