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cheftsunoda · 3 days ago

Note

hii, i have an idea for Kimi where he has a girlfriend that lives in another country but for his graduation she surprises him there even though he thought she was still in her own country

fairy godmother max— ka12

smau + blurbs

yn and kimi have been together since they were fifteen—growing up side by side, even as life started pulling them in different directions. now, with yn living in another country and kimi chasing his dream in formula 1, time together is rare, and the distance is harder than either of them expected. when kimi’s graduation day arrives, he assumes it’ll be just another milestone, another event she’ll have to miss. but what he doesn't know is that yn has a few surprises up her sleeve…with the help of a certain world champion.

fc : darianka on ig

(a/n) : i was waiting to post this until after kimi graduated and he officially has so yay kimiiiii!!!

—

yourusername

nyc📍

liked by kimi.antonelli, carmenmmundt, franciscagomes and 1,125,007 others.

yourusername : forever in love with the big apple but forever missing my boy 🤧

—

view 187,005 other comments.

georgerussell63 : real question is…when is the reunion and who is gonna tape it? uncle georgie needs a good cry

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ yourusername : dunno when it’s gonna be but I’ll have someone film just for you george

liked by georgerussell63

↳ yourusername : in the mean time i can just send you those depressing ads with the dogs if you want

liked by kimi.antonelli

↳ georgerussell63 : NO.

↳ carmenmmundt : the last time he watched one it took me 2 hours to get him off the couch

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

maxverstappen1 : i will send air-max to you rn if it means my child will stop being depressed

liked by kimi.antonelli and yourusername

↳ yourusername : thank you for the offer mother goose but sadly i have a shoot tomorrow

liked by maxverstappen1

↳ maxverstappen1 : well whenever you need it, it’s yours

liked by yourusername

↳ lando : can we all just start calling max mother goose?

↳ maxverstappen1 : no. yn is the only one who has that privilege. everyone else runs the risk of getting throat punched.

liked by yourusername

kimi.antonelli : how am i supposed to focus on anything after you posted this 🧍🏻‍♂️

liked by yourusername

↳ kimi.antonelli : sei così meravigliosa😻

liked by yourusername

↳ kimi.antonelli : forever missing my girl, come home to me pls.

liked by yourusername

↳ yourusername : omg i miss you so much. love you to the moon and back😭😭

liked by kimi.antonelli

franciscagomes : the prettiest angel in the world 😍

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ yourusername : keeeeeeks! it was so good to see you last week. i missed you sm

liked by franciscagomes

↳ franciscagomes : was literally the highlight of my trip! love youuuuu

liked by yourusername

carmenmmundt : I think it is safe to say that we ALL miss you. So get back to us ASAP!

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ yourusername : trying my best carms 😁

—

The screen lights up with his name just as you’re about to crawl into bed.

Kimi 💙 wants to FaceTime…

You smile instinctively, heart tugging even before you swipe to answer.

“Hi,” you say, and there’s a warmth in your voice that only exists for him.

His face fills the screen a second later — hoodie on, hair slightly messy like he’s been running his hands through it, eyes heavy with something unspoken.

“Hey,” he murmurs. And just like that, it’s quiet. The kind of silence that wraps around your chest and squeezes.

You can tell. He’s trying to be fine. But the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes tonight.

“You okay?” you ask softly.

He nods once. Then again. “Yeah. Just… I don’t know. I miss you.”

You sigh. “I miss you too.”

He leans back on his pillow, the phone angling just enough to catch the posters on his wall and the edge of his desk, cluttered with school papers and notes. “Graduation’s in a few weeks and everyone keeps asking who’s coming. And all I wanna say is you, but I don’t even know if you can be here.”

Your heart cracks just a little. “Kimi…”

“I’m not mad,” he says quickly, like he already regrets bringing it up. “I know you’re busy, and the flights suck, and F1 weekends don’t exactly stop for me to wear a silly cap and shake someone’s hand. It’s just… I want you there. Really bad.”

You don’t say anything at first. Because what is there to say? You want to be there too. More than anything. But your schedule’s been insane, and between time zones and obligations, it’s all starting to feel like you’re stuck behind a glass wall you can’t break through.

“I’m trying to figure it out,” you tell him honestly. “I swear, I’m looking at flights every day. I want to be there more than you know.”

He nods, eyes flickering down like he’s trying to hide the weight of it all. “It’s not even about graduation. It’s just… I’m tired of missing you. Tired of this screen being the only way I get to see your face.”

You swallow hard. “I know. Me too.”

“I’d give anything just to have you next to me right now,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Even if we didn’t talk. Just to know you’re here.”

You press your hand to your chest like that might hold it together. “We’re almost there,” you promise. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Promise?”

You smile, aching and real. “Always.”

He lets out a shaky breath and leans in just a little closer to the camera, like if he tries hard enough, he might reach you through the pixels. And you sit there, both quiet, both hurting, but both still trying—because that’s what love looks like from miles apart. Not perfect. Just worth it.

—

You scroll past the name twice before your thumb finally hovers over it. Max Verstappen. You haven’t called him in weeks — not because anything’s wrong, but because life has been busy, chaotic, distant. Still, he’s always made it clear: “For you and Kimi? Anytime. Anywhere. I’ll send the damn jet if I have to.”

And tonight… you need the jet. The phone rings once. Twice. Then you hear his voice — scratchy, tired, but still very Max.

“You’re alive,” he says. “Was starting to think you ran off to join a cult in New York.”

You laugh under your breath. “Hi, Max.”

“Hi,” he echoes, but softer this time. “What’s going on?”

There’s a pause. Not because you don’t know what to say — but because saying it makes it real. Your heart is already in Italy with Kimi, counting down the days to his graduation, to seeing his name called, to the one moment he’s been dreaming of since he was a kid. And you can’t miss it.

“I need to call in that favor,” you say.

There’s a beat of silence. Then a low chuckle. “I knew this day would come.”

“I’m serious,” you tell him. “I’ve checked every flight, every connection, and nothing gets me there in time. He keeps pretending it doesn’t matter, but it does, Max. I have to be there.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Say less. The jet’s yours.”

Your throat tightens. “Really?”

“Really. I’ll have it waiting. You just tell me where and when. And YN?” His voice softens. “You showing up? That’s going to mean everything to him. You two… you’ve got the real thing. I’ve always known that.”

You blink fast, suddenly overwhelmed. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“Good. Then we’re even,” he teases, a smile clear in his voice.

You shake your head, heart full. “I owe you.”

“Just send me a picture of his face when he sees you. That’s payment enough.”

And just like that, the plan’s in motion. Because sometimes, the people who love you don’t need explanations — they just show up. Or, in Max’s case, they send a jet.

—

You pace your room, nerves buzzing in your stomach like bees. Max has already confirmed the jet — it’s happening. You’re going. But there’s one more call you have to make before you start throwing clothes in a suitcase.

You scroll until you find the contact saved as Mamma Antonelli 💕 — because that’s how she insisted you save it after the first summer you stayed with them in Bologna. She picks up after two rings, and before you can even speak, her voice lights up.

“Tesoro! It’s been too long! Kimi told me you’ve been busy with work — are you eating? You always sound tired when you’re not eating.”

You laugh, heart swelling instantly. “Hi, Mamma. I’m okay, I promise.”

“Mm-hm. I don’t trust you. But I love you anyway,” she teases. You can already hear the clatter of dishes in the background — Sunday dinner prep, probably. “To what do I owe the honor?”

You sit on the edge of your bed, smile slipping into something more serious. “I… wanted to tell you something. Actually, I wanted to ask something.”

“Oh no. Are you eloping?”

You snort. “What? No!”

“Okay, okay, just checking. Then what is it?”

You take a breath. “I’m coming to Kimi’s graduation. Max is sending the jet. I haven’t told Kimi — I want to surprise him.”

There’s a pause, and then— “Oh, mio Dio. You’re going to make me cry.”

You smile, a little watery. “I couldn’t miss it. He’s pretending he doesn’t care if I’m there or not, but I know it matters to him. And I just… I need to be there. For him.”

You hear rustling in the background, her calling out something in rapid-fire Italian. Then Kimi’s dad gets on the phone, his voice warm and familiar.

“She told me. You’re coming.”

“I am,” you say, smiling into the phone. “But don’t tell Kimi. Please.”

“I would never,” he promises. “He’s been sulking around like a lost puppy. This will knock the wind out of him — in a good way.”

“He’s going to freak out,” you whisper, grinning now.

“He’s going to cry,” his mom adds in the background.

You laugh. “You really think so?”

“We know so,” they say in unison.

“Okay, then,” you breathe. “Let’s pull this off.”

“We’ll be waiting at the airport,” Mamma says. “And then we’ll get you hidden before he even arrives. We’ll make it perfect.”

You hang up a few minutes later, cheeks aching from smiling so hard. Your chest is lighter now — filled with excitement instead of guilt. This is happening. You’re going to be there. And Kimi? He has no idea what’s coming.

—

The jet is sleek and quiet, and somehow still feels completely surreal. You’re strapped into the soft leather seat with your hoodie pulled tight over your head, window shade half-closed as the engines hum beneath you. You can’t stop checking your phone — triple-confirming the flight path, re-reading texts from Max, and replaying the plan in your head like you’re about to perform a heist. And just as the jet begins to taxi down the runway…

Kimi 💙 is calling…

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“No, no, no, not now,” you mutter, scrambling to answer before the noise gives anything away. You slide down in your seat, like somehow that will make you less suspicious.

“Hey,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady and definitely not like you’re ON A PRIVATE JET.

“Hey,” he says, sounding a little breathless. “What are you doing?”

You blink at the window, watching the airport disappear into motion. “Um. Just… heading somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” he repeats, a soft laugh in his voice. “That’s vague.”

You gulp. “Work stuff. Last-minute thing. Super boring.”

You can hear the smirk. “That why you sound all nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” you say quickly. Too quickly. “Just tired. Early morning.”

“It’s like… 3PM where you are.”

Shit.

“Time is fake,” you blurt. “It’s a construct.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then Kimi laughs, low and warm, and somehow that makes everything worse. “You okay?”

“Totally. Totally fine. Just lots going on. Meetings. Presentations. Jet lag.”

You wince. Jet. Wrong word. Terrible word.

But Kimi, bless his oblivious heart, doesn’t react. “Well, I just wanted to hear your voice. I know things have been hectic.”

Your chest aches. “I’m really proud of you,” you say, suddenly emotional. “I know graduation is coming up and you’re probably pretending it’s not a big deal, but it is. You’re amazing, Kimi.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I wish you could be there.”

“I know,” you whisper, holding your breath so you don’t ruin everything. “Me too.”

Another silence. Then. “Okay. I’ll let you go. Call me later, okay?”

“Promise,” you say, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” he says, before the line goes dead.

You exhale, head dropping back against the seat. Somehow, you didn’t blow the surprise. Barely. And now, you’re flying toward the one person in the world who has no idea you’re about to show up and change everything.

—

The jet touches down with barely a bump, sunlight flooding through the window as the plane slows on the runway. Your heart is pounding, fingers drumming nervously against your thighs. You can’t believe you’re actually here. In Italy. For him. As the cabin door opens and the warm air hits your face, you quickly pull out your phone. There’s only one person you need to call first. Max Verstappen.

He picks up on the second ring.

“You landed?”

“Just now,” you breathe, already smiling. “Max… thank you. I know you always joked about sending the jet, but—”

“I wasn’t joking,” he interrupts casually. “I’d do it again. And again. You two are disgusting and adorable and give the rest of us hope.”

You laugh, a little choked up. “Seriously. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Like I said…all I need is proof of his reaction. I want to see the exact moment his brain breaks in half.”

You grin. “Done.”

“Good. Go get your boy.”

You hang up just as you spot them — Kimi’s parents, waiting just outside the private terminal with barely contained excitement. His mom is the first to see you.

