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#just don’t look too hard and we’ll be okay
regressionschool · 2 days
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Scene: Doesn’t that feel better?
The soft glow of the morning sun filtered into the nursery as Chloe sat on the edge of her bed, wearing her pull-ups proudly under her favorite pink shirt. She had been at this for three days now—trying so hard to prove she was ready to be a big girl. Her mommy, Vanessa, walked into the room, her usual warm smile lighting up her face.
“Good morning, my big girl!” Vanessa said brightly, clapping her hands together in mock excitement. “How’s my potty-training star doing today?”
Chloe’s face lit up, her cheeks blushing a little as she proudly patted the front of her dry pull-up. “Still dry, Mommy!” she announced, her voice filled with pride.
Vanessa beamed, kneeling beside her. "That's amazing, Chloe! You’re growing up so fast. Soon enough, no more wiping bums for Mommy," she said with a laugh, giving Chloe a playful nudge.
Chloe giggled harder, squirming a little at the idea. "No more wipes!" she echoed, though a tiny part of her felt... uneasy about the thought.
Vanessa kept smiling, her voice excited but warm. "And think about all the other big girl things we’ll get to do now! No more diapers means you can start doing all the grown-up things that Mommy does."
Chloe blinked, looking up at Vanessa, a small frown tugging at the corners of her lips. "Like what, Mommy?"
Vanessa’s eyes twinkled as she reached over and ruffled Chloe’s hair. "Well, for starters, no more bottles before bed, right? Big girls don’t need bottles anymore. You’ll drink from a regular cup, just like Mommy."
Chloe hesitated, her fingers still gripping a block tightly. Her bottle before bed had always been her favorite part of the evening. The warm milk, the soothing suckling—it helped her drift off to sleep. She felt a small knot form in her stomach, but she nodded anyway. "O-oh... okay."
Vanessa tilted her head, watching Chloe’s reaction carefully. "And pacifiers, too! You won’t need your paci anymore, right? Big girls don’t use those."
Chloe’s heart sank a little deeper, the thought of giving up her pacifier making her squirm again. She chewed her lip, a small frown forming on her face as she played with the block in her hand. "N-no more paci?" she whispered, more to herself than to Vanessa.
Vanessa smiled sweetly, ignoring the hint of anxiety in Chloe’s voice. "That’s right, baby! And guess what else? Big girls can sleep without their stuffies, too. No need for teddy to keep you company anymore when you’re so grown-up!"
Chloe froze, her hands still clutching the blocks, her mind racing. No stuffies? Her stuffed animals had always been a source of comfort, especially at night. The thought of giving them up made her stomach twist even more.
"And when you're fully potty trained," Vanessa continued, "maybe it’ll be time to stop daycare. You’ll be too grown-up for all the baby things. Maybe you could come to work with Mommy instead." Vanessa’s tone was cheerful, her words floating out like exciting possibilities.
But to Chloe, it all felt overwhelming. No more bottles, no more pacifiers, no more stuffies, and now no more daycare? She liked daycare. She liked playing with the toys, and the softness of everything. She wasn’t ready to give all that up. The knot in her stomach tightened, and she squirmed uncomfortably on the floor.
Vanessa leaned in closer, her voice still warm but now a little softer. "Of course, all those changes will happen because you’re doing so well, Chloe. You’ve been keeping those pull-ups dry like such a big girl. Soon, we’ll get rid of them altogether, and you won’t need any of your baby things. Isn’t that exciting?"
Chloe swallowed hard, her heart thumping in her chest. The weight of everything Vanessa had said was suddenly too much. She looked down at her pull-ups, the anxiety bubbling up inside her, her mind swirling with images of losing her comforting routines, her babyish comforts slipping away from her.
She fidgeted, squeezing her legs together instinctively, but the need to pee that had been building up was now impossible to ignore. The pressure in her bladder was growing, but her thoughts were too muddled to focus on holding it in.
Vanessa’s eyes were sharp, watching Chloe closely as she fidgeted. "Oh, but don’t worry, sweetie. All these changes only happen because you’re my big girl now, making it to the potty all by yourself. Big girls don’t need diapers, or bottles, or stuffies. You’re ready for that, right?"
Chloe’s eyes filled with panic. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t want to be a big girl—not like that. The thought of losing everything she loved, the things that made her feel safe and small, was too much. Without thinking, she let go, the pressure in her bladder suddenly releasing. A soft hissing sound filled the room as her pull-ups swelled, absorbing the accident.
Her cheeks turned bright pink, but the relief was immediate—relief not just from her bladder, but from the weight of all those grown-up expectations.
Chloe looked up at Vanessa, her lip trembling as she felt the warmth spreading through her pull-ups. "M-Mommy... me wet..." she whispered, her voice small, her thumb instinctively finding its way to her mouth.
Vanessa’s expression softened immediately, her smile returning. She knelt down beside Chloe, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Oh, baby... looks like you’re not quite ready for all those big changes just yet."
Chloe’s eyes filled with tears, her thumb still in her mouth as she sniffled softly. "No, Mommy... me not big girl..." she lisped, her voice shaky. "Can... can you put me back in diapers, pwease?"
Vanessa’s heart swelled with satisfaction, but her voice remained soft and soothing. "Of course, sweetheart," she cooed, wiping a tear from Chloe’s cheek. "Let’s get you back in your comfy diapers where you belong."
Chloe nodded, her face flushed with both relief and embarrassment, but she didn’t care anymore. She just wanted to feel small, safe, and secure again.
Vanessa helped Chloe to her feet, guiding her over to the changing table. With expert hands, she slipped off the wet pull-ups, wiping Chloe clean with gentle strokes before reaching for a thick diaper. Chloe sighed, her body relaxing completely as Vanessa slid the soft underneath her.
Vanessa taped the diaper snugly around Chloe’s waist, patting the front with a smile. “There we go, baby girl. Doesn’t that feel better?”
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jensengirl83 · 3 days
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You'll Accompany Me Chp 18
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Warnings- Some angst, fluff, mild descriptions of childbirth
Word Count- 3530
A/N- Sorry this has taken so long, but the series is finally finished! I'll be posting a chapter a week until the last one. I hope you all enjoy it!
It had been a month since Jensen had proposed to Y/N, and things were going well. She was still working on getting ready for the arrival of their baby. She was due to go to her next appointment to check on her condition later that afternoon, and Jensen had been trying to get her to reconsider not finding out the gender. 
“Seriously, honey, you don’t want to know what it is?” he asked, his tone almost begging. 
“No, Jay. I want it to be a surprise. Everything hasn’t gone so well since I found out I was pregnant, and I just want this one thing to be something to look forward to,” she chuckled. 
“How many times do I have to apologize for what I did, huh? I’ve tried to make it up to you in every way I know how. You know I’ll never forgive myself for it, so why did you have to bring it up?” he responded, his voice cracking with emotion at the end. 
“Jay…” she sighed, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away. 
She knew that she’d struck a nerve, but she also needed him to let her explain how she was feeling, and she couldn’t do that if he wouldn’t even look at her. She reached for him one more time just for him to pull away again, not even looking in her direction. Not giving him the chance to withdraw from her, she cupped his face in her hands and turned his face to look at her. 
“I want you to listen to me, okay? Yes, what happened was hard, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. The fact that I was ordered on bed rest because of a serious health condition that could hurt me and the baby was a lot to deal with. Me being so stubborn and taking so long to forgive you and cut what time we could’ve been enjoying this pregnancy together is something else I have to live with. And I kick myself in the ass for that every day, but I have forgiven you, Jay. I really have. So, please, stop beating yourself up over it, and thinking that every time I bring up what a hard time I’ve had, that it means I’m talking about that, okay?” 
She could see his eyes begin to tear up, and she felt horrible. This isn’t where she wanted the conversation to go, but now she had to try and fix it. With a sigh of regret, she pulled him to her, kissing him softly, and wrapping him in a hug. She could feel the tension all over him, so she slowly ran her hand through his hair, whispering apologies and how much she loved him over and over until she could feel him start to relax. He eventually pulled away to look at her, and it compounded her guilt. He looked heartbroken. 
“Jay, I’m so sorry. Please believe me when I tell you that I forgave you a long time ago, and nothing I said was about that,” she whispered, hugging him around his waist and resting her head on his chest.
“It’s okay, baby. I believe you. I just…” he paused, looking down at her, her eyes letting him know she was listening and wanted to hear what he had to say, “I’ve never forgiven myself for leaving you like that, and I think that stress is what may have caused your preeclampsia in the first place. And that makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.”
“Please, Jay, forgive yourself. I did a long time ago. I was just too stubborn to admit it, and I’m sorry. But, baby, that had nothing to do with what happened to me. It happens to a lot of pregnant women, and you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I love you, Jensen, and if knowing the gender will make you feel better, then that’s what we’ll do,” she smiled, squeezing his middle in a tight hug. 
“We don’t have to find out if you really don’t want to. That wouldn’t be fair,” he sighed in contentment, kissing the top of her head. He loved her hugs. 
“No, it’s okay. Maybe it would be helpful in the end. That way we could buy exactly what we need without getting everything gender neutral,” she giggled as he tickled her ribs. 
“You have any idea how much I fucking love you?” 
“Probably not as much as I love you,” she sassed back, laughing when he sighed in faux annoyance. 
“Always busting my balls, Y/L/N.” he deadpanned, trying to hide his smile. 
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
“No. No I wouldn’t, darlin’,” he replied, pulling her into his lap. She’d never know how grateful he was to have her there. To have her, period. 
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Y/N’s knee was bouncing with nerves as they sat in the doctor’s office later that afternoon. She was hoping for a good report and that she could lift some of her restrictions and be more active. Not being able to do much other than cook, light cleaning, and lying around was starting to drive her a little insane. But, something was eating at her that everything wasn’t going to be okay, and she couldn’t shake that feeling. She’d been having small Braxton Hicks contractions, but other than that, everything was progressing as it should. But something just wouldn’t let her feel like everything was fine. 
She jumped slightly as the nurse called her name to lead her back to the exam room. She didn’t think Jensen had noticed how nervous she was, but he had. As she stood, he took her hand, kissing it lightly and giving it a little squeeze to tell her without words that he was there and it would be okay. If only she could believe it. She hadn’t been in the small room long before Dr. Williams walked in with her million-watt smile she always had. It had always put Y/N at ease, but not today. 
“Good afternoon, mom and dad. How are we feeling today?” Dr. Williams asked, sitting down on the small stool and getting everything prepared for the exam. 
“I’m not going to lie. Other than the normal Braxton Hicks, nothing is going on, but I just feel like something is going to go wrong with the exam today,” Y/N answered honestly, Jensen looking over at her, one eyebrow raised in confusion and concern. She hadn’t mentioned feeling that way to him. 
“It’s fine, Y/N. A lot of mothers have that feeling at this stage of pregnancy, and especially if they have complications. Do we still not want to know the gender?” 
“No. Y/N agreed to find out this time,” Jensen replied quickly, his big smile letting Y/N know she’d made the right decision. If this made him feel just a little better about the pregnancy, then he deserved that. 
“Okay, then. How about we get the exam over first to ease mom’s worries, and then we’ll do the ultrasound. That sound good to you two?” 
“Sounds good,” Y/N and Jensen answered simultaneously, making all three of them chuckle. 
Y/N took a deep breath as the doctor started her exam. Having her cervix checked was never a fun time, and she hated it, but it had to happen. Luckily, it was usually over quickly. But she noticed that Dr. Williams was taking longer than normal this time, and her breathing started to pick up and her heart began to race. It didn’t help when she looked up and saw a concerned look on the woman’s face. Jensen had noticed, too, and before Y/N could say anything, Jensen was speaking. 
“What’s wrong, doc? Is everything okay? Is there something wrong with Y/N or the baby?” he rapidly fired the questions at the doctor, his palms beginning to sweat with nervousness. He didn’t know what he would do if something was wrong. 
“Just calm down, everyone. There’s nothing major going on,” Dr. Williams began before taking a breath to tell them what she had found, “But, Y/N is completely effaced and dilated to 5 centimeters.” 
“What the hell does that mean? She’s only thirty-five weeks along. There’s no way she can be dilated!” Jensen shouted, his fear beginning to take over and panic setting in. 
“What?! I can’t be. It’s too early! I can’t have the baby now,” Y/N cried, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.Something was wrong and she knew it, knew something was wrong with her baby. 
“Everyone calm down. This isn’t unheard of with women that have preeclampsia. Yes, it’s a little early, but the baby will probably be just fine.” 
“Probably?! I’m not fine with a probably,” Jensen was yelling now. 
“Mr. Ackles, many women have babies at this stage and most are just fine. Of course, I can’t give you an absolute guarantee, because there isn’t any when it comes to these things. But, I can tell you that I think mom and baby are going to be just fine. Now, I have to go get her a room ready for labor and delivery. A nurse will be down soon to get her moved to that floor. I know this isn’t easy, but I need you both to try and be as calm as you can. That’s what’s going to help mom and baby get through this happy and healthy,” Dr. Williams smiled, patting Jensen on the shoulder as she left the couple alone to try and come to terms with their impending situation. 
“Jay…” Y/N’s trembling voice brought Jensen out of his panic. He was by her side in an instant, running his hand over her head, and kissing her face. 
“It’s okay, honey. Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered while soothing her, hoping that he would eventually believe his own words. 
“But what if it’s not? What if the baby is too small and…” she began to cry when he interrupted her. 
“No, uh uh. You’re both going to be fine, baby. This is a great hospital, and babies are born more prematurely than ours all the time and are just fine. All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself and bringing our little peanut out to meet us. Okay? I’ve got everything else,” he reassured her, even though he felt as if he would crumble at any moment. 
She nodded her head and cried. She knew that she had a rough journey ahead of her, and she would need all the strength she had to deliver the baby. But she couldn’t stop worrying about whether he or she would be okay. And she knew she had to have Jensen make her a promise before all the craziness got started. 
“Jay, no matter what happens in there, you stay with the baby. No matter what,” she begged, knowing she couldn’t do this without that promise. 
“Y/N…” 
“No, Jay. You have to promise me. Please, I'm begging you. Take care of our baby if anything goes wrong. Please promise me Jay,” she wailed, the tears and fear of what could happen overtaking her. 