“TESORO!” she yells, rushing toward you with open arms.

You barely have time to drop your bag before she’s hugging you so tightly your feet actually lift off the ground. “You’re here! You’re really here! Oh, mio Dio, he’s going to collapse.”

“I missed you too,” you laugh into her shoulder, overwhelmed in the best way.

Kimi’s dad pulls you into a hug next, his hand warm on your back. “He’s going to lose his mind,” he says with a proud grin. “He’s been pretending he doesn’t care, but he’s been moping around like a ghost.”

“And now,” his mom adds, wiping tears from her eyes, “you’re going to walk in and ruin him. Perfectly.”

“Thank you both,” you say, heart full. “For keeping the secret. For being part of this.”

“We’d do anything for you,” his mom says, cupping your face. “You’re family.”

And as they lead you to the car, laughing and chattering about the plan, your heart feels light again.

—

You’re crouched behind the kitchen counter, holding back a laugh as Mamma Antonelli calls out, “Maggie! Tesoro, come here for a minute!”

Tiny footsteps echo down the hallway, quick and full of purpose.

“What?” Maggie’s voice is high pitched and dramatic in the way only ten year olds can manage. “I’m making Kimi a card! And I used the fancy markers!”

“Just come, piccola,” Mamma says, smiling wide as she stirs a pot on the stove. “I have something to show you.”

Maggie stomps into the kitchen, all pink socks and hair in a pink headband, holding a glittery construction paper card in one hand and a scowl on her face. “This better be good.”

You slowly peek out from behind the counter.

“Surprise,” you say softly.

Maggie stops immediately.

Her whole face drops—eyes going wide like saucers, mouth falling open as she stares at you. For a second, she doesn’t say a word.

Then—“YN?!”

You barely have time to nod before she shrieks and runs at you, throwing her tiny arms around your waist with all the force her little body can manage. You stumble back a step, laughing through the sudden sting in your eyes.

“You’re really here?” she asks, voice muffled against your hoodie. “For real real? Not just on my iPad?”

“For real real,” you promise, hugging her tightly. “Just for Kimi. But I had to see you first.”

She pulls back, cheeks flushed with excitement. “He’s gonna cry. I just know it. He’s been all moody and weird and saying stuff like ‘it’s fine’ even though it’s clearly not fine.”

You giggle, wiping your eyes. “That sounds like him.”

“I’m gonna help!” she declares. “With the surprise! I can distract him or hide you or pretend there’s a present and then BOOM—it’s you!”

You glance at Mamma Antonelli, who’s trying not to cry into her wooden spoon.

“I think we just found the mastermind,” you say.

Maggie beams. “I’m so good at secrets. Except for that one time I told Papa about the broken vase, but that was different.”

You ruffle her hair. “We’ll be careful this time.”

She nods like she’s just been given a secret mission. “He’s gonna be so happy. You’re his favorite person.”

Your chest aches with love. “He’s mine too.”

And as Maggie skips off to start planning “Operation Surprise Kimi,” you take a deep breath and smile—because in this house, with this family, you’ve never felt more at home.

—

The sun is warm and golden, spilling over the ancient stone buildings that line the courtyard. There’s laughter in the air, shouts of congratulations in Italian, the occasional champagne cork popping in the distance. Red laurel crowns sit proudly on graduates’ heads, marking the end of years of hard work. And Kimi?

Kimi Antonelli is right in the middle of it all, standing in his white linen shirt, the crown just slightly crooked on his head, cheeks flushed from the sun — and maybe from emotion he’s not letting himself show. He’s smiling for photos, thanking professors, dodging confetti and hugs and the occasional overzealous cousin, but something is clearly missing. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. And you see it. From where you’re hidden behind a group of olive trees with Maggie and his mother, your heart aches for him. You should’ve been standing beside him. But not for long.

“Kimi’s still over there,” Mamma Antonelli whispers, lifting her phone to start filming. “Max and George said to absolutely not miss the moment. Max said he’s taking bets on whether Kimi cries or faints.”

“I think both,” Maggie whispers gleefully. “Or maybe he’ll scream like a goat.”

You’re trembling a little, heart hammering as Mamma gives you the softest little nudge. “Vai. Go.”

You nod, swallow hard, and step out from behind the trees. Kimi is turned slightly away, laughing at something his best friend just said. His crown has slipped further down his forehead. His hand is gripping the side of his phone like he wants to text someone — probably you. And then, he hears it.

“Nice crown, graduate.”

He freezes. His body stiffens. His head snaps up. Slowly, like he doesn’t quite believe it, he turns around.

And there you are. Standing a few feet away in the same sundress you wore the summer you first visited Bologna. Hair curling from the humidity, eyes shining, heart in your throat. You’re smiling — already crying — but smiling. For a full five seconds, Kimi doesn’t move. Then he drops everything — the diploma folder, the champagne glass someone handed him, even his crown slips a little more off his head — and he runs.

His arms are around you in seconds, lifting you clean off the ground like he can’t believe you’re real. You’re laughing and crying into his shoulder, fingers buried in the back of his hair.

“You’re here,” he says, over and over again. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

You nod, pressing your forehead to his. “Surprise.”

Kimi pulls back just enough to look at you, tears now clearly in his eyes. “How? How are you here?”

You grin. “Max sent the jet.”

He blinks. “Max?!”

“And your mom helped. And your sister. And George’s only request was that you cry. So, you know. No pressure.”

He laughs through the tears, breath hitching as he leans in and kisses you like he’s starving for it — like months of distance and missed calls and sleepless nights dissolve in that one moment.

Behind you, you hear Maggie yell, “HE’S CRYING!” followed by the sound of Mamma Antonelli’s voice narrating in shaky, emotional Italian for the video.

“Look! Guardalo! Max, George — sta piangendo come un bambino innamorato!”

You break the kiss, burying your face in Kimi’s neck as he holds you tighter than ever.

“I didn’t want to miss this,” you whisper. “I couldn’t.”

“You didn’t,” he breathes. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

And as red petals and confetti rain down from the sky, as friends cheer and his family watches with misty eyes and proud smiles, Kimi kisses you again — this time slower, softer, like a thank-you, a promise, a homecoming all in one. You showed up. You always would. And for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly right.

—

The sun is low by the time you arrive at the Antonellis’ countryside home, warm golden light spilling across the terracotta tiles and olive trees. Kimi’s laurel crown sits on the dashboard of the car like a trophy, slightly bent but still proud. He holds your hand the entire drive — knuckles white, like if he lets go, you might disappear again. You don’t blame him. You still can’t believe you’re here either.

As you step out of the car, you’re immediately hit with the familiar scent of garlic, tomato, and fresh basil — the kind of smell that makes your heart ache with nostalgia. Mamma Antonelli is already out on the porch in an apron, yelling something toward the kitchen window.

“You brought her home and you graduated? Finally, we can breathe again!” she announces dramatically, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling you in for another warm, crushing hug. “You’re sitting next to me. I don’t care what Kimi says.”

“She likes you more than me,” Kimi mutters beside you, grinning. “Confirmed.”

“I’ve always liked her more than you,” she shoots back, ruffling his hair before disappearing inside.

Dinner is a beautiful kind of chaos. Plates piled with pasta al forno and roasted vegetables, bottles of red wine passed around the table, someone shouting over someone else every few minutes. Kimi’s cousins are arguing about sports, his uncle is showing your graduation surprise video to anyone who will watch, and Maggie is seated at your side, proudly telling everyone how she was “basically the mastermind.”

Kimi watches you through all of it — not in the way people usually mean when they say that, but really watches. Like he can’t believe you’re real. Every time you laugh or lean in to wipe tomato sauce from Maggie’s cheek or clink glasses with his dad, he looks at you like he’s still catching his breath. At one point, as the noise dies down just slightly, he leans over and kisses your temple.

“You fit so perfectly here,” he murmurs. “You always have.”

You smile against your wine glass. “Maybe it’s because I love all of you more than you love each other.”

Mamma overhears. “Grazie, finally someone tells the truth!”

Later, as dessert is brought out — a homemade tiramisu that’s already half gone by the time it reaches your side of the table — Kimi takes your hand under the table and squeezes it. You look over to find his eyes a little glassy again, his voice low and full of that kind of sincerity that only happens when the world slows down for just a second.

“I meant it earlier,” he says. “You being here… it made everything feel real. I didn’t care about the ceremony or the diploma. I just wanted you.”

You squeeze his hand right back, heart full. “And now you have me.”

He leans in, presses a soft kiss to your cheek, and murmurs. “Forever, if I get my way.”

—

The house is finally quiet. The last of the dishes have been cleared, Maggie’s tucked into bed, and Kimi’s parents are somewhere inside. The warm night air spills in through the open window, carrying the scent of jasmine and summer. You’re curled up on the little balcony just off his childhood bedroom, one of his old hoodies draped over your shoulders, your knees pulled to your chest as you look up at the stars.

He joins you a moment later — barefoot, hair a little messy, still glowing from the day. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just sits down beside you, thigh brushing yours, hand finding your knee like it belongs there. Which it does.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey.”

“You sure you’re real?” he asks, turning toward you. “Because you keep disappearing on me.”

You smile, tipping your head to rest on his shoulder. “I’m real. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhales like he’s been holding that breath for months. You sit in silence for a moment, watching the lights flicker in the distance. Then he speaks again, voice low and honest in a way that only ever happens when the world finally goes quiet.

“I really thought you wouldn’t come.”

Your heart squeezes. “Kimi…”

“No, I know it’s not your fault,” he adds quickly. “I just— I told myself I didn’t care. Told everyone it was fine. But it wasn’t. I wanted you there. Needed you there. And then you were.”

You reach for his hand and lace your fingers through his. “I wanted to be there the second I found out the date. I would’ve moved mountains. Or at least begged Max to move them for me.”

He laughs — soft and tired, but real. “You don’t know what that did to me. Seeing you. I think time stopped for a second.”

You turn your head and meet his gaze, moonlight catching the gold in his eyes. “It stopped for me too.”

Kimi leans in and kisses you gently, slowly — no rush, no heat, just something warm and full of meaning. His hands slide around your waist, pulling you close until you’re practically in his lap, curled against him like the final missing piece has clicked into place.

“I don’t care how busy things get,” he whispers. “How far the races are or how many airports we have to go through. I just want you to keep showing up like that.”

“I will,” you promise. “Whenever it matters. Always.”

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you echo, voice full and sure.

And there, on that quiet balcony with the stars overhead and the world asleep around you, Kimi holds you a little tighter — like he finally believes this isn’t just a dream.

—

The morning comes slow and golden. A breeze slips through the open window, carrying the scent the garden below. The room is still — warm and hazy, touched by early sunlight. Somewhere down the hall, you can faintly hear the clink of mugs and the low hum of his mom talking to Maggie. But here, wrapped in Kimi’s arms, the rest of the world doesn’t matter.

His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek, his heartbeat steady and grounding. One of his hands is tangled lazily in your hair, the other curled around your hip like he never quite let go during the night. He’s warm, impossibly so, like the sun lives beneath his skin. You shift a little and feel him stir.

“Mmm,” he hums, voice still raspy from sleep. “Still here?”

You smile without opening your eyes. “Told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

He kisses the top of your head, slow and sleepy. “Good. Would’ve chased you if you did.”

“Would’ve made you work for it.”

“I’d work forever if it meant waking up like this.”

You finally lift your head and look at him. His curls are messy, one cheek slightly smushed against the pillow, but he’s still devastatingly handsome in that quiet, undone way. His eyes are soft, heavy-lidded, full of something deeper than just sleep — something closer to awe.

“You’re staring,” you murmur.

“You’re here,” he says back, like it’s still the most unbelievable thing in the world.

He brushes your hair back gently, fingers ghosting along your jaw like he needs to memorize it again. “Last night felt like a dream. The dinner. The surprise. You. This.”

“This is real,” you whisper.

“I know. That’s the best part.”

You snuggle closer, nose tucked beneath his jaw. “Your mom’s making coffee.”

“She’ll wait.”

“I think Maggie’s outside our door.”

“She’ll survive.”

You laugh into his chest, and he pulls you even tighter. “Let’s stay like this a little longer,” he says. “Just you and me. No rushing. No flights. No leaving.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Just us.”

And you stay there — tangled in sheets and sun and each other — hearts steady, breaths slow, the morning stretching out like it was made just for the two of you.

—

yourusername

liked by kimi.antonelli, maxverstappen1, georgerussell63 and 2,572,003 others.

yourusername : my boy graduated and i got to be with him thanks to our fairy godmother @/maxverstappen1. my heart is so full <3

tagged : kimi.antonelli

— view 189,017 other comments.

georgerussell63 : i cried. a lot. in tears just thinking about it. my children are so grown 🥹

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ yourusername : more than the dog ads?

liked by georgerussell63

↳ georgerussell63 : more than the damn dogs.

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ carmenmmundt : he has been showing the video to literal strangers and saying how much of a proud dad he is.

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ yourusername : oh georgie.

liked by carmenmmundt and georgerussell63

maxverstappen1 : i'll buy you each a jet if it means i get to see that look on kimi's face again.

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ yourusername : so good to us maxie

liked by maxverstappen1

↳ lando : wait i am like the only one who hasn't seen this video. someone send it. NOW.

↳ georgerussell63 : i sent it to you like two days ago, muppet. check your texts.

↳ lando : oh good now im in full blown tears.

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

alexandrasaintmleux : sooooo cute mon ange

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

charles_leclerc : totally not teary eyed. congratulations kimi!!

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

kimi.antonelli : my whole world. i love you now and forever.

liked by yourusername and maxverstappen1

↳ maxverstappen1 : god i try so hard to be disgusted by you two but i just can't. what is wrong with me?

liked by yourusername and kimi.antonelli

↳ lando : motherly instincts

liked by yourusername, kimi.antonelli and maxverstappen1

—

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h3rmess · 2 days ago

Text

WHO'S YOUR FRIEND?

Written by @h3rmess ✰

28) - Congratulations!(I guess…)

They finally remove the blindfold from Karasu’s face once he is seated. He squints as his eyes adjust to the lighting in the room. To his left, he notices a window that takes the place of a wall and then realises that he can see the entire city. He hears giggling and turns around to see Chigiri, Nagi, Yukimiya, Otoya, and Reo standing behind him. He turns to his right and jumps slightly, shocked by the sight of you.

“Did they kidnap you too?” He questions, observing your face carefully.

“What? Kidnap? What the hell did you do to him, Otoya?” You’re beyond confused as Otoya turns away from your gaze and whistles, acting as if nothing happened.

You glare at him with murderous intent before turning back to Karasu with a warm smile.

“Remember when I said Reo asked me to hang out?” He nods. “I guess he had something planned.” Chigiri clears his throat, interrupting you.

“Get a room, you guys…” Reo says in feigned disgust.

“We’re literally here against our will, dimwit.” Karasu spits.

“Enough of that stuff…” Chigiri steps forward. “We need details.”

“Details?” You repeat.

“Who, what, when, where, why, how? Come on, spill.” Chigiri prompts.

“The ‘how’ doesn’t really fit in there. It’s meant to be the five W’s.” Reo chimes in.

"You look like grape koolaid.” Chigiri rebuttals quickly before turning back to you. “Now, come on, tell us exactly what happened between you two.”

“And if we don’t?” Karasu asked daringly.

“Otoya will post your nudes on twitter.com.”

“They’re not nudes ya fuckin-“

You look horrified, which also makes Karasu scared.

“Long story, but they’re definitely not nudes and I definitely didn’t take ‘em.” Karasu explains, leaving you confused.

“So… what exactly is this anyway?” You question Reo.

Reo places his hands on his hips proudly. “Since you two went out together and someone magically ended up dating, I took it upon myself to organise a party to celebrate your union!”

Karasu raises his eyebrow. “Yer makin’ it sound like a wedding.”

“So you don’t wanna marry her?” Reo responds.

“That’s… not what I said-“

“So you’re just doing this for fun? Huh, Karasu?” Chigiri adds.

“Why am I being targeted?”

“We just need to make sure you’re serious about this.” Reo states, crossing his arms.

Karasu’s usual smirk becomes present on his face as he rolls his eyes. “This is the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in.”

You nod in agreement.

“How about we play spin the bottle?” Otoya suggests, earning a weird look from everyone.

“Votes to kick him out?” Chigiri points to Otoya as everyone raises their hand.

Nagi, who has been half asleep this entire time, reaches into his pocket, pulls something out and throws it onto the centre table.

“Now, why the hell does Nagi of all people own a polaroid camera?” Chigiri questions.

“I take pictures of my high scores in games.” Nagi responds, earning a confused look from everyone. You all brush past it as Yukimiya picks up the camera, ushering you all into one area.

“Ooh, let me get the cake first!” Reo runs out of the room abruptly.

“WHY is there a cake?” Karasu looks extremely irritated and bewildered.

Reo comes back in with Baya trailing behind him holding a cake that reads “Congratulations! (I guess…)” written in cursive, dark icing which contrasts the white frosting and piping on the cake. Baya lights the candles and sparkler, setting it down on the centre table.

Chigiri pushes you and Karasu to sit at the table, the cake in front of you.

“Pick up the cake and smile!” Yukimiya commands from the other side of the table, ready to take a picture. You smile awkwardly at the camera while Karasu doesn’t bother - in fact, he’s scowling at Otoya who is stood behind Yukimiya and keeps blowing him kisses.

Yukimiya takes the photo and watches it print. He leaves it on the table to develop as Reo comes over with a knife. He points it at you. “Cut the cake already. Nagi’s hungry.”

“Here’s an idea - feed him actual food instead of cake.” You grimace at him, picking up the now developed photo. It’s so awkward, it makes you want to cry.

Despite the perfect lighting, your faces ruin it completely. Chigiri snatches it from you and starts laughing uncontrollably. Just as you were ready to shout at him, Karasu grabs your chin, turning your face towards him. He holds a silver spoon in front of you which holds some of the cake. He opens his mouth, encouraging you to do the same. You smile sheepishly before opening your mouth slightly, allowing him to feed you the cake. That’s when you see another flash - both you and Karasu move your eyes to look at the camera from the corners of your eyes. Karasu just looks back at you, seeing that you’re enjoying the cake and grins widely - a rare sight.

It had finally reached the evening, and all of you had finally left Reo’s “house” to go home (except Nagi, of course). You’re reliving the familiar moment once more as Karasu walks you down your street for the third time, hand in hand, basking in the cool evening breeze.

“I’m surprised Reo did all of that for us.” You speak quietly, smiling to yourself.

“Well, he does care for ya. I’m gonna have ta one-up him next time.” Karasu walks leisurely.

You chuckle, looking at him. “Trust me, just you being here is worlds better.”

The moment from your last date replays in your head : the awkward goodbyes, the kiss - everything was magical. You stop in front of your door just like before and take a moment to look up at the starts that are just starting to appear as the night blossoms.

“We wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for Reo, so we have him to thank for that.” Your voice is soft with a hint of satire.

“I think we woulda met anyway.” Karasu disagrees.

“Why’s that? I probably wouldn’t have spoken to you if Reo didn’t make me.”

Karasu pauses thoughtfully, “True… but maybe we were destined to meet.” You spot something remarkable in his eyes - a glimmer. A new light that wasn’t there when you had first met him. “That was so lame…”He mumbles with a smirk.

“You’re so special, Karasu.” You blurt out as he looks at you, confused and shocked, “I can tell you undermine your own abilities and talents. You try not to seem too amazing by trivial things, but I think it’s an amazing quality to have.” His eyes widen, surprised that you were able to see past his façade. “It’s so easy to forget about the little things in life, but someone as smart and perceptive as you always appreciates stuff like that. I find that endearing.” You can’t read his expression, he looks… angry? “You can be your authentic self around me. I’ll never judge you, okay?”

Karasu coughs as you finish your sentence, covering his mouth with his arm. His arm remains there for a little too long and you are curious as to why.

“Karasu?” You lean forward, trying to look at his face. That’s when you catch a glimpse of light reflecting off of a droplet on his face. He’s crying.

Your heart breaks slightly. You pull him into a hug immediately, rubbing his back and comforting him. After a while, you lean back to see his face; his eyes and nose a light pink shade, and a few tears still by his eyes.

“I don’t know why I’m crying…” He sniffs silently.

You hush him and tell him that it’s okay.

“Thank you. Thanks for being here me… and being my girlfriend… I’m so happy to have you…” He speaks, his voice strained as you wipe his tears. You place a soft kiss on his lips, pulling him by his arm toward your house.

prev | masterlist

-> LAST CHAPTER ARE WE SERIOUS

-> THIS HAS BEEN A JOURNEY WOWWW

-> lesson I learned was to pre-write multiple chapters so I can upload a lot

-> I LOVE ALL OF YOU!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR KINDNESS AND SUPPORT THROUGHOUT THIS PROCESS

-> there will be more to come from this, so just wait 😋

-> BYE BYEEEE

TAGLIST

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andy-15-07 · 2 days ago

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Could you do Joaquin Torres x f!reader

You went to gala in White House as secret agent. You walks around that lots of people and acquaintances came. Your dress is so nice in one off shoulder black dress. You walk over as you bump to someone, you’re gonna apologies. He hold your waist to be careful to fall. You two look each other in thirty second. You stand as he may introduced himself so do you. You two seem to have great chemistry. Having great time but Joaquin wanna have a slow dance with you. He just wants to see you again. You literally having good time with him. Sam came to Joaquin that he met someone so wonderful

(Hope you will write it, thanks and have a good day)

The Spy and the Pilot

PAIRING: Joaquin Torres x Reader 💋

WORD COUNT: 1948 ✍️

REQUESTS: Open! 💌 (send yours my way ,I love writing them all!)

🌟 Danny Ramirez Masterlist 🌟

You step from the motorcade onto the polished marble of the North Portico, heart thundering beneath the sleek lines of your one-shoulder black gown. It’s your first assignment of the evening: infiltrate the White House gala, gather intel on a shadowy arms dealer rumored to be attending, and,if necessity dictates,neutralize any threats. All under the cover of a glittering soiree, where diamond tiaras and tuxedos swirl like constellations of power and privilege.

Yet, as a consummate agent, you’ve donned your cover flawlessly. The inky satin of your dress clings to you like a second skin; discreet heels add inches to your height without compromising your foothold. A delicate bracelet hides a slimline comm device; the clutch at your side conceals microgram explosives. As you sweep past a pair of Secret Service agents, they nod curtly,unaware they’re letting in not just a guest, but an operative.

Inside, the East Room is awash in soft amber light. Crystal chandeliers dangle overhead, each prism scattering rainbows across polished mahogany and white-marble columns. Guests murmur in clusters, flute glasses catching the glow. You lift one to your lips, allowing yourself a sip of champagne, scanning for the target. Your eyes flick from senator to tech magnate, from foreign dignitary to socialite, all while your heels click decisively, elegant but purposeful.

Yet before you can triangulate your mark, a ripple of movement catches your eye. A man in a tailored charcoal suit sidesteps toward the bar, his dark hair falling in unruly waves over a thoughtful brow. A pair of deep-set brown eyes flick up to meet yours. Your breath catches,shoot, not now.

You pivot on a heel to give way to a cluster of debutantes in ivory gowns. But in that split second, you misjudge the clearance, and your elbow collides with someone’s shoulder. Glasses tinkle. A collective gasp and you spin to apologize, ready with a smile as practiced as any spy craft.

“Excuse me,I’m so sorry,” you murmur, voice calm.