“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I promise, honey. I'll stay with the baby no matter what. But you have to make me a promise. You gotta promise me that you’ll do everything you can to be okay. We’re both going to bring this precious baby home together. You hear me?” he pleaded, his tears finally breaking free and dropping down to her forehead where he had rested his against it. 
“I promise,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his face and kiss him softly, just as the door opened and the nurse came in. 
“Ms. Y/L/N, we’re here to take you upstairs.” 
“I’ll be right behind you,” Jensen kissed her one last time as the nurse walked over to wheel her up to delivery in her bed.
“See you soon, handsome,” she smiled, squeezing his hand as they began to wheel her out of the room. 
Jensen was pacing the floor waiting for the nurse to come tell him he could be with Y/N. Once they had gotten her upstairs, they told him he needed to wait outside in the hall while they got her settled in and hooked to all the monitors, and an IV inserted. He had already made all the phone calls he needed to make. Jared and Gen were on their way, his parents were heading out as soon as they could, and Dee and the kids knew that she would be delivering soon, and wanted to wait until she was in recovery before they came to visit. All he was waiting on now was the okay to be with his future wife. It felt like an eternity before the nurse came out and took him in to see Y/N. Dr. Williams was there when he walked in. 
“Hello, Mr. Ackles. I’ll get you up to speed on what’s happening. Sorry, it took so long to bring you in, but her water broke when we moved her to her new bed. So, that means that there’s an increased risk of infection if her labor doesn’t progress in a timely manner. Which means that I put her on a Pitocin drip through her IV. Unfortunately, that means her contractions will be more intense than usual, but that also means that little Ackles will make their debut sooner.” 
“Okay, so what do I need to do?” he asked, completely at a loss about what he should be doing. 
“Same thing you did with your other three children when your wife was in labor,” the doctor said, a look of confusion on her face. 
“Well, see, that’s the problem. All three of my other kids were scheduled c-sections. I never had to go through the labor part of it,” he answered sheepishly, feeling stupid for not knowing what to expect. 
“Oh! Well, then that makes sense,” the doctor giggled, “No need to be embarrassed. Just do whatever you can to help her be comfortable, and be her support when she needs encouragement. Other than that, buckle up and enjoy the ride. This will be a completely different but amazing experience for you.” 
“O-Okay,” he stuttered, a little overwhelmed with everything going on around him.
“Jay, it’s okay. Just come sit beside me, please,” Y’N’s voice broke him out of his stupor, her tired smile and outstretched hand making his legs finally work to have a seat by her side. 
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asked, running his hand over her head. 
“Remember that scene from Alien?” she chuckled dryly. 
“The chest burster?!” he gasped at the visual image in his head. 
“Yeah, that one. Kinda like that,” she frowned as a strong contraction hit. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay,” he huffed, her hand feeling like it was going to crush his  fingers as she squeezed. 
Jensen kept repeating to her that everything was fine and that she was doing amazing, and that it would all be over soon as each contraction had her gritting her teeth and crying in pain. He hated seeing her in so much pain, and he would do it for her if he could. But since he couldn’t, he stayed by her side with words of encouragement, little kisses on her face and head, and wiping the sweat away with a cool cloth. And after what felt like an eternity, the doctor told them that it was finally time for her to push. 
The flurry of activity in the room as the doctor and nurses prepared to help bring their baby into the world had his head spinning, but he tried to keep his focus on Y/N, and do everything he could to make it as easy as he could for her. Once the doctor told him to hold Y/N’s leg up, he knew the show was starting, and he didn’t know if he wanted to jump for joy, throw up, or pass out. 
“Jay. I can’t do this,” she cried after twenty minutes of pushing, her body feeling as if it would give out at any moment. 
“Yes you can, baby. You’re doing so good. They’re almost here, and we’ll know soon whether we have a son or daughter,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her temple, “I’m so fucking proud of you, honey. You’ve got this.” 
‘Come on, Y/N. I can see the head now. Just a few more pushes,” the doctor yelled out, making Jensen look down. 
“Don’t you dare look at that! It’ll scar you forever,” Y/N screamed, groaning through another contraction. 
“Baby, nothing could ever make me think any differently of you,” he said sweetly, looking back down to where the doctor was, “Oh my God! Honey, I can see the head! It has so much hair!” 
Jensen was elated. He couldn’t have imagined that this experience would’ve been so profound. Of course, seeing his other children being brought into the world through c-section was absolutely amazing, too. But this was a completely different ballgame. 
“Okay, Y/N. One more big push and you’ll meet your baby,” the nurse beside her said, holding her leg up higher to give her more leverage to push. Jensen followed suit, and leaned back to Y/N. 
“Come on, baby. You can do it. One more and we get to see our baby,” he cooed, kissing her forehead as she gave one last push. 
The sound of a loud cry pierced the room, and Y/N and Jensen both let out cries of their own at the wonderful sound. She’d done it. She’d endured the worst pain of her life, and now, her son or daughter was there, screaming for the whole delivery floor to hear. She’d never heard such a beautiful sound in her life. She continued to cry tears of joy as Jensen kissed all over her face, his tears mixing with hers, him showering her with praise for what a great job she had done.
“Mr. Ackles, would you like to cut the cord?” Dr. Williams asked, a bright smile on her face, “You have a very healthy baby over here.” 
Y/N and Jensen began to sniffle at her words. Their baby was perfectly healthy. All the worry of them being premature and having complications melting away. Jensen walked over to cut the cord. His breath caught in his throat when he looked down, the doctor smiling at him. 
“How about you cut this cord, and then you can go tell mama what the gender is, huh?” 
Jensen just nodded. He was speechless. This experience had been one of the most nerve-wracking but beautiful he’d ever had, and he couldn’t wait to tell Y/N what the gender was. Once the cord was cut, and the baby cleaned and wrapped up, Jensen slowly walked back to his fiancee, a face-splitting smile on his face. 
“Honey, would you like to hold our son?” he asked, a tear slipping down his cheek at the way Y/N’s face lit up with his words. 
“It’s a boy?” she whispered, her voice breaking with all the emotion she was feeling. 
“It’s a healthy little boy,” he beamed with pride, gently placing their son in his mama’s arms. 
“Oh my God, Jay. He’s beautiful, and just perfect,” she said with awe, kissing the little boy’s nose, forehead, and cheeks. 
“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he hiccuped with emotion, placing kisses all over her face between every word of thanks. 
“You don’t have to thank me, Jay.” 
“Yes, I do, baby. I have to thank you for being my friend all those years, for giving me the chance to be your boyfriend, for forgiving me when I fucked up so royally, for agreeing to be my wife, and especially for giving me what I didn’t even know I needed, another baby to love. So, yes, darlin’, I’ll owe you thanks every day for the rest of my life,” he whispered, afraid all the emotions he was feeling would take his voice if he tried to speak any louder. 
“I love you so much, Jay,” she smiled through tears, reaching up to cup his face. 
“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you, baby,” he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft, quick kiss. 
Jensen leaned back to look down at Y/N and their son. The love in her eyes as she looked at their son took his breath away. How could he have been so selfish to have even thought to deny her this? She was going to be a great mother, and he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her, raising their kids, and just loving her. He knew at that moment just what a lucky son of a bitch he was, and he was going to do his damnedest to never take that for granted again.
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chubby-needy-puppy · 2 days
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I’d invite you over to hang out and greet you warmly at the door. I’d have games set up, snacks, drinks, a lot of wine… I’d pressure you to drink, very gently though. We’d watch your favourite shows and movies and I’ll keep pouring you glass after glass. Maybe I’ll convince you to smoke some weed with me too… no… I’ll give you edibles without telling you what it is. It’ll take an hour or two before it kicks in and when it does I’ll sweetly shush you and hold you. I’ll play with your hair and tell you it’s okay, that you’re safe and you’ll be okay.
“I told you it was edibles… don’t you remember?” I’ll ask you convincingly,
“You must be too high to remember… let me get you some tea.”
I’ll put away the wine, but I’ll bring you cold peach tea, spiked. You won’t even taste the alcohol since you’re too fucked up.
I’ll comfort you and cuddle you, hold you tight and make you feel safe, then I’ll turn on some porn. Puppy play porn. Anytime you try and say something I’ll “shush” you and give you a snack, hand feed you a grape or just shut you down. My hands will start trailing along your body, up under your shirt and playing with your nipples while you’re so cross faded and out of it you can’t stop me. Maybe you’ll pull at my hands, or try to push me off, I’ll just chuckle darkly in your ear,
“Good puppy! So cute!!! I love play fighting with my cute little pup!”
One of my hands will make its way in your pants, rubbing your tdick through your undergarment.
“Good puppy. Poor puppy… can barely move… I’ll make you feel like a good pup, my puppy.”
I’ll grip you until you get wet, then I’ll undress you violently, not caring if I rip or ruin them. I’ll grab some more alcohol and hold your head up by grabbing your chin and force more alcohol down your gullet. I’ll spit in your mouth afterwards so you swallow me with it. You’ll be gasping for air and I’ll push you roughly against the couch, the cold air brushing against your bare and vulnerable skin, ill shove two fingers inside your wet hole and finger fuck you as I tower over you, the other hand around your neck.
“Fucking, whore! You love this don’t you?” I’ll grunt while I assault you. As I finger you I’ll push my knee on your tdick, holding you down and grinding you against me. I’ll finger you until you feel like you need to piss, then I’ll press my knee into your bladder and make you squirt all over.
“What a dirty pup!” I’ll growl, degrading and making fun of you.
I’ll take my throbbing cock out and drag your head to it, rubbing my cock under your nose.
“Suck it.” I’ll pinch your nose until you gasp for air and shove my cock down your throat.
“Be a good puppy for daddy and maybe I won’t rape your other holes.” I lie. I force fuck your throat and pull out when I’m bored.
“You did so good puppy!” I’ll smile smd compliment you, then drag you off the couch so I can bend you over,
“But I lied about not raping you.”
I’ll slide my wet cock full of your saliva inside your puppy breeding hole, and I’ll pound my seed into it.
“Fuck pup, you’re so tight.” I’ll groan as I slide into you,
“I can’t help it. It’s your fault daddy is so hard. You look so handsome all dumb for me.”
I’ll thrust into you,
“You shouldn’t have trusted an older guy, dumb mutt. Now look at you, you’re so wet, you’re enjoying this. You enjoy being nothing but rapemeat, just another puppy to breed, you love being my toy.”
Ill fuck you hard, holding you tight so you can’t get away.
“Ahh fuck. I’m going to cum inside you now. Gonna breed this puppyhole!”
I’ll keep thrusting while I cum, pushing my cum as far into you as I can. When I’m finished, I’ll stay inside you and I’ll move us so you’re sitting on my lap, my cock still stuffed inside of you.
“You did so good pup… you’re mine now.” I’ll bite your neck hard, bruising you as I rub your tdick.
“You’re staying here puppy, I need you to cum more times on my cock.”
We’ll stay like that until I decide otherwise. <3
Gdnvgfbv yes sir- I mean please daddy- I mean uhhhh 😵‍💫😵‍💫🐶
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turcott3 · 1 day
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faith
jamie drysdale x fem!reader
warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, oral f receiving.
masterlist
-
you sighed as you slammed your computer shut, finally hitting send on your resume. the thought of the email reaching them filled you with dread.
what if they didn’t want to interview you? what if this was just another company to ghost you?
it stressed you out.
eventually, you found your way out of your bedroom, out into the living room where your boyfriend sat sprawled out on the couch.
“i did it.” you said quietly.
“you sent it?” he asks perking up.
“yeah.” you sigh, sitting down next to him, tucking yourself under his arm.
“that’s one step, see it wasn’t so hard?” he says squeezing your shoulder.
“we’ll see about that.”
“y/n, your resume looks great, i couldn’t possibly see why they wouldnt at least want you to come in to interview.” he says, a light thumb running over the fabric that covered your shoulder.
“well now i just have to wait.” you say opening up your email, pulling down refreshing it.
“okay now this is what we aren’t gonna do. i’m not gonna let you sit and drain yourself waiting for a response.” he says taking your phone and tucking it in his pocket.
“hey, give that back.” you say reaching across his lap, his hand grabbing yourself under wrist to stop you.
“i will give it back in the morning, just let me take care of you until then okay? they probably are just busy and can’t check emails. relax, my love.” he says pressing a kiss on your cheek before standing up, disappearing into your shared room, probably to hide the phone.
“i’m nervous about it jam.”
“i know you are, come here.” he says quietly as he lays down, signaling for you to curl up on his chest, one of the few places you felt like you could breathe.
“it’s all i can think about right now.”
“i know, i know.” he says, running his hands up and down your back.
you laid on his chest until you crashed late in the evening, eventually waking up to the sun peaking through the bedroom curtains, your phone laying perfectly on your nightstand just like he’d promised.
you hear your boyfriend groan next to you as you lean up on your elbow, turning to face him.
“morning baby.” he mumbles sweetly, his eyes still closed.
“good morning love bug.” you giggle, pressing a short kiss to his lips before rolling back over and getting out of bed, your phone instantly in your hand as you walked toward the bathroom.
“oh my gosh.” you gasp.
“what?” jamie calls out.
“i have an interview, like this afternoon.”
“congratulations, see i told you, everything will be fine.” he says, appearing in the door frame.
“i don’t think i tell you enough how hot you are when you wake up.” you say, your speech muffled as you brushed your teeth.
“oh whatever.” he giggles, kissing you on the head and grabbing his toothbrush.
“what do you think i should wear?” you ask, wiping your mouth.
“black pants, solid color shirt. nothing too fancy, but still nice.”
“okay.” you say, thinking to your closet.
-
you paced around your apartment as you waited to leave, your makeup nicely done and your hair slick and clean.
“baby please, calm down. you don’t leave for another 20 minutes.” jamie says walking into the living room.
“jamie what if i don’t get it?”
“well you won’t find out today.”
“fuck that makes it worse.” you say biting your nails.
“hey hey stop, will you listen to me for a second?” he asks, gripping onto your biceps.
“stop what?”
“this, all of this. this job interview does not define you. of course i have all the faith in the world that you are fully capable of getting this job, but it’s breaking my heart seeing you so torn up about it. i will love you all the same, job or not. no matter what.” he says, his thumbs grazing back and forth soothingly.
“i’m just nervous, that’s all it is jamie.”