“Careful,” a warm voice says, low and amused. You look up to find the man in charcoal bending to steady you by the waist, his hand firm against your hip. The heat of his palm radiates through the satin of your dress. Time pauses.

His eyes are curious, amused, perhaps concerned. You realize too late that your legs had nearly given out; without his steadying hand, you would’ve stumbled into the crowd.

“I…thank you.” You let your hand linger on his wrist for a heartbeat before releasing it. “I should watch where I’m going.”

He straightens, sliding his hand off as though aware of propriety. “Only if you intend to keep that dress flawless tonight,” he says, a playful lilt in his voice.

All at once you recognize him: Joaquin Torres, decorated Air Force pilot-turned-Avenger liaison. You’ve heard about him,his unwavering resolve, his fierce loyalty, his quick wit. But you’ve never met him in person. Let alone had him catch you mid-stumble.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve a rescue from Señor Torres,” you say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to keep your tone light.

“Just doing my civic duty,” he replies, tipping an imaginary hat. “But once you join the heroes’ club, you can call me Joaquin.”

Your pulse flutters. “Call you…Joaquin. I may still owe you an apology. May I buy you a drink in compensation?”

A slow smile curves his lips. “I’d like that.”

He offers his arm and you link yours through his. The crowd parts as you move toward the bar together. Conversation flows as smoothly as the champagne:

“So what brings you to the White House gala, Señorita,?”

“(Y/N),” you supply, glancing at your name badge. “(Y/N) [Last Name]. I work in the Department of International Relations.”

“And what sort of mischief does the Department of International Relations get into at a gala?” he teases.

“Only the most diplomatic,” you quip. “And you? I hear you’re working security detail with SHIELD tonight.”

He shrugs modestly. “Calling it detail seems grand. I’m just here to keep an eye on anyone who might blow up the place.”

You both chuckle, the easy camaraderie loosening your professional reserve. He orders a round of champagne, and you raise your glass in toast.

“To new acquaintances,” he says. “And to not falling flat on your face in front of the nation’s leaders.”

You clink glasses, the bubbles tickling your throat. The air between you hums.

Over the next hour, you duck into alcoves to share whispered confidences. You learn he’s been in country on reconnaissance missions; you spin tales of diplomatic negotiations in far-off capitals. Laughter springs freely when he recounts riding camels in the desert; you smile at his teasing when you confess you once tripped over your own suitcase on assignment in Tokyo.

At one point, he glances at the ballroom floor, where a slow, swelling melody has begun. A dance number. The orchestra’s violins beckon.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, stepping closer, eyes alight.

Your breath catches. “I,yes.”

He slips an arm around your waist; you rest your hand on his shoulder. He guides you to the dance floor. The lights dim slightly, turning the room into a swirl of silver and gold. Other couples drift around you like glowing boats on a dark sea.

As the first notes drift from the orchestra pit, Joaquin draws you close enough that you can feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. The world contracts until it’s just the two of you, swaying gently.

“You’re a surprisingly good dancer,” he murmurs.

“I had a great teacher,” you reply, the warmth of his arm around you making your conversation intimate. “You?”

“First time I’ve asked someone to dance at a White House gala,” he confesses, voice low.

You look up at him. The candlelight on his cheekbones. The earnest tilt of his head. “I’m honored to be your first,” you say softly.

He smiles, that brilliant, boyish grin. “Then I must be very lucky.”

They say slow dances are meant for whispered fantasies and passing touches, and in that moment, you understand. The soft brushing of his hand against yours. The careful way he guides you. The gentle rhythm of your breath. Always, he keeps one protective arm around you, as if to ensure nothing shatters this fragile bubble.

When the song ends, you both linger, toes still pointed in the center of the floor. Applause breaks out. Joaquin bows with mock flourish.

“I think we just stole the show,” he jokes.

“I’d watch your back more carefully,” you warn with a grin. “You never know which agent is truly on duty.”

He lifts a brow, then winks. “I’d hope I could count on you to cover mine.”

Your chest warms. “I might just surprise you.”

The evening flows on: you slip away to dart down a service corridor, checking the hidden doorway where your contact awaits. She hands you a dossier on a certain attendee rumored to be exchanging illicit weapons blueprints. You tuck it into your clutch, promising a later rendezvous. Then, duty calls again,a suspicious cell phone signal, an overheard threat. On your way back, you round a corner and nearly collide with someone.

It’s Joaquin.

“Everything all right?” he asks instantly, eyebrows knitting.

“Fine,” you say, blinking as you stash the dossier. “Just…caught up in a moment.”

He frowns. “If you need backup,”

“I’ve got it,” you insist. “But thank you.”

He nods, concern lingering in his eyes. “I’ll be around. Just…call if you need me.”

Something in that promise makes your heart flutter again.

Later, as the gala winds down, the president’s speech crescendos. Crystal glasses and orchids litter banquet tables. Guests mill for final farewells.

In a quieter chamber, near the grand staircase, Joaquin awaits you. His posture is casual, one foot on a low step, hands tucked in his pockets. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.

“You came,” you say, half-relieved, half-thrilled.

“I never miss the chance,” he says, offering a hand. “May I steal one more dance before it’s truly over?”

You smile and take it. Leading you down to a reprise of the earlier waltz theme, he murmurs, “I’ve been looking forward to this all night.”

Your head tilts on his chest. “I thought I might never see you again.”

“Not a chance,” he replies, twirling you beneath the grand chandelier. “I want to see you again.”

Your pulse spikes. “Then shall we set a date?”

“Dinner tomorrow?” He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “I know a little bistro that serves the best pasta.”

You laugh softly. “It’s a date.”

He brushes a stray curl from your forehead. “(Y/N), I,”

“Joaquin,” you prompt, voice tender.

He nods. “Joaquin. (Y/N). I’m glad we met tonight.”

“So am I.” You lift onto tiptoe, your lips brushing his. The moment is electric. Then he deepens it, drawing you close. The taste of champagne on his lips mingles with cologne and unspoken possibility.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless.

The next evening, under a canopy of twinkling lights in Joaquin’s little favorite trattoria, you sit across from each other, plates of steaming pasta between you. No espionage tonight,just laughter, stories, shared secrets. You learn he grew up in San Juan, Puerto Rico, and that he inherited his love of cuisine from his abuela. You confess your fondness for early-morning runs, the thrill of codes and ciphers.

Over tiramisu, he reaches for your hand. “I want more nights like this,” he says, sincerity warming his gaze. “Not just at work, not just at missions.”

You squeeze his hand. “I’d like that too.”

He grins, leaning in. “Good.”

In the weeks that follow, your worlds intertwine. Late-night stakeouts morph into moonlit strolls. Briefings with SHIELD civilian liaisons become dinner reservations at new restaurants. In the field, you fight side by side; off-duty, you coax each other’s smiles.

Once, during a critical extraction, he covers your retreat with precise suppressor shots. Once more, you hack security cameras to secure his escape. And each time, the trust deepens.

Between missions, stolen moments,whispers in darkened safehouses, shared coffees on rooftop terraces. He teaches you salsa steps beneath strings of patio lights. You reveal to him the intricate lock-picking set hidden in your heel.

Slowly, you shed your professional armor, revealing the person beneath the agent’s mask. He tells you about nights spent staring at the Puerto Rican stars. You confess childhood dreams of becoming a diplomat.

One evening, as you rest your head on his shoulder in the cockpit of a Quinjet, he murmurs, “I love you.”

You lift your head to him, surprised but certain. “I love you too.”

His face breaks into that radiant smile you first saw at the gala. “Good,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You trace his cheek. “Very good.”

Months later, you stand again on the White House lawn,not as spy and pilot, but as something more. The cherry blossoms bloom, and Joaquin stands before you, hand outstretched. In it, he holds a small black box.

“With everything we’ve been through,” he says softly, “I couldn’t imagine doing this life,adventures, missions, and all,without you by my side. Will you marry me?”

Tears spring to your eyes,joy, relief, love. You nod, voice trembling. “Yes.”

He slips the ring onto your finger, then lifts you into a tight embrace. Guests,friends, colleagues, and even a few stunned dignitaries,applaud. And in that moment, you know that your greatest mission yet is just beginning.

And it all started with a stumble in a black dress, a steadying hand…and a dance that changed your world.

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barleyo · 6 hours ago

Text

Frostbitten, Forbidden.

Hector Condicionado X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: another one shot with my favorite cretin. he's so lovely, i just want to eat him in one bite. hope you enjoy reading this!

Tags: dub-con, p in v, creampie, lots and lots and lots of dirty talk, sensory deprivation (eyesight)

Wordcount: 1.1k

Hector would do anything for you. He made it abundantly clear. From the moment you met him, or rather, from the moment he saw you, he knew he would make any sacrifice, any oblation, just to make you happy. No, he didn't want to make you happy—he wanted to keep you happy. A constant state of pleasure and contentment, all due to his own efforts.

If you were tired, he would build you a bed frame with his bare hands. If you were bored, he would come up with a story to rival the telling of Shakespeare on the spot. Sad? Paw at his vent and tell him all about it.

Fuck, he would slice his own palms and use the blood to write one of his novels for you if you wanted to do some light reading.

The only thing he couldn't do for you right now was turn up the heat. His only purpose, his one job, he simply couldn't do. Whether there was some sort of blockage in the air filters or a malfunctioning motor, nothing seemed to be working.

Dead winter and not a single puff of air to ease your pain.

It tore him up inside more than you would ever know, watching you toss and turn in bed, layering yourself in blankets that hardly helped. He tried for days to fix it himself. He borrowed tools from Tony, but hell if he knew what he was doing. Bang a wrench against the grate? Plead with the thermostat to co-operate?

He felt like mold. Worse, actually. At least mold gave the world penicillin. What was he giving his beloved? Hypothermia?

Your poor, freezing legs kicked under the thin covers in discomfort. He knew he had to do something, and he had an inkling of where his mind wanted to go, but it just seemed risky.

Then again, he'd take any risk to satisfy you.

Your body was shaking inconsolably at this point. You were miserable. Days of straight ice and still air were starting to get to you. Truly, you were convinced it was colder outside your home than in it, but you wouldn't run the chance of finding out. You wanted nothing more than to drift into sleep, but it was too cold to even hope for a good night's rest.

Just as you began to give up, you felt the bed dip beside you. That wasn't right. You lived alone.

You tried to scream, but a quick hand covered your mouth. Was this the end? Jesus, why you?

"Hush, my love, it is I."

Oh.

You slacked in Hector's grasp. You had heard his voice many times, and although it sounded a bit different outside of the vent, you still felt its comforting tones wash over you. That didn't change your confusion. Why was he out of the vent?

As if he could hear your thoughts clicking, he answered, "I couldn't stand to see you like this. Suffering, when I can do something about it."

You hummed against his palm in understanding. Your eyes flicked across the wall in front of you as you laid on your side. You wanted to flip over and see him. You tried to resist the urge, to respect his privacy, but your body acted on its own.

Hector quelled your movements sharply, firm hand turning your head to face the wall again.

"You know I cannot have that." His calloused hand covered your eyes instead. He cupped his palm over them to keep you both literally and metaphorically in the dark about his appearances. "Don't focus on anything but my warmth. Let me help you, amor."

He hastily fidgeted with his belt, popping the buckle with overly eager hands.

"Let me make everything up to you. Please."

"Don't you know what it does to me to have this power over you?"

Hector had gotten much more into this than he thought he would. Obviously, a chance to get this close to you, to touch you, was heaven, but to have complete control?

This was the stuff of fantasy.

Total domination, zero vulnerability. An opportunity to act on all the depraved things he had said to you in the vents without the fear of being judged for his looks? Sign him up.

"To have you at my mercy? To have all of your trust?" He bottomed out, pushing your face into your pillow. Gentle, as to not hurt his precious girl. "I've wanted this for so many moons. So much wasted time—god—if I knew it could be like this..."