“yes of course you are, and i get that, but i need you to be all here. i need you to just take a breath for me okay? everything is going to be fine, i will be here waiting for you when you come back.”
“okay, i’m gonna leave now so im a little early.” you say, hugging onto the boy.
“drive safe okay? i love you.”
“i will, i love you.” you call out, shutting the door behind you.
-
you arrived back home with a smile, opening the door finding jamie in his spot on the couch.
“so?” he asks, getting up to greet you at the door, wrapping you in his warm arms.
“the interview went really good.”
“i knew you would do great. i’m so proud of you pretty girl.” he mumbles into your hair, pecking you in the head a few times.
“they said i’d hear back by the end of the week.”
“so basically i’m taking your phone from you for two days, at least.” he says pulling away lightly and locking eyes with you.
“if you must.” you giggle as he presses a kiss to your lips, pulling your phone out of your back pocket.
“i’m hiding that laptop too.”
“jamie i have school work.” you giggle as he shuffles away quickly.
“you can use my laptop.” he calls out and you roll your eyes with a stuck smile.
hours had passed by and you were left alone in bed while jamie showered. you reached into his nightstand drawer pulling out your phone, opening the email app and refreshing it every few seconds before you heard the door open and a freshly showered jamie re-enters the room.
“y/n, the phone.” he says sternly.
“i’m sorry.” you sigh.
“give me that he says crawling into bed, looking over you as he took the phone from your hand.
“i can’t help it.” you reply.
“i know you can’t, but i can distract you.” he smirks, locking his lips onto yours. your hands found their way to his cheeks as he deepened the kiss, your tongues doing a tango of passion as you grew deeper and deeper in desire.
he removes a hand from your waist, slipping it into your satin shorts, running his fingers through your soaked core.
“jamie.” you whine, gripping onto his arm.
“mmm ready for me already?” he mumbles on your lips. you pull away locking eyes with him, nodding vigorously, any thought of an email instantly leaving your brain at the simple idea of your hot, hockey player boyfriend tongue deep between your legs.
he crawls to the end of the bed, his feet planted on the ground as he leaned over the bed, tugging your shorts down, leaving you exposed. he tossed them to the side, grabbing your ankles and pulling you slightly toward him. he crawled closer between your legs, kissing up your inner thigh, his hands finding their way to grip the outside of your legs. sooner than later, his lips make sweet contact with your pussy, sucking and twirling your clit with his tongue, your back arching at the sensation.
one thing about jamie, he knows how to eat, whether anyone wants to believe that or not.
“fuck.” you moan out, gripping in his dark locks as you locked eyes with him, your moans growing louder as you realize his eyes were ready to meet yours.
“taste so good baby.” he says pulling away slightly, the vibrations of his words making you groan.
“you’re so fucking good at that.” you gasp out as he continues, sliding two fingers into you, being pushed closer and closer to the edge. the build up was unbearable as he continued his actions, his fingers curling inside you causing you to crumble under his touch, an orgasm washing over you as you soaked his face in your wetness.
“oh my fucking god.” you gasp out as he pulls away, crawling over you, attaching your lips shamelessly to his.
“feeling better?” he giggles, pulling away.
“so much fucking better.” you reply in your hazy state.
“now no more worrying about a damn email y/n, everything will be fine. i’m here for you, i love you so much. don’t ever forget that okay?” he says, brushing your hair out of your face as you fixed your shorts after he’d handed them back to you.
“okay, i love you too jamie. promise i’ll be better.” you smile.
he made you realize how much he actually cared. he cared about your happiness more than his own, wanting to eliminate any possibility of stress if he could.
he loved you more than anything, job or not, and you just couldn’t believe you’d gotten so lucky to love him back.
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mercymermaid · 1 year
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omg it’s our bbg Jane
i do not like drawing her hair oh my fucking god
im gonna go back in time and nuke the cyclone before september 14th 6:17 pm simply so im not cursed with my hyperfixation on this silly musical
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those doodles kept my sanity alive so i kept them in the final obvi
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deadsetobsessions · 9 months
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He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.
“Uh.”
“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”
Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.
Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”
Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.
“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”
“Nope!”
“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”
Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.
“Deal.”
“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.
“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.
“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”
“What, you don’t have to do that.”
“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”
“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.
“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”
“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.
When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.
——
“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.
“Cass! What’s up?”
“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.
What…?
Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.
“Huh.”
“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”
“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.
“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.
“Woah!”
Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.
“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.
“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.
She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”
“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”
“Master Danny!”
Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”
Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.
But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?
Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.
Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.
——
“Cass? Why’d you call us?”
“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”
Cass paces.
“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.
“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”
“What.”
“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.
“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”
Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”
“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.
In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.
——
“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”
“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.
“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”
“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.
Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.
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vroomvro0mferrari · 16 days
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LN4 | Happy Anniversary!
Summary: When Lando forgets the date of your anniversary, you can get over it. However, the pressure of his job isn’t a good enough reason to excuse all of his forgetful tendencies and lack of attention for you.
Lando Norris x fem!Reader, established relationship
WC: 4.8K
Warnings: cursing, angsty, sad fic with happy ending
Masterlist
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The soft morning sunlight peeks through the curtains of your bedroom, casting a soft rosy glow over the room. You take a deep breath, a gentle smile settling on your face at the realisation that it’s already been a year – a year of being loved, of sharing every thought and story, of new experiences and memories... One year of being married to the love of your life. It’s hard to believe.
You turn on your side to face your husband, propping your head on your palm as you watch him sleep peacefully. Your hand is softly stroking his chest while you smile with adoration. “Good morning, baby,” you say when you notice the change in his breathing.
Lando merely grumbles, not quite awake yet. Nevertheless, he pulls you closer to his side, letting you cuddle up against his warm body. Pressing your face against his chest, you leave a few kisses along the bare skin.
Lando sighs, stretching out his body. “Good morning, darling,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You smile excitedly, sitting up to look at the handsome man you get to call your husband.
“Do you know what day it is?” You whisper.
Lando frowns as he wipes his tired eyes, “What day?” 
The confusion is evident in his voice. Regardless, you nod excitedly. Your smile falters as you watch the wheels turning in his head, gathering that he doesn’t remember. You move to the bedside table, rumbling through the drawer until you find what you’re searching for.
The expression on Lando’s face changes from confusion to guilt when you proudly show the present you’ve wrapped up so neatly, the realisation settling in. “Fuck. It’s our anniversary today, isn’t it?”
You nod, “I got you a little something, to celebrate,” you clarify. The smile on your face is gentle, comforting, and it nearly makes Lando believe you don’t care that he forgot.
“Oh, baby, I’m really sorry. I can’t believe I forgot our anniversary. God, that’s bad, isn’t it? The first year, and I’ve already screwed it up. I’m so sorry, love. Fuck.” Lando rubs a hand over his face, his expression pained.
“It’s okay, Lan. I know you’ve been busy,” you reassure him, “besides, it’s only the first year, we’ll have many more anniversaries.” You offer your gift again. “Just open the present, please? I want to know what you think of it!” You say enthusiastically.
Lando’s not fully convinced yet, “But I haven’t got anything for you,” he protests.
“Doesn’t matter, I already got this for you. Open, please!”
Lando sighs, but doesn’t resist further. However, the guilt of his forgetfulness settles deeper when he opens the carefully wrapped gift. You had taken the time and effort to make something, rather than buy a present, and he couldn’t even bother to remember your first wedding anniversary. He felt like an asshole.
At his silence, you felt the need to explain, “It’s a jar of notes,” you take the jar from his hands and open it. “It’s got different things: my favourite memories of us, things I love about you, what reminds me of you, just whatever I could think of. Then, when you’re gone for work, you can pull one out whenever you miss me,” you demonstrate, grabbing a note from the full jar, “or you could just call me, or whatever.” You put the piece of paper back, close the jar, and look up to your husband.
“Do you like it?”
Lando smiles lovingly, “I love it! Thank you, baby. I love you,” he says before kissing you softly.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t get you anything. I swear I’ll make it up to you. In fact, I’ll make a reservation for tonight right now, we can go out to dinner together to celebrate, and if you want we can go shopping today too, I’ll buy you anything you want—” 
You cut him off with a laugh. “That’s not necessary, Lan. I know you love me. Besides, I’d much prefer to spend today at home with you, while you’re still here,” you say, stroking his face fondly before you pull him in for a kiss.
Regardless of your objections, Lando still manages to make a reservation for tonight at your favourite restaurant. He doesn’t make a single comment when you order the salmon despite his dislike for fish, and for weeks after he anticipates every single need you might have before you can utter even a syllable. He brings you the snacks he knows you love most on his way home, makes homecooked meals for you (however bad at cooking he is – he switched to take away after the first two times), and watches your favourite shows with you even though he hates them. He does anything and everything he can think of to make you feel loved and appreciated.
Unfortunately, his efforts only lasted a few weeks. Now, you knew what you were getting into when you married Lando last year. You had been in a relationship with him for several years before the wedding, so you are well aware of the time he needs to put into his work, even outside of office hours, not to mention the amount of stress and anxiety that come with racing at such a high level. That’s why it doesn’t bother you that much that your husband forgot about your anniversary; you know the pressure he’s under.
However, lately, his work has become even more time-consuming, more stressful and he’s become less attentive. It’s no surprise with how well the last races have been going – Lando’s finishing on the podium every weekend – that pressures have increased. He’s no longer fighting for only the constructor’s championship, but he has an actual chance at the driver’s championship too. The team is excited, and working hard, and the same is expected of Lando. Additionally, the fans have been putting more pressure. You know how much Lando’s affected by the stress of it all; he doesn’t want to disappoint, and now that the car’s performing, the only factor that could cause a loss, is him. The pressure, stress, and anxiety are taking over his body. He’s becoming more forgetful and instead of spending his free time with you, his wife, he’s thinking about the next race’s strategy, working out to improve his performance, or practising the tracks. Formula 1 had taken over the number one spot in his life.
You get where he’s coming from, you really do, but one of the most important things, if not the most important thing, in a relationship is communication and recently, Lando wasn’t communicating with you. He doesn’t tell you about the pressure or anxiety, all you know is from reading the man. After the number of years you’d spent together, you know him well enough to be aware of his struggles without him having to tell you.
You’d address the issue, ask him to talk to you, but you don’t when. Lando’s gone so much that you barely see him. His early mornings and early nights don’t align with your schedule; Lando’s gone before you’re properly up and has already eaten when you get home from work. The both of you have always been busy before, but at least you’d always eat together, and talk about your day. Now that those moments are missing, you feel lonely.
Lando has no clue of the things running through your mind. After all, you never told him. Even during the summer break, you keep quiet about your feelings, not wanting it to affect Lando’s performance during the races when you know how hard he's working to do well. Besides, it does get better during the break; Lando’s home more often and his mind's not as occupied with thoughts about his work. Nevertheless, he’s gone most of the time. You had expected for Lando to spend his time off with you, but instead, he hangs out with his friends.
Although the break has positively affected his behaviour, Lando's forgetfulness remains the same. You had told him about your friend’s birthday party several times during the past weeks, asking him to come along. When he promised you would, you thought things were finally going back to normal. But now, as you are waiting for your husband to come home so you can leave for the party together, you realise nothing has changed.
It’s already quarter past eight. Fifteen minutes later than you had said you would leave. You are ready to go – makeup glowing, favourite dress on, present wrapped and purse checked – when you decide you won’t wait any longer. You had given Lando plenty of chances to show his care for you and to consider you in his plans. You always visited his friends with him when he wanted you to, and he couldn’t show up for one party you asked him to come to? You leave the house, no messages sent and your phone on do-not-disturb: let him worry.
You plaster a fake smile on your face when you arrive to your friend’s house, pulling her into a hug when she opens the door. 
“Hey, girl! Happy birthday!” You say in a high-pitched voice. “I can’t believe you’re finally 25!” You continue, squeezing her tight.
“Thanks, babe,” she responds when you let each other go, looking over your shoulder. “Where’s Lando? Parking the car?”
“Uh, no, actually. He couldn’t come.” The awkward smile on your face says enough, she knows not to ask any further.
“Oh, okay. That’s too bad. I would have loved to see him. You know, congratulate him on his podiums, it’s been going well lately, no?” She walks you into the house as she speaks, turning her head to watch your reaction.
“Yeah, the team’s really improved.” Once again, the tight smile on your face is clear.
A frown forms on her face at your reaction and she’s about to ask further, whether everything is okay, when she’s interrupted.
“Hey, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a while! How are you? You never come to the races anymore,” Carlos tells you with a fake pout.
You look at him in surprise. You always forget that everyone in Monaco knows each other. Carlos and your friend met at the golf club and had somehow become good friends. Usually, you liked seeing him, but tonight you would’ve preferred not to see him. Not because you don’t enjoy his company, but simply because you’d rather not talk about Lando, whom he’ll undoubtedly ask about.
And so, your mask shoots up when he pulls you into a hug. “Hey, Carlos. I’m good. How’ve you been doing?”
“I’ve been doing well. You heard the news? That I’m going to Williams next year?” You nod, saying a quick “Of course, congrats!” Naturally, you heard the news; everyone had. But this conversation was already heading in the wrong direction. “Yes, glad to have found a place that will appreciate me, even if the team’s not doing the best right now. Talking about the best, Lando’s been doing so well. You must be proud of him, hm?” 
“Ah, yes, of course,” you say indifferently.
Carlos frowns at your reaction. “Everything good between you two?”
Your smile drops, apparently, you aren’t as good at hiding your feelings as you thought you were. “Yeah, everything is fine. Why do you ask?”
Carlos shrugs, “Just the way you react, is all. You seem kind of tense…”
You sigh, letting a silence fall for a few seconds. You might as well tell him, he’ll figure it out eventually. “You’re right. Things… haven’t been so great lately.”
Carlos frowns at your comment. “Between you and Lando, you mean? He didn’t say anything was up, he seemed fine the last time I spoke to him,” he says confusedly.
You roll your eyes at the suggestion, “I’m not surprised. He seems to be clueless to what’s been going on.”
Carlos takes a sip of his drink, “Have you talked to him about it?”
“That’s the issue. Lando’s never home, we barely speak anymore. He’s been so stressed with work that nearly all his free time is dedicated to racing. He gets up early and goes to bed before I’ve even had dinner. I’ve had no chance to talk to him.”
The frown deepens, and he breathes out a puff of air. “That’s tough.”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting this on you.”