You moaned a strangled little noise into the fluffy pillow. He hated not being able to hear the full extent of your pleasure, but there would be time for that another day.

"That's right," Hector said, voice syrupy and warm as he spoke to you, "I would've taken you much earlier."

His hands gripped your hips and forced them upwards. He dreamed about this. It nearly felt like deja vu, seeing as how he thought of bending you into these nasty positions many times before. It was almost too good to be true.

"Maybe I would have snuck out of the wretched vent early in the morning to visit you."

What a tease.

"Or maybe late at night. Late when you think nobody hears you, touching yourself in the dark." His hips stuttered. He didn't want to cum yet, not until you did. He wouldn't forgive himself if he messed up yet again. "I hear you. I hear every sound, every little noise you make. I turn the air up. Make it nice and loud, so nobody else gets to enjoy the show you put on."

Despite the slight uncomfortableness of the angle he put you in, you could see why he did it. He was hitting deep. Deep and purposeful. It was too much for you to handle, especially with his teasing.

"If only you would have asked me for help. I would've been out in a heartbeat."

A sexy, but flagrant lie. The sweet vent-dweller took to hiding deep in the vents when you masturbated, stroking himself recklessly while trying to silence his breathing. He was far too nervous to actually do anything about it and far too ashamed of eavesdropping.

"Next time you need pleasure," he choked out, feeling your gummy walls flutter around him, "call for me."

If he had any shame in the current moment, he'd be horrified at how quickly he came after you. He was simply waiting for your body's permission before he blew.

"I'm always here for you, love."

#date everything hector #date everything #hector valentino airnesto condicionado #hector date everything #hector date everything x reader #date everything x reader #x reader #tw: dubcon #dub con

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alexanderlightweight · 22 hours ago

Note

Hi! I'm a huge fan of your writing(you're low-key why I downloaded Tumblr so I could read more)! If you were up for it I'd love to read more from your to be or knot to be universe, or literally any of your freak4freak stuff! Thank you so much for writing, and I hope you're having a good day<3

hi! that is very sweet and i hope you're enjoying it! and i'm still just very happy and a little surprised how much people enjoy my malec verses (it's not a self-confidence problem i promise! i'm just still surprised ppl like the same stuff as me)!

i also hope you are having a good day too!!

here is some more of to be or knot to be last part here'

i hope you enjoy it and i am having a delightful time because i have a puppy who keeps pretending to get scared by something out the window so he has a reason to come climb in my lap (he doesn't need a reason? but like he's very particular about how things are done and he especially likes it when i comfort him if i think he's been scared?) but it did take me about 6 different instances to realize he was laying down sleeping, would wake up and feel lonely, boof at nothing and then look to see if i was watching him and then run to me 'so terrified!'

now that he's laying next to me, i'll sometimes kind of watch him and he'll wake up, look to see if i'm paying attention and most of the time he can't tell i can see him? so then he'll boof first and then jump up like he had a nightmare.

it's really ridiculous. i love nightshade so much tho

<3 lumine

Magnus pulls Alexander to him, enjoying the hitched groan as metal tightens and Alexander’s forced to come closer. Nephilim blood is a potent ingredient and yet instead of collecting it for use, Magnus licks it away.

Alexander’s fingers are covered in blood and under that are small, tiny little cuts. Magnus sucks each digit into his mouth to carefully clean away the blood and viscera, letting magic heal the wounds.

“You took too long.”

Alexander’s laugh at his reprimand is breathless, the look in his eyes wild and his boy swallows heavily against the martingale chain. The hunger in Alexander’s eyes only grows as the metal around his neck bites further into his skin and Magnus is tempted, so very tempted.

Yet warlocks have certain traditions that Magnus wants to follow. Not only to give Alexander every legitimacy and protection as his mate, but also to ensure the Clave has as little authority or ways to meddle as possible.

Magnus has no interest in shadowhunter politics, except in the ways it will help his own people. The kind of influence and access to information he’ll have thanks to a shadowhunter mate isn’t something to be taken lightly. Alexander is a threat for the Clave and they’ll know it immediately. Even if Alexander never expressly commits treason, just going against them as publicly as he’s doing makes Alexander dangerous.

If his mate gets to keep the Institute, then Magnus will do everything in his power to support his boy. Including join Alexander not perhaps in an official position, but even just as his mate, supporting him and being seen around the Institute.

Alexander has certain privileges as a shadowhunter Commander that won’t disappear simply because the Clave hates his mate. Magnus has seen some of the papers and strategies that Alexander has gone over and they’re good.

Good enough that Magnus can boldly state that it’s better not to have his mate for an enemy, simply by the measure of Alexander’s own merits. The Clave probably know that, which is yet another reason they’ll be both furious on wary.

“How long is your leave?” Magnus asks and his voice is hoarse with want but he holds himself back, managing not to twist the loop of Alexander’s collar and instead just leaning forward.

Alexander meets him, their foreheads pressing together as they both sigh in the relief of being close enough to share breath again.

“A minimum of three weeks. I wasn’t sure how long warlock mating instincts require so I set the maximum at five. If you need longer then I’ll take sick leave or resign if they refuse.”

The steadfast way Alexander makes it clear that Magnus is his priority has Magnus sighing with delight and nuzzling Alexander as he pulls him closer. The blood grows tacky between them and the thrill of Alexander being covered in it turns into disgust that his boy is still covered in such unworthy filth.

A snap of his fingers and Magnus cleans and strips them both, it probably isn’t needed and he could have simply cleaned their clothing — as evidenced by the fact that Alexander’s collar remains and is now pristine — however he wants to.

Alexander grins, something delighted and awed in his expression as he brings one of Magnus’ hand up to nuzzle and then kiss his palm.

“There are a few rituals we need to do, before we share a rut.” Magnus rubs his other hand down the curve of Alexander’s arm and then tangles their fingers together. “So while I will share a bath with you, I’m afraid as tempting as you are, I cannot fuck you just yet.” Magnus can’t help the chuckle he lets out at Alexander’s bewildered and crestfallen expression.

“Don’t worry kitten, we can start the rituals tomorrow. It won’t be long Alexander, I promise.”

AN:

alec: ... i should have left the institute even quicker. this is terrible. my self-control is going to be both better and worse being around magnus

magnus: oh he's so cute when he's flustered. this is going to be delightful.

magnus is 100% treating this like foreplay and alec is too caught up in the shock/whiplash to realize he's getting played (in a good way and magnus isn't lying about the rituals he's just also enjoying himself) and alec's still getting used to Magnus and Magnus' scent and him and his magic and he's catching up but it'll take him a little bit. like he'll definitely figure out how to tease magnus but he's still learning how to breathe around magnus atm so... he needs a bit.

alec is going to be suffering... but like, not in a bad way

alec wants magnus there, as his mate, as his alpha, respected and capable of ordering (and being obeyed) by alec's institute because it's another way for alec to show that he belongs to magnus. so completely that what is his to rule also belongs to magnus to a certain degree. like obviously magnus can't tell them orders contradictory to the claves or alec's, but yeah. alec basically has a set of standards and if clave cant meet them, he wont stay. magnus is more important to him than that. and so are his own persona priorities and instincts

#lumine writes #writing wednesdays #writing wednesday #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #malec #to be or knot to be

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aurorlia · 15 hours ago

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‎— ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎✸ ׂ ݂ ୨ ‧ ׅ JUST FOR ME ﾟ ꒱

# — art donaldson x afab!reader

♡ tags / warnings — 18+ — oral. (m. receiving). hair pulling. choking?. recording. + ..

♡ — once again, leaving for a tournament that you just couldn’t attend. He suggest the idea of something new, something he can keep on his phone to watch while you’re both so far from each other.

♡ taglist — @pittsick @nozhdyved @forgetmenotnympho @lov3lylxvender @museboos @cinnamongmm

♡ notes ! — new layout..hmm do we like it..tbh not sure I do !! + this is so short .. 😣

“come on, I just— one video and that’s it. one video to keep while I’m away from my beautiful girlfriend.” he whined against your neck, making you groan.

you gently shoved him away. “you just won’t leave it alone, will you?” you replied, earning a small chuckle from him. “No, definitely not baby. I need something to look at while im gone.”

“I mean..what if something happened to either of us?” He spoke, shrugging as if his stupid argument could actually work and newsflash..it did. he watched as you lined yourself up infront of his crotch, inbetween his legs and you watched as he got his bright red phone ready to record you. “you’re seriously crazy.” you murmured, a grin on his face as you finally let him free. His throbbing cock springing out of the barrier that were his boxers. It looked almost painful,

He groaned and you hadn’t even started, you hadn’t even touched it yet but you saw as his grip on his phone tightened. His bottom lip stuck inbetween his teeth, he huffed out in slight frustration at you. Watching as you didn’t start, just to tease him. “Don’t tease me.” He murmured, earning a sly grin from you.

you gently grabbed it, making him hiss through his teeth. you gently licked a stripe, his grip on the phone still tight and trembling and when you finally took it into your warm mouth. He gasped. “oh my..fuck, baby.” He whimpered, looking down at you making eye contact with him. He could literally cum just from that, just from the eye contact.

his whimpers filled the room and probably were gonna be the only thing you could hear in the video. He threw his head back as you took him deeper, his free hand immediately going to your hair. Gripping it like a damn lifeline, he watched as your nose hit the base. Your eyes filling with tears as you took him all way.

his grip on your hair was tight, his eager whimpers were dirty. “ohh..mph— m’so beautiful like this.” He mumbled, guiding your head. your head bobbing at the speed he wanted it to be and suddenly, his moans got louder and his grip got tighter if that was even possible. “oh oh! ohh! oh my— I’m gonna fucking cum.” He whimpered, babbling on. “okay baby?— I’m gonna cum so fucking hard.” He gasped, immediately pulling his cock out of your mouth. You quickly stroked him which resulted into his release.

he painted your face white, his chest moving up and down quickly from his panting and the grip on his phone still tight.

a few days after that, it was time for him to go and now that he was away, he walked into his hotel for the time being. It was fancy and expensive, he had the amazing idea of watching over the video.

he slipped into the sheets, pulling it up but was met with extreme disappointment. The video? was shaky and you couldn’t see much. Fuck—

so much for begging you to film a video.

#୨୧ aurora ྀི 🦴 writes ! ♡#challengers fic #challengers smut #challengers film #challengers #art donalson x reader #art donaldson #mike faist #fanfic

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lilyinavalley · 2 days ago

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Refractions🪞

𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 - 𝙿𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗

Taiga Hoshibami x mc Ao3 Ao3 versione italiana Warning! possessiveness [Masterlist] Welcome to my new series! Prologue Chapters: One - Two - Three

“And fundamentally, this is the situation.”

I had just finished recounting in detail everything that happened after we left the table. Ritsu had already escorted the woman out of the establishment, right after erasing her memory. Now that only three of us remain, four if we count Taiga, we can speak freely.

“Do you have any idea what kind of anomaly this could be?”

I anxiously watch the two ghouls, desperately hoping they have an answer to this question, but their expressions promise nothing good. Romeo paces back and forth, scratching his chin, his sharp eyes fixed on Taiga’s sleeping image inside the mirror. Ritsu, on the other hand, is busy searching for something on his phone. The vice-captain suddenly stops, as if he’s had a realization, but when he turns to me, his malicious gaze isn’t quite what I expected to see.

Romeo: “You know what, BB, let’s just leave him in there. His problem.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

Ritsu’s eyes widen as he looks up from his phone, staring at Romeo in disbelief.

Ritsu: “Vice-captain, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Romeo: “How many times have I told you to call me Fico?!”

He clears his throat and continues:

Romeo: “Besides… From what she told us, he’s trapped because of his own fault; sometimes it’s only fair that he faces the consequences of his actions. Plus, with him in there, my problems would decrease exponentially.”