“No, it’s fine don’t worry about it. Sometimes you need to get it off your chest.”
You look up at Carlos, hesitating to continue your story.
“Has the break not changed anything?” He pokes further.
Another sigh. “No, not really. Lando’s using his time off to catch up with his friends. And his forgetfulness has clearly not improved either.” 
“His forgetfulness?”
“Yeah, he forgot about the party, clearly.” You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes again.
“What else did he forget about?” Carlos asks with a frown.
“I don’t know if I should tell you,” you hesitate, “but he forgot our anniversary. I told him it’s not a big deal, which it isn’t, but it’s just that everything is adding up. I feel kind of alone in the relationship at the moment, like he doesn’t really care about me anymore. How can I think otherwise, when we barely see each other, let alone speak?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. That really sucks.” 
You smile sadly, as if to say ‘it is what it is’.
“It’ll work out in the end,” you tell him. You hope. “Maybe tonight he’ll realise he forgot something important, again. Maybe that’ll make a difference.” You offer an awkward smile.
Carlos breathes in deeply, putting an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get your mind off it, huh?” he says while directing you towards the fridge.
You nod, follow him, and accept the drink he offers you. Tonight is not about Lando, it’s about your best friend and the fact she turned 25. You are not thinking about your husband until you get home.
– – – – – 
You slam the front door of your shared apartment louder than necessary when you enter. Nevertheless, there’s no reaction when you enter the dark apartment. You switch the lights on, noticing Lando isn’t in the living room or kitchen. Did he really go to sleep not knowing where you were or who you were with? Whether you were safe or not? Lando obviously didn’t remember the birthday party or he would’ve come, yet he didn’t text you to ask you where you were? Does he truly care so little about you? Does he even love you anymore? It feels like a punch to the gut – like someone had ripped your heart out. 
The man had been basically avoiding you for weeks, barely saying a word at the moments you did see him, but at least he was still awake to see if you arrived okay. Now he doesn't even stay up to check if you get home safely anymore? Or text you to ask where you are? To say you are upset is an understatement, you feel angry and neglected at his disregard. You feel lonely instead of beloved. The lump in your throat is a painful reminder of how close you are to crying. But you don’t. 
You swallow the lump, blink a few times to get rid of the lingering tears in your eyes and go into the bedroom to take off your makeup. You lean on the counter, sniffling silently, and close your eyes. You breathe in through your nose deeply, before breathing out through your mouth. It’ll be okay. Right? 
When you enter the bedroom you stare for a minute at the man sleeping peacefully before you. It feels wrong when you climb into bed next to him, nevertheless, you do it. It’ll probably take you a while to fall asleep tonight. 
– – – – –
The situation hasn’t changed a bit when the racing season starts back up again. No matter how strained your relationship has become, you do want to say goodbye to Lando before he leaves for the next race. So, the morning he’s supposed to fly, you make sure to get up extra early. You don’t know how, but he still somehow manages to finish his breakfast before you’re even out of bed, the container already in the trash.
“Good morning,” you mumble, wiping your eyes as they adjust to the bright light in the kitchen.
Lando looks up from his phone in surprise, clearly not expecting to see you awake this early. “Hey, what are you doing up?” He asks in a soft voice.
“Wanted to say goodbye,” you say as you walk closer to the kitchen island at which he’s sitting.
“There’s no need for that, Y/N. I’ll see you again soon enough.” The smile on his face is sickeningly sweet, a clear contrast to the words coming out of his mouth.
You frown, “You’re leaving for a week… What do you mean, there’s no need?”
Lando sighs at your question, “Never mind, it’s kind of you to get up extra early just for me,” he smiles dismissively before getting up from his seat. “It’s time for me to go,” he says looking at his watch before grabbing his backpack and suitcase which are sitting by the door, “I’ll see you in a week.”
You’re left staring in surprise as the door slams closed. He didn’t kiss you goodbye. He always did that, even during the worst of fights. That’s your rule. Formula 1 is a dangerous sport, he could be hurt in a split second, never mind being killed. From the start of your relationship, he always kissed you before he left, just in case. You hated the thought at the start, but learned to think it was sweet; that, in case something happened, at least he kissed his girl goodbye.
You’re watching your marriage crumble before your eyes, and Lando doesn’t seem to have a clue, or pretends not to notice. This is it, you decide. This cannot go any further. As soon as he gets home, you will talk to Lando, no matter how badly it will affect his race. You can’t do this any longer.
However, somebody else is already one step ahead of you. Carlos had noticed the toll your strained marriage with Lando was taking on you, and couldn’t help confronting Lando the first second he saw him. It didn’t help either that Charles was way too curious about the relationship drama. He had been pushing Carlos to find out more to save his gossip-desperate soul after the radio silence during the break.
“Hey, Lando!” Carlos yells, jogging up to Lando and matching his pace.
“Hey, man! How are you doing? Had a nice break?” Lando asks, giving Carlos a quick hug.
“Yeah, yeah, I had fun. What about you?”
“Ah, yes. Of course. It was good to get some time off. I really needed it; finally got to see my friends again,” Lando grins while Carlos raises an eyebrow at the answer.
“What about your wife? Finally got to spend some time with her now that you didn’t have to travel so much?” Carlos asks.
Lando laughs awkwardly at his suggestive question, “You know it!”
Carlos ignores the casual response. “I actually saw Y/N last week, at a friend’s birthday party. Was surprised to see you didn’t come with her…”
A frown etches onto Lando’s face. “What birthday party?”
“I think she’s one of Y/N’s best friends, she turned 25?”
Lando’s eyes widen in realisation. “Fuck, yes, I remember now.”
“She told you about it?” Carlos asks, watching as Lando’s expression shifts from realisation to discomfort.
“Yeah… She mentioned it a couple of times,” he admits. “She didn’t tell me that she went...” 
Carlos lets him ponder it for a moment before adding, “Well, she was there. We talked for a bit, actually.”
Lando feels his stomach tighten. He tilts his head slightly. “What did she say?”
Carlos hesitates, glancing around the paddock while he weighs his options. “Uhm, she said you’ve been distant lately. That you haven’t been paying much attention to her, that you missed your anniversary…”
Lando stops walking. “She told you about that?”
“Yeah, man.” Carlos sighs. “Look, she didn’t go into too much detail, but… she sounded upset. Maybe you should make some time for her, take her out on a date or something. It seems like she feels pretty lonely.” 
Lando shifts uncomfortably, his heart sinks in his chest. “Lonely?” The word echoes in his mind, unsettling him. He knows the feeling all too well. He’s the reason his wife has been feeling lonely? The guilt settles deep within his soul as he mulls it over. He tries to laugh it off, but it feels hollow. “She knows how demanding the season has been. I’ve been swamped.”
“I’m sure she does, but… it’s more than that. She told me she feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.” The look on his face is serious as he says it.
Lando blinks, the weight of Carlos’ words sinking in. How could he have missed something so crucial? Why hadn’t Y/N said anything? More importantly, why hadn’t he noticed?”
“She thinks I don’t care about her?” He mutters to himself. His gaze is unfocused as he chews his lip, running a hand over his face out of frustration. “Why didn’t she tell me?” He says quietly.
“There was no opportunity to tell you, she said. You're never home.”
Carlos lets out another sigh. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, but I don’t want your marriage to be ruined. I know you love Y/N to pieces. I would be upset with myself if you guys don’t make it out together knowing I could have done something about it. That being said, I think you should talk to her.”
Lando nods absentmindedly. He didn't even consider that they might not make it out okay. “You’re right. Thanks for telling me, man.” 
As Carlos walks away, Lando is left standing there, his mind working overtime. He had been busy, yes, but surely you understood that, right? He’d been working so hard for the both of you, to secure a future for you. But… had he been neglecting you without even realising it?
The conversation with Carlos continues to replay in his head throughout the day. Maybe he hadn’t been as attentive as he thought. Maybe all those nights out with friends, all those early mornings spent focused on racing had a bigger effect than he assumed. He tries to push the thoughts away, to justify it with the pressure of the season, but it doesn’t sit right anymore.
The rest of the weekend Carlos’ words echo through his head, ‘She feels like you don’t really care about her anymore.’ Lando can barely concentrate with the guilt that’s gnawing at his conscious. 
– – – – – 
By the time Lando leaves his hotel, he has formed a plan. He has rehearsed a dozen different apologies in his head. He’ll explain what happened, that he’s been so busy with work that he didn’t notice, and he’ll say sorry and change his behaviour. And after that, all will be well.
His plan is thrown out the window as soon as he gets home and sees his wife sitting on the couch, your face pale and tired as you watch TV. The state of you makes the practised words dry on his tongue. How could he not have noticed what was happening? 
“Why didn’t you tell me you felt lonely?” 
You look up in surprise at the abrupt question cutting through the silence. No ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’, no ‘I missed you, baby’, just the sharp edge of confrontation.
“What?”
“Carlos told me you’ve been feeling lonely. Why didn’t you tell me?”
You frown at his directness, “When was I supposed to do that, Lando? You’re always gone.”
“That’s not true—” he tries to protest, but you cut him off.
“There was not one moment I could have told you, Lando! You’re always busy with work and when you’re not, your friends take up all your free time! You haven’t made any time for me in weeks, months even!” You yell.
Tears well up in your eyes at the confrontation. You had kept your frustrations to yourself for weeks and now that he finds out about your feelings he decides to yell at you for it. How else are you expected to react?
Your words hit Lando hard, each one landing like a punch. His eyes flicker with guilt. “I’ve been under so much pressure. The team needs me—this season could be my best chance at a championship, and I—”
You cut him off, your voice soft. “I know, Lando. I know how important your career is and that this is your chance, but that doesn’t mean all your time should be spent on racing. You’ve no time left for me anymore; all your energy is drained when I finally see you at the end of the day.”
“I can’t help that my job is demanding! You know that, Y/N. You’ve always known that. It takes a lot of time to improve, and the team is finally performing. It’s my chance at a championship! I can’t pass that up!”
“I get that Lando, I really do. But I’ve felt alone in this relationship for months now. I never see you, we never talk… The night of the party you didn’t even text me to ask where I was, or who I was with. You were already sleeping before I got home! Weren’t you worried at all? Or even curious to know where I was, whether I was safe? Sometimes… Sometimes, I doubt whether you still care about me – whether you still love me, because it feels like you don’t.” The tears slowly fall down your face while you say it.
That’s when it hits him – truly hits him. Lando swears he could hear his heart break. He looks at you in shock, and you can’t deny you feel a little better because of it. Had he really fucked up that bad? Do you really believe he no longer loves you, or cares about you? You are the most important person in his life. How could this have gone so far without him noticing? How could he have made the love of his life feel like she wasn’t loved? He runs a hand through his hair in distress, trying to wrap his head around your admission.
“I’ve been patient, Lando. I’ve been understanding, but you’re just never present. Not just physically, but mentally, too. I miss you.”
Lando looks at you sadly from across the room, disappointed in himself. He quickly closes the distance, reaching for your hand. His voice is soft when he speaks to you. “I do. I do love you, Y/N,” he says, caressing your face softly, pulling your chin up so your eyes meet, his teary eyes staring into your red ones. “You’re the love of my life. I care about you so much. You’re the most important to me, above anything else, and you always will be. Don’t forget that, okay? Promise me you’ll never forget that, baby.”
You sniffle, wiping away the tears that are slowly making their way down to your chin, while you nod. The sound physically pains him, his heart twisting torturously in his chest. He vows to never make you cry again.
“I’m so sorry I let it come this far, darling. I’ve been so wrapped up in everything, trying to win, trying to be perfect for the team that I didn’t see what I was losing in the process.” 
You interrupt him, “I don’t need perfect, Lando. I just need you to be here. With me. Because if it keeps going like this… I don’t know how much longer I can take it.”
Her words hang between them, and for the first time in weeks, Lando realises the gravity of what he stands to lose if he doesn’t make a change soon. He nods frantically. “Of course, baby. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. You say the word, and I’ll do it. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t love you, because I do. So much. I can’t lose you, I don’t ever want to come this close to losing you ever again.”
He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you like he’s afraid to let go; like you’ll walk away from him as soon as he does. You press your face into his chest, missing the feeling of him against you and his comforting scent. The last time he touched you, let alone hugged you feels like ages ago. 
“I’ll be better, I’ll make time for you, I promise,” he mumbles, his mouth grazing over your hair, as he tugs you impossibly closer into his tight embrace.
You smile faintly through your tears. “I believe you.”
1K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 27 days
Text
Until Next Time
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)
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Mycenae, 1208 BC
The sun beats down mercilessly on the marble steps of the temple. You stand at the top, your white chiton billowing in the warm breeze. Your eyes scan the crowd gathered below, searching for one face among the sea of onlookers.
“Where is he?” You whisper, your heart pounding.
A firm hand grips your shoulder. “It’s time, princess,” your father’s voice rumbles behind you.
You turn to face him, eyes pleading. “Father, please. This can’t be the only way.”
The king’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes betray a flicker of sorrow. “The gods have spoken. We must obey.”
As he speaks, a commotion erupts at the base of the temple steps. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot Max pushing through the crowd, his face contorted with desperation.
“No!” He shouts, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. “You can’t do this!”
Two guards grab him, restraining his arms as he struggles against their grip.
“Let me go!” Max yells, his eyes locking with yours. “She’s innocent! Take me instead!”
You start to move towards him, but your father’s grip tightens. “Don’t,” he warns.
“Max,” you call out, your voice breaking. “It’s okay. This is my duty.”
Max shakes his head violently. “No, it’s not! This is madness!”
The high priest approaches, his ornate robes rustling as he walks. “The sacrifice must be made,” he intones. “The gods demand it.”
You feel a chill run down your spine despite the heat. The priest’s eyes are cold as he regards you.
“Please,” Max begs, still struggling against the guards. “There has to be another way. Let me speak to the oracle. Maybe-”
“Silence!” The priest snaps. “The decision has been made. The princess will ensure a bountiful harvest for our people.”
You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Max, listen to me. I need you to be strong.”
His struggles subside slightly as he focuses on your words.
“Remember what we talked about?” You continue. “About the stars?”
Max’s brow furrows in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen in recognition. “The cycle,” he breathes.
You nod, forcing a smile. “This isn’t the end. We’ll find each other again. I promise.”