Ritsu: “From a logical point of view, you’re not entirely wrong, but as my client, I can’t abandon him in this situation.”

Romeo: “And since when are you his official lawyer?!”

“Guys, please, let’s drop this discussion for now. Ritsu, I saw you looking for something earlier; do you have any idea how to get him out?”

Romeo: “Don’t igno…”

Ritsu: “I see you caught on, partner.”

The ghoul says with a brilliant smile, completely ignoring Romeo’s complaints.

Ritsu: “I did a little research and I think I understand what it is. It’s a Class C anomaly, so practically harmless, that manifests through an inanimate object but can also separate from it, a bit like a hermit crab leaving its shell. Its official name is Speculum Memoriae, which literally means Mirror of Memory.”

As soon as I hear that the mirror is harmless, I feel ten times lighter and let out a sigh of relief.

Ritsu: “People who pass through it can relive their memories and, without harming them, the anomaly absorbs their energy. From the testimonies that have been collected, those who enter should be able to exit autonomously.”

But Taiga has been inside for over an hour now…

Romeo: “So you’re telling me that idiot is staying in there of his own free will?”

Ritsu: “Exactly.”

“Is there nothing we can do to get him out?”

Ritsu: “No, only one person can enter at a time. We just have to wait.”

Romeo: “That’s if he ever gets out… With the shitty memory he has, I imagine he’s having a great time in there.”

“Do you think we can move the mirror?”

Inside me, all the moments I spent with Taiga, and which he immediately forgot the next day, begin to flood back… The thought that right now there’s a possibility he’s reliving the memories we shared ignites hope within me.

So when he comes out, will he remember everything? Even if only for a few hours, I’d like to talk to that version of him.

I approach the mirror and, careful not to touch the reflective surface, trace the outlines of the golden frame’s decorations.

Ritsu: “Theoretically, we should be able to do it.”

“Good, for now, let’s keep it hidden from the academy.”

I turn to them with a serious look.

“Could you help me take it to my dorm?”

This time I find myself in a place not entirely unfamiliar to me: infinite green fields stretch around me, rising occasionally into small hills. Countless animal-like anomalies walk in groups or alone towards who knows where; others rest in the shade of some trees.

Ahh, I know this place, it’s Harry’s new dorm

The good weather and boundless nature give Jabberwock its usual cheerful and carefree atmosphere, completely opposite to Sinostra, where greed and despair reign supreme. With the memory of the kitty-cat scolding me for eating yet another anomaly still fresh in my mind, I try not to get too distracted by the surrounding creatures and, hands in my pockets, head towards the dormitory. There’s literally no one around, but if I remember correctly, there are no ordinary students in this place, so it’s normal.

?: “Very good, keep it up.”

As I get closer to the strange mushroom-shaped building, I start to hear a familiar voice.

Haru: “Maybe do it a little slower… Exactly, just like that.”

Inside a modest circular enclosure, Harry and the kitty-cat are sitting on the ground with small monster-like creatures similar to marmots, but with the limbs and tail of a chameleon.

How disgusting.

Both are intent on brushing the coarse fur of these creatures. Haru guides the girl’s movements, getting unnecessarily close to her.

“Am I doing it well?”

Haru: “Yes, that’s great, I don’t know what I’d do without you, I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“You don’t have to repay me, I do it with pleasure, plus I have a lot of fun when I spend time here in Jabberwock.”

Sitting that close, their bodies brush against each other with every small movement.

Haru: “Unfortunately, these little ones have very sensitive skin; if they’re not brushed properly, all the things on the ground get into their fur and they risk getting a bad irritation!”

Who gives a shit

The irritation, however, starts coming to me; seeing him so close to the kitten makes me feel a burning sensation that begins to spread from within, burning the walls of my stomach, then rising through my esophagus, and consuming all the tissues along its path. Then this fire reaches my head and burns away all the thoughts that try to deny what I’m feeling, instead fueling the rawest and most selfish ones.

He shouldn't touch her; he needs to stay away from her. She’s mine, and I don’t want to share her with anyone else.

Everything I had decided to leave behind comes back to me: the feelings, the desires, and my repressed resolve tear at my chest, opening a raw wound that brings me to my knees, making me prostrate helplessly before them, without leaving me the possibility to deny them.

As I approach furiously, the two have already finished brushing those things, and Harry leaps to his feet, throwing his arms in the air.

Haru: “Ahh, finished, thank you so much for today!”

And when the kitty also stands up, he wraps her in an friendly hug. She immediately returns the embrace, but at that moment our gazes meet, and she stiffens suddenly.

Haru: “Huh, everything alright? Why did you…”

Now I’ll kill him.

I pull out my special artifact, and when the machine gun returns to its normal size, I point it at Harry.

Haru: “Taiga?! Why are you here?! And why are you pointing that thing at me?!”

He screams in a panic, and meanwhile, raising his hands in the air, he distances himself from the girl; even the furball he always keeps in his sash makes shrill noises out of fear.

Good.

“Taiga, what are you doing, put that away immediately!”

The kitten says angrily, stepping in front of Harry as if to protect him.

Gyahahah, she’s really cute when she’s pissed off.

“Let’s go, come on.”

With one hand, she grabs the barrel of the weapon and moves it aside; with the other, she takes my forearm and pulls me away, trying to make me lose interest in the other ghoul. As we move away from Harry, I manage to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye making a gesture as if to tell him to leave quickly, and he disappears in an instant. As soon as she sees he’s gone, she releases my arm and stands with her arms crossed in front of me.

“So?”

Taiga: “So what?”

“What do you mean, ‘so what’? Why did you suddenly show up and point that damn weapon at Haru? We weren’t doing anything.”

I toss it in the air, shrinking it back to keychain size, and put it away.

Taiga: “None of your business.”

I cross my arms over my chest too and look at her defiantly, which she accepts without thinking twice. With the smile of someone who already understands everything, she approaches me and narrows her eyes, raising her chin.

“I didn’t take you for someone who makes jealous scenes.”

She raises the corners of her mouth even further, turning her smile into an almost unsettling smirk. Then I further reduce our distance, stopping only when our eyes are just a few centimeters apart.

Taiga: “I just made it clear to that idiot that he shouldn’t touch what belongs to me.”

I place a hand under her chin and vigorously rub her lower lip with my thumb.

Taiga: “And let it be clear, no one else can.”

I feel as if I'm possessed; my feelings have completely taken control of my language. The line between jealousy and the desire to possess her wavers along with my judgment. But in the end, what's the difference?

She’s mine. Her happiness, her anger, her sadness, and all her feelings belong to me, as does every beat of her heart, every glance…

Just as the dangerous train of my thoughts is about to derail, it’s abruptly stopped by the kitty-cat placing her hand in the center of my chest.

“Taiga… No.”

Without further explanation, she sighs bitterly, and I remain paralyzed by her clear refusal. She takes a step back and her face slips from my hand. Despite the scorching sun, I’m overwhelmed by an enveloping chill that paralyzes my fingers and makes my heartbeat slow down alarmingly.

“Come with me.”

This time she doesn’t take my hand or my arm, but keeps her distance. She approaches a tree with numerous clusters of drooping yellow flowers.

“Do you know these flowers?”

What kind of question is this?

Taiga: “Do I look like a fucking botanist?”

She looks at me condescendingly and continues to speak as if she hadn’t heard my scornful comment.

“It’s a Laburnum; it’s very beautiful, isn’t it?”

I don’t answer and continue to watch her from afar.

“It’s a shame that every part of it is extremely poisonous.”

She carefully caresses the plant's lethal petals.

“This plant reminds me of you. Its flowers are the same color as your eyes, but it’s not just that. I can stay as close to it as I want, but if I were to accidentally ingest even a small petal detached by a breath of air, I would risk being poisoned.”

When she releases the yellow cluster, it sways widely as if it were a swing.

“In italian it’s called Maggiociondolo, which literally means May-pendant, precisely for this reason: it blooms in spring and when the wind blows, the flowers dangle like this. Isn't it fascinating?”

I’ve never felt so little interest in something in my life, and this complete disinterest must be easily identifiable from my expression; in fact, as soon as she looks at my face, she pouts, offended.

“Ahh, never mind.”

She breaks off a thin twig with a cluster of flowers attached and dangles it in front of my face.

“In a second I’ve sentenced them to death. Right now they’re still beautiful, but then as the hours pass, the petals will get darker and darker, they’ll wilt, and finally fall. Because of my selfishness and desire to keep this beauty only for myself, I’ve ruined them forever, and the only thing left in my hand will be the dehydrated skeleton of this twig.”

She lets the twig fall to the ground, which, when it completely rots, will become one with the underlying soil.

“Taiga, I am like this flower. I am not yours, and you cannot prevent others from seeing or touching me. If you take me away, I will wither, and your actions will no longer have meaning, because I will become something completely different from what you wanted to have at the beginning.”

“You desire me as I am now, right? Everything has a compromise; you can’t monopolize me like this.”

She puts her arms behind her back, holding one wrist with the other hand, and with a proud stride, she approaches me again.

“It’s too easy to let fury overwhelm you and act like a hooligan without even thinking about the consequences.”

Her words, spoken with extreme serenity, fall into my ears like velvet, and manage to calm my all-consuming thoughts until they vanish. Now my mind is like a flat sea, without waves or ripples.

How long has she been so good at controlling me? Or have I become too malleable?

She takes my hand and brings it to her heart; through the fabric of her clothes, I can feel her light heartbeat against my palm.

“This, and all that follows, can be dedicated only to you.”

She places her hand over mine, which is now enveloped by her warmth from both sides.

“But you have to earn it, and threats or violence won’t work.”

She lets go, and my arm falls lifelessly back to my side. In her magenta irises, a sweetness lingers that seems almost unnatural, considering their vessel is myself.

What does a good person like her find in me? What nourishes that immense patience hidden within her pretty little head?

Up until now, I’ve always acted for myself; the goal has always been just me and my entertainment. What happened to everyone else was merely collateral. The end justifies the means, right? This is the first time my will has extended beyond the threshold of my egocentrism. This kitten, so fragile in her humanity and her curse, has, for the first time in my life, made me desire something beyond money or personal pleasure.

Perhaps what I feel for her is like what a master feels for their pet; yes, maybe for now it’s better to think of it that way. For this time, I’ll do as she says, only because she’s such a cute kitten, Gyahahahaha.

I raise my eyebrows playfully and twirl a lock of her hair around my finger.

Taiga: “Ugh, what a pain, I’ll behave, but you yourself said there’s a compromise to everything, so what will you give me in return, kitty-cat?”

A bright red color decorates her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears, and she looks away, embarrassed.

“Well, I… I don’t know.”

I lean close to her ear and whisper:

Taiga: “I have an idea.”

I move to her cheek, careful never to let my lips touch her skin. When I reach her mouth, we’re so close that it gives me the illusion our lips are touching. Our warm breaths mingle in the space between us, and when I open my mouth to speak, I feel a tremor coming from her sensitive lips.

Taiga: “Do you remember when I told you I was going to live with you?”

Still blushing, she looks up at the sky to try and remember, and when that memory comes back to her, she narrows her eyes as if urging me to continue.

Taiga: “I will respect what you just told me, and in return, you’ll give me the keys to your room. That way, whenever I get tired of being in Sinostra with Lulù and that other idiot, I can take refuge in your dorm. Not even the principal will have anything to say, given that you’re his beloved inspector.”

I move away from her lips and stand up so that my gaze is at the same level as hers. To be more “persuasive,” I grasp her hips and pull her against me.

Taiga: “So, what do you say? It seems like a perfectly legitimate compromise to me”

Her face turns completely red.

She must have understood the implications.

We remain for a few seconds staring into each other's eyes, until the kitty decides to break the silence.

“Alright, that can be done.”

She moves away from me and extends her hand, which I promptly shake. As soon as my hand slips away from hers, my vision blurs, and I am catapulted out of this memory.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

(≧∇≦)ﾉ @pebblesforall

Hello guys, from now on the updates, may or may not, be a bit slow, I'm in full study mode for the summer exam session, so my brain is basically mashed potatoes when I write in the evening and I'm not very productive.

Also the weather does NOT help 💀 I hate summer with my whole being (┬┬﹏┬┬)

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #taiga hoshibami #taiga hoshibami x reader #taiga hoshibami x mc

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amortsukii · 2 days ago

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bed chem // nsfw headcanons

pairing. adam warlock x f!reader | wc. 843 | 18+

a/n. honestly could be for either mcu or rivals/comic him 🤷🏼‍♀️ i just love him, your honor. this is like pure filth btw so minors... shoo 🫸

short n' sweet collection. | masterlist. | request info.

as is known, he is the himbo ever. literally the definition of the word may as well be "adam warlock". he is so sexy and he doesn't even know it. you'll get women coming up to him on random planets whilst walking through various civilisations, or at afterparties thrown in the guardians' honour. he's always respectful (obviously!) but so so oblivious to their flirting. you'll have to go up to them and pull him away with the dirtiest death glare on your face aimed towards her. (you ride the life outta him after so he knows who he belongs to.)

adam loves worshipping you. in his eyes, you're a goddess. his goddess. and several times a week will he take you to someplace private— whether that be his bedroom, a bathroom, some abandoned place on a mission— and shove his face between your thighs. he'd lay you down, or set you on a table or counter, and spread your legs to worship you in his most favourite way.

loves marking you. you're his queen— his mate, his goddess— and he needs everyone to know. you're his, and he's yours. bruises; shaped like his hands from where his fingers dug into your hips with every thrust. bites; all along your collarbone and chest, with the most prominent mark on the side of your neck.

his cum is glittery. this is definitely canon, marvel told me. its glittery and slightly gold tinted... and also really warm. he loves coming all over your body, especially your chest, to see how you look painted with gold.

as said before, he loves to see you draped in his colour. like that one time you wore a silky gold dress to a gala the guardians were invited to, he had to drag you off to the closest bathroom to get rid of his sudden erection. he'd bent you over the counter and took you from behind— dress still on and bunched at the waist— while whispering in you ear how good you look.

adam is such a soft dom. he'll essentially fold you in half— dick prodding deep into your walls— and still make sure you're comfortable, that he's not hurting you. he'll mutter dirty talk into your ear (which sounds incredibly endearingly silly in his way of talking) and slip so much praise into it that it becomes less sexual and more worshipful.

a fiend for creampies. there is nothing he loves more than seeing you filled up with his seed— watching with keen eyes as it slowly drips out of you. sometimes he'll even shove his fingers into your hole to keep it in there and make sure it sticks.

oh yeah he has a massive breeding kink as well. you're his mate, why wouldn't he wanna breed you properly? the mere suggestion of using a condom has him scoffing and rolling his eyes. he can be so sassy sometimes.

he's a cosmic being so his stamina is definitely higher than the average human man. he can last at least 4 rounds without even beginning to feel tired. there has definitely been multiple times that you've passed out mid-sex, and oh my god does he panic. the first time you did he genuinely thought you'd died, that he'd killed you. he had hurriedly gotten dressed and covered you up with a blanket before rushing to gamora for help. she teased you both relentlessly for months, but luckily didn't tell the rest of the team.

so so strong. will manhandle you into all sorts of positions. he's gently, obviously, but still enough to leave bruises on your hips and hand prints on your ass.

you once had sex whilst flying (it was your suggestion) and he came so hard his powers malfunctioned briefly and you two started falling. safe to say, that will likely never happen again.

he's pretty loud in bed. mainly grunts and groans but sometimes— if hes in a subby mood or you've reduced him to tears— he'll whimper and moan your name. adam's voice is pretty deep and when he moans all raspy and broken it's so beautiful. his head will tilt back, exposing the curve of his jaw and neck, and his mouth drops open.

as much as adam loves giving you oral (and it is a lot), he much prefers to be on the receiving end. there's nothing better to him than coming home from a stressful mission and seeing you sink to your knees and undo his belt. just the feeling of your mouth encompassing his cock, the warm wet of your saliva coating him, is enough to brighten his day.

he is the king of aftercare. "you deserve nothing but the best," is what he recites almost every time. he'll gently wipe you down with a wet rag, place kisses on the marks he left on your skin. sometimes he'll run you a bath with your favourite bubble scent, carefully scrubbing off the aftermath when you've calmed down. he'll then carry you back to bed and wrap himself around you.

taglist. @articel1967

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock #warlock #marvel rivals x reader #marvel rivals #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #mcu #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fanfiction #gotg #marvel smut #mcu smut #adam warlock smut #♡ amortsukii writes #♡ short n' sweet

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hehimrabies · 3 days ago

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ranchhand!randy x cowboy!benson ! cw: 18+, MDNI, 2.3k words, mlm, barn sex, “rolling in the hay” taken literally, praise, hair pulling, palming, frotting, aftercare ! not proof read ! thought about Crush while writing this…they are so Ethel Cain coded

Randy was never the kind of boy to get down and dirty. he wasn’t some uptight priss either, but he was never fond of mud and grim. but after the incident, when his mom shipped him off to live with his uncle on his ranch, he didn’t have much of a choice at that point.

it was easy to slip into a routine, to get used to the filth and sweat and feeling of accomplishment that came with working on the land. he did most everything — feed the animals, cleaned their stalls, harvested crops and eggs, even helped with the births of multiple lambs and calves. it was dirty, even gross, but he enjoyed it. he liked feeling useful, he liked having a routine, he liked being able to fall into bed at night and not have nightmares, too dead tired to dream.

it’s safe here. he feels safe.

that is until Benson blows in one day. his spotted steed carrying him onto their property with ease, the rain pattering against his rough jeans and his scuffed leather boots. his eyes can barely be seen under his hat, but it doesn’t matter much. Randy is still struck with a sense of…unease he can’t quite place correctly. can’t figure out why he feels this way about this stranger just looking for a place to crash, he just does. but Benson barely acknowledges him, just does the work his uncle assigns and keeps to himself. he’s rough and rugged and quiet. and that unsettles him more.

he tried to keep his distance, but that’s hard when every job puts them right beside one another. and his curiosity can’t be helped, those big eyes surveying Benson’s dark hair, his toned bicep, his facial hair that moves with every inhale and exhale. it just spills out one day when they’re in the barn, Benson on a smoke break, leaning against the wall opposite him. Randy swallows and stops shoveling the hay, looking over at him. “s-so…is there more to you than just your name or…?” he murmurs shakily, eyes on Benson’s boots. god, those boots… Randy shakes his head, knocking the thought from his mind.

Benson sees but doesn’t comment, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air in front of his face, eyes moving up to Randy’s. “yeah. why do you wanna know..?” he mumbles, watching the deer-like boy in front of him. Randy swallows. “i…i don’t know. i mean..you’re in my house. we’re working together. is it so bad i maybe wanna know more than just your name..?” he mutters sheepishly, his fingers twitching against the handle of the shovel. his heart is pounding, and he’s glad Benson isn’t standing closer or he’s sure he could hear it. he wishes he hadn’t said anything, he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. it wasn’t his business anyhow.

Benson stubs out his cigarette against the wall behind him, letting it fall into the dirt below his feet. he pushes off, stepping back up to his shovel beside Randy. he exhales, starting to shovel again and for a moment, Randy thinks he isn’t going to answer. but then — “i’m from Nebraska..originally. my horse’s name is Bradley, he’s 4. and my favorite band is Metallica. that enough?” he murmurs gruffly into the space between them, his eyes on the hay below him. Randy utters a small chuckle when Benson mentions the name of his horse, a shaky smile crossing his lips. those brown eyes fall on him, a brow quirking under his hat. “what?” “no, nothing just…Bradley is my last name so i thought it was a funny coincidence.” he replies softly.

Benson is quiet for a second before straightening up a little, leaning against his shovel. “really? well, shit. i got two little steeds, huh?” and something about that sets a fire burning low in Randy’s stomach. his steed…

he doesn’t say anything for the rest of the day, but that sentence is constantly on loop in his brain all the way into the dead of night. lying there in his room, the sound of the cicadas penetrating his window and his brain, making the buzz of Benson’s voice louder and louder and louder until he just needs to get up and get some fresh air. he grabs his coat and his boots and trudges downstairs as quietly as possible and out to the barn.

it’s not like him to be so affected by other people, not for years. but Benson..does something to him. something he can’t put his finger on and doesn’t really want to. he’ll be gone soon, that’s all he can hope for, and then the silence and the safety will return and he won’t have to deal with this throbbing in his body.

he slips inside the barn, settling himself into a plume of hay by door, letting out a soft breath of relief. he can still hear the cicadas but the smell of the wood around him grounds him, the feel of the coarse hay under his hands. no Benson to be seen or heard or—goddamnit. he comes slowly through the crack in the door, almost like he’s sheepish to actually be there. his eyes meet Randy’s and he clears his throat before speaking. “i uh..i saw you leave. wanted to check on you.”

and that makes the throbbing worse.

it sends Randy to his feet, his hands clenched at his sides. it makes him step right up to Benson. it makes him ask a question he doesn’t even hear over the ringing in his own ears, the pounding of his own heart. he barely hears the bigger man’s answer before his hands are on his face and his lips are smashed against his own.

Randy lets out a whimper of surprise, but doesn’t pull away. no, he melts into the feeling, the buzzing in his brain suddenly silenced by the feelings now swelling in his body. Benson kisses him like he’s trying to devour him, his hands roaming from his cheeks, keeping him close. and Randy lets him.

he lets him walk him back towards the hay pile, lets him guide his body down, lets him grip his waist just above the band of his jeans. he tries to follow Benson’s lead in the kiss, stumbling through the motions as his inexperienced body heats and heats like a volcano about to explode. it’s too much and not enough all at once. but he can’t bring himself to stop, just pull away enough to speak a little.

“i-i’m your steed, y-you said..” he murmurs, gasping as Benson slots his knee up between his legs, his heavy body lying against him. Benson chuckles softly, pulling away to rock his leg up against his growing hard on, his eyes deep and dark. “yeah. i meant it as a joke, didn’t know it would fuck you up so much.” he moves to kiss his cheek, then his jaw, a free hand moving to cup the back of his head. “you like that idea? being my steed, my boy…?” he mumbles against his hot skin, relishing in the sound the words pulls from Randy’s pale throat. “yeah. i think you do. been cooped up here too long.” he continues, his mustache brushing softly over the brunette’s skin as he lavishes it in wet kisses.

Randy can barely respond, his body hot and his breathing shallow. he lets Benson tip his head back to get more room to nip and kiss at his skin, shading it with red hickies that will soon darken. his body feels like it’s floating and swirling around him, with every kiss and rock of Benson atop him. all these sensations causing a whirlpool of heat in his stomach, one that tightens by the second.

he feels the bigger man’s hand on his waist move, working to undo his belt as he nuzzles up and down his jaw and throat. the blinking fills the space, then the unzipping of his jeans follows. he pauses before pulling them down, pressing a kiss to Randy’s cheek before pulling back to stare down at him. “is this okay? you want this..?” he asks firmly, making no room for hesitance or unsure answers.

Randy opens his eyes, looking shakily up at him, his cheeks pink and his lips wet. “..yes. i do..y-you can keep going.” he replies as confidently as he can muster. Benson offers a small smile, planting another kiss to his plush lips as he hands slowly slide his jeans down to his ankles, leaving him in his briefs, a small bulge and wet spot visible on the front of them. Benson smiles wider, quirking a brow at Randy before slowly starting to palm him over the fabric, watching his back arch and his face draw up in pure pleasure.