“No,” Max shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”
The priest clears his throat impatiently. “We must proceed.”
Your father gently guides you towards the altar. You resist the urge to look back at Max, knowing it will only make this harder.
“Wait!” Max calls out. “Just ... just let me say goodbye. Please.”
The king hesitates, then nods to the guards. They release Max, who rushes up the steps towards you.
He reaches you, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispers fiercely. “In this life and every life to come.”
You lean into his touch, memorizing the feeling of his skin against yours. “I love you too. Always.”
Max’s lips crash into yours, desperate and salty with tears. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.
Then rough hands are pulling you apart. Max struggles, but the guards drag him back down the steps.
“No!” He roars. “You can’t do this! She’s everything to me!”
You force yourself to look away, focusing on the altar before you. The priest approaches, a gleaming dagger in his hand.
“Oh great gods,” he begins to chant. “Accept this offering and bless our lands.”
You close your eyes, trying to block out Max’s anguished cries. You think of stars, of cycles, of promises of reunion.
The dagger plunges, and pain explodes through your body. As darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, you hear Max’s voice, raw with grief.
“I’ll find you,” he vows. “In the next life, and the next, and the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”
As your consciousness fades, you cling to that promise. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It’s just the beginning of a much longer story.
Your last thought before the world goes black is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and determination. Somehow, you know that this is not goodbye — it’s just until next time.
London, 1542
The heavy oak door of your chambers creaks open, and you look up from your embroidery, heart leaping at the sight of Max slipping inside. His eyes dart nervously around the room before settling on you.
“My lady,” he whispers urgently, crossing the room in quick strides. “We must speak.”
You set aside your needlework, rising to meet him. “What is it? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
He takes your hands in his, his touch sending a familiar thrill through you despite the gravity in his expression. “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. I’ve heard whispers in the court ...”
Your breath catches. “What kind of whispers?”
Max’s jaw clenches. “Accusations. Terrible ones. They’re saying you’ve been unfaithful to the king.”
You gasp, shaking your head vehemently. “That’s absurd! I would never-”
“I know,” Max interrupts, squeezing your hands. “But the truth matters little when it comes to Henry’s jealousy. You know how he is.”
A chill runs down your spine as you remember the fate of the king’s previous wives. “What am I to do?”
Max’s eyes blaze with determination. “We’ll run away. Tonight. I have friends who can help us reach the coast. From there, we can sail to France or-”
The sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor cuts him off. You both freeze, staring at the door in mounting dread.
“Quick,” you hiss, pushing Max towards a tapestry-covered alcove. “Hide!”
He resists for a moment. “I won’t leave you-”
“You must,” you insist. “If they find you here, it will only make things worse.”
Reluctantly, Max ducks behind the tapestry just as the door bursts open. The king’s guards pour in, led by Thomas Cromwell himself.
“My lady,” Cromwell says with a cold smile. “I’m afraid you must come with us.”
You lift your chin, summoning every ounce of royal dignity. “On what grounds, Lord Cromwell?”
His smile doesn’t waver. “Treason, my lady. His Majesty has evidence of your ... indiscretions.”
“That’s impossible,” you protest. “I’ve been nothing but faithful to the king.”
Cromwell gestures to the guards. “Search the room. Thoroughly.”
Your heart pounds as they begin tearing through your belongings. You silently pray that Max remains hidden and undetected.
“This is outrageous,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I demand to speak to the king himself.”
“His Majesty has no desire to see you,” Cromwell replies. “The evidence speaks for itself.”
One of the guards approaches, holding a folded piece of parchment. “My lord, we found this hidden in her jewelry box.”
Cromwell snatches it, his eyes scanning the contents. His smirk widens. “Well, well. A love letter, it seems. Quite damning, wouldn’t you agree?”
You shake your head in disbelief. “That’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before!”
“A poor defense, my lady,” Cromwell tuts. “Come now, we mustn’t keep the Tower waiting.”
As the guards move to seize you, Max bursts from his hiding place. “Stop!” He shouts. “She’s innocent!”
Cromwell’s eyebrows raise in mock surprise. “And who might you be, young man?”
Max stands tall, his gaze unwavering. “I can vouch for the queen’s innocence.”
“Can you now?” Cromwell’s tone is dangerously soft. “And how, pray tell, would you know such a thing?”
You see the trap too late. “Max, don’t-”
But he’s already speaking. “Because I’ve been watching over her. Protecting her. I would know if she had been unfaithful.”
Cromwell’s eyes glitter with triumph. “Watching over her, you say? How ... intimate. Guards, seize him as well.”
“No!” You cry out as the guards grab Max. “He’s done nothing wrong!”
“On the contrary,” Cromwell replies. “He’s just confessed to an inappropriate relationship with the queen. That’s treason, my dear.”
Max struggles against the guards. “It’s not like that! I love her, yes, but we’ve never-”
“Enough!” Cromwell snaps. “Take them both to the Tower. His Majesty will decide their fate.”
As the guards drag you from the room, your eyes meet Max’s. In that moment, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve been here before, somehow. Torn apart by forces beyond your control.
“It’s happening again,” Max says softly, his eyes wide with realization.
You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “The cycle continues.”
“What are you two babbling about?” Cromwell demands.
Neither of you answer. What could you say that he would understand?
As you’re led through the winding corridors of the palace, Max’s voice carries to you. “I’ll find a way to save you. I swear it.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you call back, your voice catching.
“I kept the last one, didn’t I?” He replies. “I found you again.”
Memories flood your mind — hazy images of another life, another time. A temple, a sacrifice, a vow made in desperation.
“So you did,” you whisper.
The journey to the Tower passes in a blur. Before you know it, you’re being locked in a cold, damp cell. Through the small barred window, you can see the executioner’s block in the courtyard below.
Days pass. You pace your cell, alternating between fear and a strange sense of calm. This isn’t the end, you remind yourself. Somehow, you know it to be true.
When they come for you, you hold your head high. As you’re led to the block, you scan the crowd, searching for Max’s face. You spot him, restrained by guards, his face a mask of anguish.
“I love you,” he mouths.
“Until next time,” you reply silently.
As you kneel at the block, you close your eyes. You think of stars and cycles, of promises kept across lifetimes. The axe falls, and darkness descends.
Your last conscious thought is a mixture of sorrow and hope. This chapter may be ending, but your story with Max is far from over. In another time, another place, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, and the cycle continues.
Florence, 1633
The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across the cluttered study. You pace nervously, your skirts swishing against the worn floorboards. Max hunches over his desk, quill scratching furiously across parchment.
“Max,” you plead, “please reconsider. It’s not too late to recant.”
He looks up, his eyes bright with fervor. “I can’t, my love. The truth is too important.”
You move to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. “More important than your life?”
Max covers your hand with his, his touch warm and familiar. “Some truths are worth dying for.”
“And what about living for?” You counter. “What about us?”
He stands, pulling you into an embrace. “Everything I do, I do for us. For a world where we can live freely, without the shackles of ignorance.”
You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent of ink and parchment. “I fear those shackles are stronger than you think.”
A sharp knock at the door makes you both jump. Max moves to answer it, but you grab his arm.
“Don’t,” you whisper. “It could be them.”
Max’s jaw sets stubbornly. “If it is, hiding won’t change anything.”
He strides to the door and throws it open. A young man stands there, panting heavily.
“Master,” he gasps. “They’re coming. The Inquisition. You must flee!”
Max’s face pales, but his voice remains steady. “Thank you for the warning, Giovanni. You should go before they arrive.”
The young man nods and disappears into the night. Max turns to you, his expression grim.
“You should go too,” he says softly. “There’s no reason for both of us to face their wrath.”
You shake your head fiercely. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Please,” Max implores. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”
“And I couldn’t bear to abandon you,” you retort. “We’re in this together, remember?”
A ghost of a smile touches Max’s lips. “Always.”
You help him gather his most important papers and instruments, working quickly in the oppressive silence. As Max secures the last of his writings, you hear the ominous sound of marching feet approaching.
“It’s too late,” you breathe.
Max squares his shoulders. “Then we face them with dignity.”
The door bursts open, and armored men pour into the small study. At their head is Cardinal Bellarmine, his face a mask of righteous anger.
“Apostate,” he intones. “You stand accused of heresy against the Holy Church.”
Max steps forward, his voice calm. “I stand accused of seeking the truth, Your Eminence.”
The Cardinal’s eyes narrow. “You spread dangerous lies. You claim the Earth is not the center of God’s creation!”
“I claim only what the evidence suggests,” Max counters. “The movements of the heavens themselves tell us-”
“Blasphemy!” Bellarmine roars. “You would elevate your flawed observations above the word of God?”
You can’t stay silent any longer. “My lord Cardinal, surely God gave us minds to seek understanding. How can the pursuit of knowledge be heresy?”
Bellarmine’s gaze snaps to you. “And who is this who dares to question the Church’s judgment?”
Max steps protectively in front of you. “Leave her out of this. She’s done nothing wrong.”
“She defends a heretic,” the Cardinal sneers. “That alone is cause for suspicion.”
You feel a chill run down your spine, but you stand your ground. “I defend a good man who seeks only to understand the wonders of God’s creation.”
Bellarmine waves dismissively. “Take them both. We’ll sort out her involvement later.”
As the guards move to seize you, Max erupts into action. He grabs a heavy tome from his desk and hurls it at the nearest guard, then pushes you towards the window.
“Run!” He shouts. “I’ll hold them off!”
You hesitate, torn between fleeing and staying by his side. In that moment of indecision, a guard grabs you roughly by the arm.
“No!” Max cries out, lunging towards you.
Another guard intercepts him, slamming the butt of his halberd into Max’s stomach. He crumples to the ground, gasping for air.
“Stop!” You plead. “We’ll come peacefully. Just don’t hurt him.”
Bellarmine smirks. “A wise decision. Though I’m afraid it’s too late for leniency.”
As the guards bind your hands, you lock eyes with Max. There’s a strange, sad recognition in his gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought this time would be different.”
You shake your head, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “It’s not your fault. It never is.”
Bellarmine looks between you, confusion evident on his face. “What nonsense is this?”
Neither of you answer.
You’re led from the study, through the torch-lit streets to the forbidding walls of the Inquisition’s headquarters. As you’re separated and thrown into different cells, Max’s voice carries to you.
“I’ll find you again. I swear it.”
“In this life or the next,” you call back, your voice breaking.
Days blur together in your dank cell. You’re questioned relentlessly about Max’s work, about your involvement. You reveal nothing, clinging to the hope that your silence might somehow spare him.
When they finally come for you, you know it’s not good news. You’re led to a small courtyard where a pyre has been erected. Your heart sinks as you see Max already tied to the stake, his face bruised but defiant.
“Heathen,” Bellarmine proclaims, “you have been found guilty of heresy. Do you repent your sins?”
Max’s eyes find yours in the crowd. “My only sin,” he says clearly, “is loving truth more than dogma.”
The Cardinal’s face darkens. “Then may God have mercy on your soul. Light the pyre.”
As the flames begin to lick at Max’s feet, you can’t contain yourself any longer. You break free from your guards and run towards the pyre.
“No!” You scream. “Max!”
He looks at you, his eyes full of love and sorrow. “Until next time, my love. We’ll get it right someday.”
The guards grab you, dragging you back as the flames engulf Max. His agonized cries pierce the air, but his gaze never leaves yours.
As the light fades from his eyes, you feel a piece of your soul shatter. But deep within, a tiny spark of hope remains. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It can’t be.
Somewhere, somewhen, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and your love endures beyond death itself.
Atlantic Ocean, 1912
The grand ballroom of the Titanic thrums with life, an orchestra playing a lively waltz as couples twirl across the polished floor. You stand at the edge of the crowd, your gloved hands fidgeting with your beaded gown. Your eyes scan the room, searching for one face in particular.
“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice asks behind you.
You turn, a smile lighting up your face as you see Max, dashing in his tailored suit. “There you are! I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”
Max grins, offering you his arm. “Even on a ship this size? Never. Though I must admit, I did take a wrong turn or two.”
You laugh, taking his arm. “Well, I’m glad you found your way eventually. I’ve been dying to dance with you all evening.”
As Max leads you onto the dance floor, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve danced with him before, you think. In grand halls and humble taverns, across centuries ...
“What’s that look for?” Max asks, pulling you from your reverie as he places a hand on your waist.
You shake your head, smiling. “Nothing. Just ... happy, I suppose.”
He beams at you as you begin to waltz. “As am I. Being here with you, it feels ... right. Like everything’s fallen into place.”
You nod, leaning into him slightly. “I know exactly what you mean.”
As you dance, the world seems to fade away. It’s just you and Max, moving in perfect synchronicity. But the spell is broken as a violent shudder runs through the ship.
Max steadies you as you stumble. “What was that?”
Around you, other passengers are looking around in confusion. The music has stopped, the musicians exchanging worried glances.
“I’m not sure,” you reply, a sense of unease growing in your stomach. “Perhaps we should-”
Your words are cut off as a ship’s officer bursts into the ballroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. We’ve struck an iceberg, but there’s no immediate danger. As a precaution, we ask that you all put on life vests and make your way to the boat deck.”
A ripple of nervous chatter sweeps through the crowd. Max’s grip on your hand tightens.
“We should go,” he says urgently. “Now.”
You nod, allowing him to lead you through the increasingly panicked throng. As you make your way through the corridors, the ship’s list becomes more pronounced.
“This is bad,” Max mutters, helping you navigate a particularly steep section. “Much worse than they’re letting on.”
You reach your cabin, quickly donning life vests over your evening wear. As you step back into the corridor, you’re met with a tide of frightened passengers.
“We need to get to the boat deck,” Max says, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me.”
You push through the crowd, the ship’s groans and creaks growing louder with each passing moment. When you finally reach the deck, chaos greets you. Officers are struggling to maintain order as passengers clamor for spots in the too-few lifeboats.
“Women and children first!” An officer shouts over the din.
Max turns to you, his face pale but determined. “You need to get on a boat.”
You shake your head vehemently. “Not without you.”
“Please,” he begs, cupping your face in his hands. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
A memory flashes through your mind — Max saying those same words in another time, another place. Always trying to save you.
“And I couldn’t bear to leave you,” you insist. “We stay together. No matter what.”
Max’s eyes search yours for a long moment before he nods. “Together, then.”
As the night wears on, it becomes clear that there won’t be enough lifeboats for everyone. You and Max help where you can, assisting women and children into the boats. The temperature drops, your breath visible in the frigid air.
“I think that’s the last one,” Max says as you watch the final lifeboat disappear into the darkness.
You look around the rapidly tilting deck. Those who remain are a mix of resigned, terrified, and in denial.
“What do we do now?” You ask, your voice small.
Max takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “We face it together. Like we always have.”
As the ship’s stern begins to rise, you and Max make your way towards the railing. The screech of twisting metal fills the air as the Titanic starts to break apart.
“Max,” you say, your voice trembling, “I’m scared.”
He pulls you close, his arms strong around you. “I know. But remember, this isn’t the end. Not really.”
You look up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you feel it?” He asks. “The familiarity? Like we’ve been here before?”
As you stare into his eyes, flashes of memory assault you. A temple in ancient Greece. A Tudor court. A Renaissance study. Always you and Max. Always torn apart.
“The cycle,” you whisper.
Max nods, a sad smile on his face. “We’ll get it right someday. I promise.”
The ship lurches violently, and you cling to each other as you’re thrown into the icy Atlantic. The shock of the cold water drives the breath from your lungs.
“Max!” You gasp, struggling to keep your head above water.
“I’m here,” he calls back, swimming towards you. “Hold on to me.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, your limbs already growing numb from the cold. Around you, the cries of other passengers pierce the night.
“It’s so cold,” you murmur, your teeth chattering.
Max holds you tighter. “I know, love. Just stay with me.”
As the minutes tick by, the cries around you grow fewer. You can feel your strength ebbing, your grip on Max weakening.
“Hey,” Max says, his voice hoarse. “Stay awake. Look at the stars with me.”
You force your eyes open, gazing up at the crystal-clear sky. “They’re beautiful,” you manage.
“Just like you,” Max replies. “In every life, in every time.”
You smile weakly. “You always were a charmer.”
“And you always saw right through me,” he chuckles, the sound turning into a cough.
As your vision begins to dim, you summon the last of your strength to speak. “Max? Promise you’ll find me again?”
His lips, blue with cold, press against your forehead. “Always. In this life and the next, and all the ones after.”
The cold fades, replaced by a spreading warmth. As consciousness slips away, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the promise of reunion.
The wheel turns. The cycle continues. And somewhere, in another time, another place, two souls prepare to find each other once more.
Washington DC, 1968
The air is thick with tension and the acrid smell of tear gas. You stand at the front of the crowd, your hand tightly gripping a homemade sign that reads “MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.” The chants of the protesters around you swell and ebb like waves crashing against the shore of the Lincoln Memorial.
“Hey,” a familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Max pushing his way through the crowd, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
You smile, relief washing over you. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it.”
Max reaches you, his hand finding yours. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Though the police barricades nearly did.”
You squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. This feels ... important. Like we’re on the brink of something.”
He nods, his eyes scanning the growing crowd. “I know what you mean. It’s like the whole world is holding its breath.”
As if on cue, a new chant starts up. “Hey, hey, LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?”
You join in, your voice blending with the thousands around you. Max’s deeper tone resonates beside you, sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the autumn chill.
Suddenly, there’s a commotion at the edge of the crowd. You stand on tiptoe, trying to see what’s happening.
“What is it?” Max asks, concern etching his features.
“I’m not sure,” you reply. “It looks like ... oh no.”
A line of police officers in riot gear is advancing on the crowd, batons at the ready.
Max’s grip on your hand tightens. “We should fall back. This could get ugly.”
But you stand your ground, shaking your head. “No. We can’t let them intimidate us. We have a right to be here, to make our voices heard.”
“I know,” Max says, his voice tight with worry. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
As the police line gets closer, tensions in the crowd rise. Someone throws a bottle, and it shatters at the feet of an officer. In an instant, chaos erupts.
“Disperse immediately!” A voice booms over a megaphone. “This is an unlawful assembly!”
But the crowd doesn’t disperse. If anything, the chants grow louder, more defiant. You feel Max tugging at your arm.
“Come on,” he urges. “We’ve made our point. Let’s go before-”
His words are cut off by a loud bang. For a moment, you think it’s a firecracker. Then you see the tear gas canister arcing through the air.
“Gas!” Someone shouts, and panic ripples through the crowd.
Max pulls you close, covering your mouth and nose with his bandana. “We need to move, now!”
You nod, coughing as the acrid gas begins to sting your eyes. Together, you push through the panicked crowd, trying to reach the edge of the park.
But the police are closing in from all sides. You see batons swinging, hear the cries of pain and anger from your fellow protesters.
“This way,” Max says, pulling you towards a gap in the police line.
You’re almost there when you hear a scream behind you. Turning, you see a young woman on the ground, an officer standing over her with his baton raised.
Before you can think, you’re moving towards them. “Stop!” You yell. “Leave her alone!”
“Y/N, no!” Max calls after you, but you’re already out of his reach.
You throw yourself between the fallen woman and the officer, your arms outstretched. “Please,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “She’s not a threat. We’re peaceful protesters.”
The officer hesitates, his baton still raised. For a moment, you think he might listen. Then you see his eyes harden behind his visor.
“I said disperse!” He shouts, bringing the baton down.
You close your eyes, bracing for the impact. But it never comes. Instead, you hear a grunt of pain and open your eyes to see Max in front of you, taking the blow meant for you.
“Max!” You cry out as he crumples to the ground.
You drop to your knees beside him, cradling his head. “Max, can you hear me?”
He groans, his eyes fluttering open. “Are you okay?” He asks, his voice weak.
You nod, tears streaming down your face. “I’m fine. Why did you do that?”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”
Despite everything, you can’t help but laugh. “You idiot,” you say fondly.
The moment is shattered by another round of tear gas canisters landing nearby. The acrid smoke billows around you, making it hard to breathe.
“We need to get out of here,” you say, trying to help Max to his feet.
But as you stand, you feel a sharp pain in your side. Looking down, you see a growing red stain on your shirt.
“Y/N?” Max’s voice sounds far away. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”
You stumble, your legs giving out. Max catches you, lowering you gently to the ground.
“Oh God,” he says, his face pale with shock. “You’ve been hit.”
You look down again, seeing the bullet embedded in your side. The pain is distant, almost unreal.
“It’s not so bad,” you try to reassure him, but your voice comes out weak and shaky.
Max presses his hand to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “Help!” He shouts. “We need a medic!”
But his cries are lost in the chaos around you. The world seems to be fading, growing dim at the edges.
“Max,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head fiercely. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’re going to be fine, you hear me? We’re going to get through this.”
You smile sadly, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over you. “We always say that, don’t we?”
Max’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Every time,” you murmur, your strength fading. “We always think this time will be different.”
Understanding dawns in Max’s eyes, along with a deep, aching sorrow. “The cycle,” he whispers.
You nod weakly. “But it’s okay. We’ll get another chance.”
“No,” Max says, his voice breaking. “Not again. Please, Y/N, stay with me.”
But you can feel yourself slipping away. The pain is gone now, replaced by a spreading warmth.
“Find me again,” you breathe, your eyes starting to close. “Promise me.”
Max’s tears fall on your face as he leans close. “I promise. In this life or the next, I’ll always find you.”
As consciousness fades, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the weight of lifetimes. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and somewhere, two souls prepare for yet another chance at forever.
Monaco, 2024
The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. You’re curled up against Max, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The steady rhythm of his breathing is a comforting constant, one you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.
A gentle weight lands on the bed, followed by a soft meow. You open your eyes to see Jimmy padding across the duvet.
“Morning, Jimmy,” you whisper, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. He purrs contentedly, settling down in the small space between you and Max.
The movement stirs Max from his slumber. He blinks sleepily, a smile spreading across his face as he focuses on you. “Good morning, schatje,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.
You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Morning, champ. Sleep well?”
He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do with you by my side.”
As if on cue, another weight lands on the bed. Sassy makes her presence known with a demanding meow.
Max chuckles, reaching over to pet her. “Good morning to you too, princess.”
You can’t help but laugh. “I think someone’s jealous of all the attention Jimmy’s getting.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” Max says, scooping Sassy up and placing her on his chest. She immediately starts kneading, purring loudly.
You watch them with a fond smile, a wave of contentment washing over you. “I love this,” you say softly. “Just ... all of this.”
Max turns his head to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Me too. Sometimes I can hardly believe it’s real, you know?”
You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s like ... we’ve been waiting for this for so long.”
“Lifetimes,” Max agrees, a hint of something ancient in his gaze.
You both fall silent for a moment, lost in memories that feel more like dreams — flashes of other lives, other times, always reaching for each other but never quite able to hold on.
Jimmy stretches, breaking the spell. You laugh as he nearly pushes Sassy off Max’s chest in the process.
“Alright, you two,” Max says, gently moving the cats aside. “I think it’s time for breakfast.”
As if understanding his words, both cats leap off the bed and head for the door, meowing insistently.
You groan, burying your face in Max’s shoulder. “Five more minutes?”
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know they won’t let us rest until they’re fed.”
“True,” you sigh, reluctantly sitting up. “I suppose we should get up anyway. Don’t you have that interview today?”
Max nods, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah, in a couple of hours. Nothing too intense though, just a quick chat about the next race.”
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, stretching. “Want me to make coffee while you feed the furry overlords?”
“Sounds perfect,” Max says, getting up and pulling on a t-shirt. He pauses at the door, looking back at you with a soft smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, the same feeling you get every time he looks at you like that. “You might have mentioned it once or twice,” you tease. “But I never get tired of hearing it.”
Max crosses the room in two quick strides, pulling you into a deep kiss. When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless.
“I love you,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “More than I ever thought possible.”
You cup his face in your hands, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “I love you too, Max. Always have, always will.”
A loud meow from the hallway breaks the moment. You both laugh, the spell broken but the warmth lingering.
“Duty calls,” Max says with a wink, heading out to tend to the cats.
You make your way to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and pulling out mugs. As the rich aroma fills the air, you can hear Max in the other room, talking to the cats as he fills their bowls.
“There you go, Jimmy. Easy, Sassy, there’s plenty for both of you.”
You smile to yourself, struck once again by how perfect this all feels. It’s not just the quiet moments like this morning — it’s the way Max lights up when he talks about racing, the pride in his eyes when he brings home another trophy. It’s the way he holds you after a particularly rough day, or the sound of his laughter when you’re goofing around together.
Max joins you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you pour the coffee. “Smells amazing,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.
You lean back into him, savoring the moment. “The coffee or me?”
“Both,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.
You turn in his arms, handing him his mug. “So, what’s on the agenda after your interview?”
Max takes a sip of coffee, thinking. “Not much, actually. I was thinking maybe we could have a quiet day in? Watch a movie, order takeout?”
“Sounds perfect,” you say, your smile widening. “I’ll even let you pick the movie this time.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Even if it’s another racing documentary?”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Even then. Though I reserve the right to fall asleep on your shoulder if it gets too technical.”
“Deal,” Max grins, pulling you close for another kiss.
As you stand there in the kitchen, coffee in hand and cats weaving between your legs, you’re struck by a profound sense of rightness. This is what you’ve been searching for, life after life. This quiet, domestic bliss with the man you love.
“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, noticing your thoughtful expression.
You smile, leaning into him. “Just ... how happy I am. How perfect this all is.”
Max’s arms tighten around you. “It really is, isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder if I’m dreaming.”
You pinch his arm lightly, laughing at his mock-offended expression. “Definitely not dreaming.”
“Good,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “Because I never want to wake up from this.”
As you stand there in the morning light, surrounded by the life you’ve built together, you silently thank whatever force has finally allowed you and Max to find your happily ever after.
The wheel has turned, the cycle has ended, and at last, your souls have found their home.
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gojoest · 6 months
Text
A LUCKY ONE — satoru being sickeningly in love with you, gn! reader, you're naked in bed, calls you beauty
“well, well… look what we have here”, satoru’s morning voice wafts through the air as he lifts the blanket covering the two of you up, just a tiny bit but enough to take a peek — “a naked beauty in my bed”. the view of your bare legs (one of which is thrown over his) helps the idiotic smile on his lips crack wider. his lips look a little dry, you think. you haven’t kissed them since you fell asleep last night. you should fix that, you think, because yours start to feel a bit dry too.
you slowly charge towards his face with yours until your lips meet his for a short kiss. “you’re a lucky one — because i have a naked loser in mine”, you sigh as you pull away but—
—he pulls you back,
“oh, so?”, and effortlessly drags your body on top of his, wrapping his arms around you. both of his hands resting at the small of your back. “beauty and the loser sounds like a good match, no?”
“it’s not like i have much of a choice here. the beauty is stuck with the loser, you see”, you try to slip away but no use, he’s got you good — his arms won’t budge. “see what i’m talking about?”
“so you’d choose someone else to be stuck with if given the chance?”, he gasps, then purses his lips into a pout.
“as if you’d ever give me that chance”
“absolutely never”, he squeezes you tightly — physically emphasizing what he just said — before placing a hand at the back of your neck to pull your face close and hide it in the crook of his neck. “you’re mine”
“see, do i even have a choice?”, you try to hold back your chuckle at his adorable reaction.
“no. you’re stuck with this loser right here, like it or not”, he responds. still pouting, still holding you close.
“guess i have to learn to live with that”
“good. make sure to excel at it because it’s a matter of life and death — this loser can’t live without you”
“i’ll do my best then, or it’ll weigh on my conscious”
“that’s the only reason?”, another gasp leaves his mouth.
“hmm…”, you take your time before you continue, pretending to think very hard of another reason. “maybe the fact that he’s my loser has something to do with it, but i’m not very sure — either way, he’s a lucky one i’d say”
“yea”, his cheek squishes against your head, a pout still present on his lips. “he really is a lucky one, but you — you’re a very mean one, you know? just tell me you love me already”, he whines.
“or what?”
“or we’ll stay like this in bed all day”
“okay. i don’t mind”
“oh? neither do i, to be honest”, he snorts.
after all this is much better for him.
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hoshifighting · 1 month
Text
seventeen reaction when you shout back at them during an argument
WARNINGS: angst, arguments, disturbing peace.
seungcheol is someone who usually controls his emotions. it wasn't like him to lose his cool, and it definitely wasn't like you. but in the heat of the moment, everything seemed to spiral out of control. “you never listen to me!” seungcheol roared, his face red with frustration. “i’m tired of having the same argument over and over!” “oh, so now I’m the problem? you think you’re so perfect, don’t you?” you shot back. “maybe if you actually cared, you’d see how hard this is for me!” seungcheol’s face pales, and he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. you hear him pacing outside before he finally shuts the door to the bedroom, needing space to cool down before he says something he’ll regret. you hear him muttering to himself, “i need to calm down… we’ll talk later.”
jeonghan, on the other hand, gets really dismissive when he’s angry. he scoffs, rolling his eyes when you yelled. “seriously?” he muttered, the sound barely audible. “this is ridiculous.” the scoff only fueled your anger further. “don’t you dare laugh at me like that!—you know what? I’m done here!” you shouted, grabbing your coat and storming out of the house. jeonghan didn’t chase after you. he watched you leave, and after a few moments of silence, he slumped into a chair, burying his face in his hands. he knew he’d have to call you later—after the tears had dried up, anyway.
joshua is visibly hurt when the fight escalates. “i can’t believe you’re acting like this!” he yells. you’ve never heard him like this, and it shocks you enough to shout back, “you think i’m the one acting up? look at yourself!” the sadness in his eyes hits you harder than the argument. when you shout again, “you never listen to how I feel!” his face falls, and he looks crushed.
junhui doesn’t raise his voice, but if he does, it’s a rare and shocking sight. “why are you always so difficult?” he yells. as soon as he sees your face contort in anger, he covers his mouth and starts apologizing. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to shout. please, let’s just talk.”
soonyoung turns the argument into a full-blown shouting match. “this is ridiculous!” he yells, and it feels like the argument will never end. “just stop yelling!” you scream back, and he’s not backing down. it’s like you’re both on a never-ending loop of shouting until there’s a knock on the door. the shouting goes back and forth until someone finally knocks on the door, checking if everything’s okay. the sudden interruption makes you both realize how out of hand things have gotten. “we’re fine!” he shouted back, but he could see that you were both far from okay.
wonwoo is pretty laid-back, so when he yells, it’s surprising. “i don’t know why you’re making this so hard!” he shouts. but when you scream back, “oh, so you’re just going to yell at me now?” he blinks, a bit stunned. “i’m sorry,” he says quietly, rubbing his face as if he’s just realizing how loud he was.
woozi doesn’t need to raise his voice to cut deep—his words are sharp enough. “you always do this,” he hisses, his tone cold and biting. but you’re just as sharp, snapping back, “and you’re always an asshole!” woozi clenches his jaw, his hands trembling as he tries to hold back from saying something even more hurtful. it’s the messiest fight you’ve had, but the sight of each other crying breaks down whatever walls were still up.
minghao has this way of dealing with fights by stepping back. “you know what? forget it!” he shouts, turning to leave the room. but your voice stops him in his tracks. “oh, so now you’re just going to walk away like always?!” “i’m not dealing with this right now,” he says firmly, “i’ll talk to you when you’re calm.” it’s frustrating because you know he’s shouting too, but he’s set on giving you both space. “you think running away solves everything?” you snap. “we’ll talk later,” he repeats, and you’re left feeling like there’s more distance than before.
mingyu is usually all about calming things down, but sometimes, even he loses it. “i can’t do this anymore!” he shouts, his frustration boiling over. but when you scream back, “then why are you still here?” it’s like someone poured cold water over him. he's pretty taken aback when you scream. “you really think that’s the way to handle this?” he says, looking wide-eyed. but when you scream again, he stops, realizing how serious it is.
seokmin can’t handle prolonged fights well. “we need to separate for a bit,” he suggests, almost like you’re siblings who need a timeout. “this is just too much.” you both end up in different rooms, cooling off but still feeling the sting of the argument. it’s like you’re not fighting anymore, just waiting for the other to make the first move to make up.
seungkwan is in shock when you yell. “i can’t believe you just did that!” he says. his outburst is more out of desperation than anger. “i don’t know what else to do!” he yells, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. but when you shout back, “well, yelling isn’t helping!” the look on his face crumbles. his mouth opens and closes, trying to find something to say, but all that comes out is a shaky breath.
vernon doesn’t yell. it’s just not him. but if he does, it’s like a dam breaking. “just let me speak for once!” he shouts, his voice louder than you’ve ever heard it. but your response is even louder, “then say something worth hearing!” the tears that spill down his cheeks are instant. “i’m sorry,” he chokes out, “i’m so sorry.” it’s a moment that neither of you knows how to come back from. he cries, feeling like the whole argument is his fault.
chan fights with a purpose of determination to resolve things, but when it gets bad, you both end up crying. “i’m not going to stop until we work this out,” he says firmly. “i want to make things right.” by the end, when you’re both exhausted and crying, he pulls you into a hug, and you both just hold each other, trying to make sense of the argument.
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illusioninfnty · 1 year
Text
day 6 ; dry humping
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↠ monkey d. luffy x reader
fandom: one piece word count: 1.1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dual virgins, luffy and reader are inexperienced, jealous!luffy if you squint, takes place a bit after opla season 1 so luffy is aged up
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
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“Luffy?” You call for your captain, peeking your head into his quarters. “Is everything okay?”
You noticed that your cheery and optimistic captain had been unusually quiet the past few hours. He never had gone that long without some sort of exclamation or crazy action, and his odd behavior was worrying to you. So when he finally retreated to his room, you decided to follow to see what was up.
“Oh!” Luffy’s eyes widen, as he says your name, clearly surprised to see you. He sends you a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug, going inside and closing the door behind you. You take a seat next to him on his bed. “I don’t know,” you start. “You just seem…distant. You can tell me what's bothering you.”
Luffy sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his curls. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel just so frustrated. But no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of it!”
You were confused too, unsure why Luffy wasn’t able to brush this off like he always did. Until a lightbulb went off. You remember Sanji mentioning urges that men get sometimes, and how they need a woman to fix it.
“It sounds like you might have some tension, you know, down…there.”
Luffy pauses, taking in what you said, before his eyes brighten. “I think you’re right!” he exclaims. “Oh wow, that makes a lot of sense now.” He goes quiet again, a sheepish look spreading across his face. “I don’t know how to get rid of it, though.”
You bite your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think I’m able to help you with it.”
Luffy jumps up and grasps your shoulders. “Alright!” he cheers. He sits back down next to you and looks up at the ceiling, seemingly in thought. “That actually makes a lot of sense. The feeling always gets worse whenever I’m around you. I guess you have to be the one to fix it then, huh?”
“O-oh.” You stutter. Not only did you just discover that your captain (who you may have had a tiny bit of a crush on) was sexually frustrated, but he was like that because of you. A wave of heat rushed down your body.
“Yeah.” You confirm to Luffy, hoping to not seem too excited about this whole situation. “I just have to get on top of you.”
Luffy nods, spreading his legs and leaning back on his forearms, inviting you in. You immediately notice the boner he’s sporting, which makes you heat up even more. You seat yourself right on top of it, causing the two of you to moan harmoniously.
You start to move yourself on top of Luffy, his clothed cock hitting your pussy in the perfect spot. The fabric of your underwear rubs against your clit, causing your wetness to begin to stain it.
You reach your hand down to palm him through his shorts, hoping that you're bringing him pleasure from at least one of two ways. Luffy looks up at you with curious eyes.
“How’d you know to do this?” he asks you.
“I heard Sanji talking about it. He says guys feel like that a lot. Pent up, ‘s what he called it.” He goes quiet for a moment. “Have you done this with him?”
“W-what? No!” Your hands scrunch up in his vest and you swallow hard. “This is actually my first time doing anything like this,” you admit sheepishly, eyes downcast.
Luffy grins. “Yeah, me too!” he says brazenly. “Guess we’ll figure out how to do this together!” He laughs. 
You send a matching grin back as you continue to grind on top of him. You’re practically sopping now, an audible sound happening when you rock back and forth on Luffy. His cock throbs furiously, and you gasp when he grabs your hips.
He starts to rock back onto you, pumping his hips upwards into you. You lean forward as the sensation weakens you, and Luffy buries his face into your neck.
“Feels good…” he mumbles into you. You hum in agreement as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.
You increase your pace, wrapping your arms around Luffy as you both press close against the other, grinding each other uncontrollably. 
Luffy suddenly stills your hips and moves you onto the bed, face down and ass hanging off the edge. You gasp in surprise.
“Want to try this,” he breathes out as he hovers over you. You’re met with him thrusting against you from behind, hips moving wildly as he lets out low groans behind you. Luffy wraps his arms around your midsection, holding you in place.
You’re strung out and helpless as Luffy humps into you, his pulsing cock hitting against your clit. Your wetness has fully soaked your bottoms, and Luffy is able to thrust his cock between your clothed lips with ease.
Your captain moves with reckless abandon, hips jutting against your own. Neither of you can talk past groans and whines. This act feels primal, both of you desperately chasing your release.
His hands on your waist tightens as he humps into you and his groans are loud in your ear. You arch yourself into him, attempting your best to rub yourself against his cock.
He moans out your name into the crook of your neck as his body covers your own. “You feel really great,” he continues, his voice cracking. He moves faster and faster against you, seeking his peak. 
Your hands fist the bedsheet as you bounce back and forth against his thrusts and grinds against your clothed pussy. “Luffy!” you cry out. You can feel his hips start to move out of rhythm and he lets out a final low moan before you feel the stickiness of his cum seep through his shorts and onto your own.
Both of you are panting furiously, tired from your romp. Luffy rolls off of you, collapsing next you on the bed. You turn yourself onto your back and lean towards him, basking in the pleasure you just received.
Luffy turns his head towards you. “I don’t want you to do that with anyone else on the crew.” He says, with more seriousness than you’ve heard from him all night.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” You hesitate to continue as you prepare for disappointment with your next statement. “But—if you want, we can do this again soon. If you’d like to.” You mentally hit yourself in the head for stumbling over your words so embarrassingly.
He sits up, seemingly recovered from his orgasm. “Are you kidding? You don’t even need to ask! ‘Course we are!”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around your captain and giggling into his chest.
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6K notes · View notes
lemonturquoise · 1 month
Text
Midnight Antics
Sylus x Reader
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Luke and Kieran swallowed hard, their nerves frayed as they faced their boss’s anger. The stern look in Sylus’s eyes was a clear sign of his disappointment, and the tension in the air was almost palpable. Although they were partly responsible for letting you go out with your friends, their main concern was the lateness of the hour. It was already midnight, and you still hadn't returned. Their anxiety had mounted with each unanswered call, making the waiting seem endless. When Sylus came down the stairs, his stern expression only heightened their dread.
Suddenly, the main door burst open with a loud crash. “Sylus!” You stumbled into the house, your movements unsteady as you clung to him. Your disheveled appearance and slurred speech made it evident you were quite drunk. Luke and Kieran let out a collective sigh of relief, their tension easing as they saw you finally home safe. "I miss you” you mumbled, your voice thick with intoxication. Sylus, trying to maintain his composure, gently but firmly grabbed your chin to make you look at him. "Where have you been?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and frustration. Your gaze was unfocused as you struggled to respond. “I… hmm… went out with my friends” you replied with a giggly hiccup. Sylus’s irritation deepened. “And you didn’t even bother to let me know?” His tone was sharp, and his grip tightened slightly. “Ouch!” you exclaimed, pulling his hand away with a wince. “I told Luke and Kieran about it and thought you weren’t coming home tonight” you added, your laughter fading into another hiccup. Sylus lifted you into his arms and carried you to your room.
He threw you on the bed, and you swayed slightly, trying to steady yourself. “I need to change” you said, your voice slightly slurred. As you struggled to change out of your party clothes and into something more comfortable, Sylus watched with a mix of exasperation and concern. Your attempts were clumsy and slow, revealing just how drunk you were. After you managed to change, you stood on the bed, trying to balance as you almost reached Sylus's height. The sight of you struggling to stay upright while trying to look him in the eye softened his irritation. You started pinching both of his cheeks with a playful grin. “Come on, don’t be mad.” you laughed, though your laughter was somewhat incoherent. “You’ve surely had a lot to drink, huh?” Sylus tried to hold your hands to stop you from pinching his cheeks. “Sleep now. We’ll talk tomorrow.” he said in a cold tone.
As he walked to the door to leave, he heard the soft sound of crying. He turned around and saw you lying on the bed, tears streaming down your face. Your sobs were muffled, and Sylus felt a pang of guilt. He sighed deeply and approached you. “Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice softer now. “You’re mad and you don’t love me anymore.” your voice breaking with emotion. Sylus looked puzzled, but then his lips curved into a faint smile. He sat down beside you, his earlier frustration wearing away. “I’m not mad. Just don’t do it again.” he said, gently patting your back. “Really?” you asked, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Yeah, now go to sleep.” he reassured you. You suddenly threw yourself at him in a tight hug, nearly making him lose his balance. As you clung to him, Sylus found your state and the way you misinterpreted his feelings both warm and cute.
He was about to say something but was cut off by your playful pinching of his cheeks once more. Sylus managed to disentangle himself from your embrace with a tired smile. Despite the late hour and his earlier frustration, he found your antics charming. “Alright, enough.” he said with a small affectionate smile. “I’m going to my office for a bit. We’ll talk things through in the morning. Go to sleep now, kitten. I love you, okay?” as he kissed your forehead.
He settled you back into the bed, your crying subsiding as you relaxed into the blankets. “Goodnight, Sylus. I love you too.” you murmured, your voice now soft and content. Sylus left the room and headed back to his office, feeling a mix of relief and lingering fondness.
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wakeup01 · 3 months
Text
Theft Of A Bro
Uffh. Yeah, that’s good. Just like I thought…tight. We’ll see how long that lasts. No need to talk bro, I know what you want to say. You’re sorry for reacting that way, that me being gay shouldn’t have changed anything. That you shouldn’t have used that slur, or called me a bitch.
Hindsight is 20/20 though, especially when you’re getting fucked by a bro who’s stealing your muscles. Dude, don’t look away. Look me in the eyes, I want you to watch your legs dangle hopelessly above you as I take your masculinity. Take the body you worked so hard for. And I want to see your expression when you begin to love it.
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I can already see your arms deflating down there, becoming dainty twigs. You won’t be able to lift a thing with those. That’s okay bro, you can give that bulk to me. I’ll put it to good use. Fuck. See them balloon, so fucking good man. Rrrrww! My biceps feel so much stronger, check out these guns. Check out YOUR guns on my body. Haha. What? Come on bro, you can forgive me for a bit of flexing. Okay maybe a lot of flexing, but I can’t help it. You were always such a egocentric showoff - puffing out your chest like a territorial beast. A textbook, self obsessed fuckboy, now I understand why.
And just look at my expanding pecs. So fucking thick and juicy. Bouncing in time with my th—thrusts! Those used to be yours. You always hated how guys used to eye them up, but now you’ll be the one salivating at them. No need to try and deny it my dude, soon enough your body will have new…needs. Wow bro, you’re already looking real flat down there. Those endless hours spent at the gym to boost your fragile ego, only for me to steal it within seconds. All that definition just fading into your tiny, slimming stomach. Those grab-able hips. Fuck, me on the other hand, I’ve never felt stronger. You could break rocks on here! I’ll take good care of these abs, they look better on me anyway.
Aww, your square jaw is rounding out to a cute little pouty face. Squirm all you want. You look so adorable when trying to seem angry bro. Hard to take you seriously when you’re blushing so intensely. You did always tease my boyish features and now my head is like chiselled marble. And you? That button nose and those freckles, guys are just gonna love you. Say goodbye to being a manly jock. Hello twinky boitoi! I think your waist is now thinner than your girlfriend… or is that ex girlfriend now? That’s a body designed to be fucked brah. So just let me fuck it. Take it like a BITCH! Like the BITCH you thought I was.
Uff. I can feel my cock expanding inside you. The veins pulsing, flowing with blood. Can you feel it too bitch? Yeah, by your expression I know you can. Stretching your hole wide, filling you to the limit. Feels good, doesn’t it. Don’t look now but your dick is shrinking. I’m stealing all that length, all that girth; pushing mine deeper and deeper inside you. Pounding that prostate. There you go. A tiny nub. My churning balls are dropping lower and swelling as yours shrivel up. Mmmff. Fuck that’s sick bro.
Yeah, it’s okay to moan. Your breathy voice getting higher and higher, as mine gets deeper. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s normal for slutty bitches in heat like you. It’s in your nature. Especially when in the presence of an alpha god like me. Whew, my pits are sweating like mad, just smell that intense musk. Smells just like you used to, bet that fact makes you real hard. Smelling your scent dripping from another man as it’s stolen from you.. Sniff and moan. Sniff, moan and give everything to me.
Holy shit, even your skinny legs are hairless now bro. Just like the rest of your smooth, svelte physique. How does it feel? How does it feel to be the ideal gay bottom slut, the very thing you abhorred.
Why so quiet broski? Oh that’s right, we’re trading that pigheaded ego for an eagerness to please. You had enough confidence to share, so I’m taking it. Taking all of it. Fuck. Yes. Your outspoken nature is draining into me, leaving a timid little mouse in it’s place. A stark difference from that rude, puffed-up dick you prided yourself on being. Even now I bet part of you wants to talk back, be a brat. Hm, but that shy smile betrays what you really are. A well behaved boy who knows his manners. Isn’t that fucking right? Heh, good boy.
Look at me and see what you used to be. Marvel at me, marvel at what you’ve lost. Starstruck at your own well deserved comeuppance. Feel your nub twitch at the sight of the perfect man fucking your jock-hood into nothingness. That strength being sapped away. It makes you feel so small and weak. But you can’t tear your eyes away.
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Your head? Sorry bro, I got bored of being the dumb one, so yeah, I’m taking your smarts too. Even if you did waste it and let your cock make most of the decisions. Maybe if you hadn’t held it over me, looked down at me. Well…who’s looking down now? Don’t worry, being air-headed has it’s benefits. That empty look in your eyes, the open drooling mouth. Blissful ignorance. The cute way you’ll get confused at the simplest of things. The ‘ummms’ and ‘huhs’ as you bite your lip and push out your rear. Talking like the complete basic bitch gay you once hated. The constant state of mind melting hornyiness. Dumb as a rock. A complete ditz. You’ll get by doing ‘favours’.
I’m not a jackass though. Not like you were. It’s only fair you get something of mine bro, you can have what’s left of my body fat. Unf. Straight to your rear. Let it plump up your butt to a perfect round bubble. A wobbly shelf. A big bouncy booty. Woof. Yeah just like that. The perfect entrance to your endlessly usable fuck hole. Damn, it’s tight. Let’s conquer it.
Bruh, your masculinity is truly delicious, surrender the rest up to me. To my new hulking, godlike form. Purge every trace of manliness from your puny effeminate body with abject glee. Lisp, smile and giggle like a silly little girl. Like the Femboy you were destined to become.
Like a BITCH.
Say again? Bthweed? Oh, you want me to BREED you. Way ahead of you bro. When I cum with my monster cock, your pretty little head will become stuffed with thick, cummy cotton candy. And bro, it’s never gonna clear up again. I have a new adorable outfit already picked out for you. Thigh high socks, booty shorts, a tiny thong and a nice thick collar with your name on the tag. BITCH.
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I’m gonna enjoy parading you out in front of all our fraternity bros. You’ll pretend to be all timid and ashamed but I’ll know you’re actually loving the sense of humiliation. Loving your new place as my emasculated gay fucktoy. If you beg enough I might even let the rest of the frat borrow you. I’ll be sure to let ‘your’ girl know that you were a good hole after being passed around. Maybe she’ll even give you tips, you’ll be besties in no time.
Hm? That’s ‘thank you sir’ to you. That’s better. Let’s be clear, we’re not ‘bros’ anymore. I’m a fuckmachine and you’re a glorified fleshlight. We need to make sure you don’t forget your role. A simple tag will suffice. I’ll even let you choose where your ‘BITCH’ tattoo goes. Forehead or rear, it’s up to you. Yeah boi, I think it’ll look good there too.
Now open wide BITCH and be ready to swallow. I’m about to fucking blow.
———-
Whew! That was a good fuck. Clean up boy, the other bros will be here soon and I…woah. Damn, I feel lightheaded. It’s like my brain is overstuffed. With…stuff. And my cock, uughhh. It won’t soften. Maybe I took a bit too much from you, but fuck, I couldn’t help myself. You deserved it after all. But bruh, I need to lift! Huhuh! Oh shit. I don’t want to be exactly like you were! But dude. Like bruh! My head! Gotta lift! Gotta flex! Gotta get to the gym and be the blockheaded fuckboy muscle jock this body deserves!
Pass me your old jockstrap, yerhh, my huge cock gonna do the thinking for the both of us brooo!
1K notes · View notes
gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months
Text
ℛℯ𝓁𝒶𝓍
a/n- Give my boy a break 😭 no warnings, angst to fluff. But this is like my second time writing for him so I don’t have his character completely down and analyzed ): hopefully it’s good
fnaf masterlist
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You knew he was having a hard time with everything. His hands were on his forehead, as Abby rambled on at the dinner table. His eyes stayed glued on the bills, wondering how he’d pay for it.
He was just fired from another job, some job at a pizzeria this time. The pay wasn’t good, anyways, but it saved Abby from having to go to Jane.
“Hey, Abby, why don’t you go show me your new drawing?” You said, interrupting her rambling. Mike looked up at you, shaking his head. His eyes saying “it’s fine.” But you shook your head back, and gave him a small smile.
“Okay.” She said, jumping up from the seat and grabbing your hand, leading her to the room.
After a while, you tucked her in. In a way, she thought of you as like a mother.
“Goodnight, Abby.” You said with a smile, she smiled back and you shut the door.
You went into the living room, where Mike was staring off into space as he cleaned up the dishes.
You came up behind him, he jumped, not expecting you.
“She asleep?” He mumbled.
“Yeah. Mike…” you started, as he dried his hands.
“Hmm?”
“Come on. Let’s sit down for a second.” You said, he furrowed his eyebrows. Was this your way of breaking up with him? A million thoughts ran into his head, his anxiety getting the better of him.
“Hey, it’s nothing bad.” It’s like you could read his mind. You put your hand on top of his as you sat on the bed. He sat across from you.
“What is it?”
“I just.. I noticed you’ve been stressed, and I didn’t really wanna tell you this cause I know you would be all ‘we’re fine!’ And stuff. I got a second job. And I think that you just need to take a break for a second-“
“Wha- Y/n- how’s that even gonna-“
“Work out? It will. I promise. I’ll still be here every night, and I know you’re struggling. Mike, I just want the best for you.” You said, looking up at his glassy eyes. You were too good for him, he thought.
“We’ll make up the bill, and we’ll figure everything out. Together. I promise.” You said, smiling at him again.
“But why would you-“
“Because I want you to relax. I love you, and I would do anything for you. A second job isn’t gonna hurt, okay?”
Tears start to fall down, the weight of everything was crashing down on him. Abby, getting fired, Garrett, and now he felt like he was burdening you.
You frown, and scoot closer to him. You wrap an arm around him, he cries into your shoulder.
“You’re not a burden, Mike.” You mumbled.
“I love you.” He said, and you smiled. That was all you ever needed from him.
4K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 11 months
Text
peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader
y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩
view all comments
user1: excuse me 😀
user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related
alexalbon: erm what is is ?
yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy
alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass
yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital
alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again 🤨
yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY
oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really
yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges
georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.
user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?
yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?
oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no
yourusername: ugh boring
user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman
oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines
yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?
georgerussell63: more like e l james
yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK
yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x
user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime
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oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup
view all comments
user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE
yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”
oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing
yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP
oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did
yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists
oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not
yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(
georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for
yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨
georgerussell63: well yes but needs must
oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong
landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs
georgerussell63: okay i get it damn
yourusername: SMASH
alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?
yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too
alexalbon: excuse me?
yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl
lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳
alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING
oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life
user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos
georgerussell63: do not encourage her
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.
view all comments
user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands
user9: she did NAWT hold back omg
oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour
yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone
oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me
user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?
yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.
georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.
yourusername: thank you georgie
oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here
yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸
alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN
user11: alex spill how brutal was it?
alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing
yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement
alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports
yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist
georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(
user12: why are we celebrating violence?
user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL
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oscarpiastri
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liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.
view all comments
user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES
georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you
yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him
georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY
oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george
georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done
oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law
yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE
georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.
user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes
landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?
yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy
danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy
yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel
oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass
yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch
yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go
danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute
logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard
oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two
yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭
landonorris: WHAT ????
oscarpiastri: no comment
logansargeant: no comment
yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍
landonorris: no comment
alexalbon
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe
alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten
view all comments
user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship
yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING
alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated
yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily
alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph
oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n
alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house
yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK
alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you
yourusername: bare minimum
user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????
landonorris: lando norris erasure
charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure
oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town
landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(
yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud
landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63
georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago
yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay
oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real
user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf
yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really
oscarpiastri: and you love it
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note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)
4K notes · View notes
pholla-jm · 6 months
Text
Heir
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IMAGINE: HEIR ~ SUKUNA X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: sukuna is a bit ooc. fem!reader. not proof read. set in the heian era. true form sukuna. ***************
If someone were to tell Sukuna that in some years that he would have a wife, he would laugh at them… and then kill them. 
But here he was, thinking about how his beautiful wife looked with a small bump on her tummy. It’s all he could think about really. Ever since he found out his wife is pregnant, his view of the world changed. 
Sure, he still thinks that humans were lowly disgusting vile, but the world seemed like a better place with you and his future child in it. 
His every day activities seemed a little less fun now, and all he thought about was getting back home to his wife. 
After a day full of people worshiping him and some killing, he made his way back to his castle. Where his wife should be patiently waiting for him. 
******** 
“What do you think you’re doing?” You hear the deep voice of your husband call out causing you to jump a little. 
He had found you in a different room. It was bare at first, but you were starting to add things to the room. 
You were working on a traditional crib for the baby, having different silks laid out in front of you to choose. 
It was a bit early to start getting ready for the baby, but you were too excited.
You turn to look at him. He towered over you, with his four arms crossed as he looked at you with a disappointed look. 
“I just want to make sure that the baby’s room is going to be perfect.” You say turning back to the silks. 
Sukuna hums, sitting down next to you while observing the objects in front of you. 
“How long have you been doing this?” You shrug, “not that long.” 
“You could always have the servants do this, you know? You shouldn’t be working so hard.” 
“Yeah, I know. I just feel like if I do this myself, it feels more special.” 
Sukuna breathes out a happy breath, leaning his chin on one of his fists. He knew that you would make a great mother. Someone that is nurturing, and he knows that his future son will be loved and taken care of. 
“Still, you should be taking care of yourself. It’s important that you and our son are completely healthy.” 
You perk up hearing the word ‘son’. “Son? It’s a bit too early to know the gender.” 
Sukuna just smirks, eyeing you up and down. “Trust me, I know it’s going to be a boy.” You laugh, “oh yeah? How so?”
He points at your belly, “It’s lower. A low stomach means it’s going to be a boy.” 
Your eyes widen and you look away from him in disbelief. “Where did you even hear that? I didn’t know you believed in old wives tales anyway.” 
“It’s not an old wives tale if it’s the current talk.” “The current talk? What, are you gossiping with the local ladies now?” You laugh at the idea of Sukuna gossiping causing him to frown. “Whatever woman. What they say is true.” “Okay, we’ll see.��� 
"I don't want you working on this room by yourself anymore. I have to be here to help you, okay?" You nod your head, a bit happy that Sukuna came up with a quick compromise. "Sound good to me. You can do all the heavy lifting."
Sukuna nods, then points at one of the silks that are laid out in front of you. It was a darker colored one, something that you knew he would like. “This one. It’ll be great for our son.” 
You decide not to comment on the son thing again. With a smile, you pick it out and put it to the side.
Pushing your hands on the ground, you start to get up from the ground. “What are you doing?” “I have to use the bathroom.” You say. However, Sukuna gets up faster than you. He gently picks you up, carrying you bridal style. “I can walk by myself.” You tell him with a small smile. 
You appreciate that Sukuna doted on you like this, but you don’t know how long you would be able to babied like this. 
“When I’m around, you’re not doing a single thing. You understand?” 
With a content sigh, you relax in his arms. Head resting on his shoulder, hearing the faint sound of his heartbeat.
“Yes, my beloved, I understand.”
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