“that good..? you like that? does my boy like when i touch him like that..?”

Randy moans and nods, feeling the hay tangle in his hair. his hips rut against Bensons big palm, seeking more pressure, more friction, more pleasure. Benson just laughs softly and uses his free hand to guide his hips against his hand. “i gotcha..just let me lead.“ he says, moving Randy’s hips like he was riding a horse, and Randy knows that, his cock twitching at the thought, at the motion of being guided. it does things to him and he can feel it doing things to Benson as well, his length pressed against his thigh. it’s hot, even through his jeans, and he wants to feel it against his skin.

slowly, he moves his hands down to fumble around with Benson’s waistband, shakily unzipping them before glancing up at him with wide eyes. “is this—“ “yes. keep going.” Benson cuts him off, already throbbing at the thought of this sweet boy getting his hands on him. and Randy does, moving his hands to help the brunette shimmy his jeans down to his own ankles. and god, he’s tenting his boxers, his tip drooling against them. it makes him swallow, spit pooling at the sight of it. he takes a shaky breath before reaching to wrap his hand around him through the fabric, feeling the weight of his length in his palm.

Benson groans and rips his head back, his hand palming Randy in rhythm with the smaller boy’s strokes. “fuck…just like that. squeeze me a little mo—oh shit—“ he whines, his chest heaving below his tank top. Randy thinks he looks gorgeous like this, panting and cursing and debauched in the dim light of the barn. he doesn’t have the width to verbalize that right now though, not with his hand palming his cock. it’s all too much and not enough, his hips rolling against the heat, his head falling back against the hay. “you want some more, Randy..?” Benson mumbles breathlessly, watching as the boy below him nods eagerly. “please.”

it doesn’t take long for Benson to rid them both of their underwear, the fabric joining their jeans around their ankles. Randy trembles gently as he watches the brunette spit in his palm and shift up to straddle his thighs, reaching down to cradle both of their cocks in his hand. Randy gasps, his eyes rolling, his stomach heaving as Benson starts a pace, stroking them both. their breathing and slick sounds fill the air between them, Benson’s voice his only anchor from floating away from pleasure.

“you’re being so good…” “feel so fucking perfect, jesus” “drooling all over my cock—mngh..” “such a good boy, my boy..”

Randy mumbles incoherently under his breath, his eyes squeezed shut as pleasure heats him from head to toe. but his eyes shoot open when he feels Benson’s thick fingers wind into his hair and tug. his head jerks back with a sharp whine, eyes meeting those dark browns. “eyes on me.” he mutters, his cheeks flush with pleasure. his hips start to slowly buck into his hand, rubbing their cocks together more and more.

he can feel the coil of his own pleasure tightening in his gut, his breaths turning into heavy grunts. he’s right there, so close, and the sight of this pale, flushed, panting boy beneath him makes it creep up even quicker. Benson smashes their lips together, a hand tight in Randy’s hair as he moans into his mouth, tongue pushing against his teeth and his cheek. he feels Randy grab at his bicep, tight and hard, his own hips bucking weakly until he’s gasping and spurting ropes out against Benson’s stomach and hand. “fuck fuck—mnghahah!” he cries, body shaking through it. the sight and sound and feel is enough to send Benson rocketing over the edge after him with a deep groan, his own spend painting Randy’s shirt. “ungh…shit.”

they stay like that for what feels like hours, panting and trying to come back to themselves. Benson gently rubs his thumb on Randy’s cheek, watching him as he takes deep breaths. the whole barn reeks of sex and sweat now, but that’ll pass with time. hopefully. eventually, they steadily untangle, helping each other with their underwear and pants. Benson plants kisses to the side of Randy’s face, murmuring to him about how good he did, how sexy he is, what a perfect boy he is for him.

they slowly make their way back to the house, Benson keeping an arm around Randy to keep him from falling over on shaky legs. he guides him to his room, helping him out of his jeans and his come stained shirt, letting them fall to the floor. “get some sleep, Randy..” he murmurs, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss to his lips. he watches Randy roll onto his side, his weary body sinking into the mattress.

and when he’s sure he’s not coherent, he grabs the shirt off the floor, burying his nose in it for a moment, and heads out to his own bedroom, body and mind buzzing.

#elioelioelio #the passenger #the passenger 2023 #randy the passenger #randy bradley #benson #benson the passenger #benson x randy #randy x benson #ranson #stockroom syndrome #ranson smut #cowboy!au #ranch hand!au

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djosang3ll · 2 days ago

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Gimme Gator smut pls and thanks 🫶 literally anything the filthier the better but also if he’s slightly soft?? Totally down I’ll take anything from this man ❤️

an: hi i hope this is what you were hoping for! also i have not really put out any of my writings in so long so bare with me as i am a little rusty! i hope you enjoy 🫶🫶 i only read over it once because i didn’t want to keep reading my own work lol so sorry for any errors!

warnings: squirting, fingering, fingers in v, oral f receiving, jerking off, dirty talk?¿… female reader. I believe that is all!

enjoy <3

You hear him before you see him. Gators boots stomp against the floor of your apartment, the sound getting louder and louder with each step.

“Hi baby,” you look through the mirror of your vanity at gator when he steps into your room. Immediately you can tell he was in a mood. Either because of his dad or because of his day at work.

He walks in, not responding to your greeting just sits down on the edge of the bed. “Come here..” he says in a demanding tone. His eyes hooded and seem to be dead of emotions. You perk up and set down the hairbrush you held on the vanity and walked over to stand between his spread legs.

“You okay?” You move to take his hat off of his head, his hands instinctively moving to grab a handful of your ass, tugging you into his body forcefully.

“i had a bad day and i need to taste something sweet..” he leaned his head back to look up, eyes roaming over your face. “I want you to strip down for me and get on the bed like a good girl for me yeah?” He slapped his hands down on your ass cheeks.

“Come on now, don’t keep me waiting long” he said slightly in an annoyed tone. You moved back from him and shimmied out of your shorts and pulled off the tank top you wore, leaving you standing there in your purple lace panties.

You move to step out of your underwear and gator reaches out grabbing your wrist to stop the movement.

“Keep em on for me” He then nodded his head towards the bed as he stood up, gesturing for you to climb up there. “On your hands and knees baby”

As you go into position your ass tutted up, hair falling over one side of your shoulder as you glance back. Watching him toss his jacket and shirt to the sides you can’t help but watch him, mouth practically salivating at the sight of him, in his tank top and camo pants he wore to work.

I feel him step up behind me, “god you’re so pretty when you do what i tell you to.” he trails his pointer finger down your spine resting above your panties.

“Play with your clit” gator says in a firm tone.

You do just that, slowly moving your fingers down to gently circle your clit. Just as your fingers get set on a pace that is creating pleasure. You feel his lips gently kiss your cheek, and then move to the other.

His hands are holding onto your thighs, as he lowers himself to kneel beside the bed, face now level with your heat.

You feel him pepper kisses on the outside of your panties, up and down your slit. “Keep playing with it, don’t stop unless i tell you too” he says before hooking his finger into your thong and pull it to the side to reveal your glistening pussy. “Damn you’re already wet” he ran his tongue along your entrance and up.

You twitch a little in the hips from the pleasure it brings, your fingers still going at the lazy pace on your clit.

Gator loves eating you out. He goes at it like it’s his last meal every single time.

His tongue teases your opening, and then he pulls back, grabbing onto your hips and flipping you around to lay on your back.

He stands up, you still rub your pussy as you watch him undo his pants and tug them down to reveal his tight briefs. And his cock that is screaming to get out of them.

Gator gets back down on his knees in front of you, pulling your panties off of your body, leaving you naked and bare laying infront of him like you’re his own personal meal.

“You are perfect…” he kisses up your thighs and grabs onto your wrist to stop you from playing with yourself.

“My turn” he grins, through his hooded eyes. Instantly he dives down and flicks his tongue along your clit.

You let out a soft moan, arching up a bit to meet his tongue with a bit more pressure. You feel his middle finger teasing the entrance of your pussy, gentle pushing the tip in and taking it out a few times.

“So wet..” he groans and sucks on your clit as he shoves in a finger and pumps it in and out in perfect rhythm with this tongue on your nerves.

He adds another finger, pulling his mouth away from your body, his lips swollen and red. “I could eat your pussy all day.” He pushes his fingers inside of your soaking wet entrance with force and at a quicker pace than before.

He latches his mouth back onto your clit sucking, not slowing his hand movements, he looks up eyes locked on your face.

His lazy hooded eyes hold yours, he loves how he can make you crumble under him.

Your stomach is tight and the pleasure inside of you is building too quick, and it’s like he notices and he slows the pace of his fingers, curling them upwards everytime they bottom out in you.

“Go faster please gator” you whine, moving your hand to push some hair from his forehead. He just smiled while he slowly flicked your clit with his tongue.

He looked so devilish, gator was a tease. Slowly he pulled his fingers out leaving the tips of his two fingers in me, and drug his tongue down to meet my hole.

Tongue fucking me whilst his fingers rested right at the entrance, and his eyes never once left my face. Like he couldn’t miss any expression i made.

“Tell me what you want baby” he smirked, and slowly pumped his fingers in and out of my pussy. “You are always so fucking tight and wet” he groaned bottoming out his two fingers, and moving them a bit while in me.

“I want to cum,” he chuckled a bit, “say please.” you rolled your eyes at his demand.

“Please let me cum” without any response from him, he went back and licked your opening up to your clit and ate you like his life depended on it.

You felt the familiar feeling each time his fingers hit that sensitive spot inside of you, and his tongue sucking the dear life out of you.

“God I’m close..” when you said then he didn’t change anything he was doing he kept up the same pace and movements.

He moved his free hand down into his boxers and started to jerk his hard cock. He moaned against your clit.

The vibration of his moan and knowing he is jerking off while eating you out is enough to make you cum right then. But you know what he is doing, he is doing everything right to make you explode.

“I feel you tightening on my fingers baby, cum for me, make a mess on me” gator mumbles then goes right back to sucking on you.

When you hear those words it’s like the flood gates came down, and everything tightened in your body and then released. He holds his fingers deep one last time curling them and you come undone, body jerking, moans echo through the room.

Tears prick your eyes and come down your cheeks.

You trembled as the warm liquid burst out of you, soaking gators fingers, face and the sheets under you. He keeps his fingers going at a steady pace letting your ride out your arousal on his fingers, he pulls back and watched you come undone under him.

He then feels his own climax hit, head tilting back, and his eyes closed tightly, he moans as he cums, jerking his cock quickly, matching the pace of his fingers inside of you.

Eventually he slips his hand from his briefs and out from your pussy. You lay there on soaked sheets and close your eyes, steadying your breathing.

You feel the bed dip down and gator rub his hand over your belly, wrapping around you tugging you into his chest.

“Feeling better?” You asked softly, and he closed his eyes and nods, resting his forehead against your head. “I think any man that is having a bad day just needs a girl to squirt on his face.” You can’t help but laugh a little, “is that so?”

Gator nods and lifts his head up, “think we could go two for two?” You shake your head and playfully slap him. “Change my sheets now.”

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman #gator tillman smut #joe keery x reader #joe keery #joe keery smut #joe keery imagine

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ssahotchnerr · 2 days ago

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hi! i’ve just come across your account, and i can confidently say that ellie is now my favorite character (i don’t care if she isn’t canon!! HAHA)

i hope it’s alright, but i just wanted to know how you would have treated the whole scratch situation and having to go on witness protection+ellie. maybe how she’d have to be away from grandpa dave, penelope and the rest of the team and how she and their family are processing this change.

anyway, i hope you’re having a great day/night wherever you are and that you keep enjoying writing about hotch and ellie 😊

hi my love!!! thank you so much 🥹 literally at this point she's completely canon to me LOL but omg this is something i've wanted to explore more so much. i'm still piecing ideas together but here's a bit of what i have so far!! i do want to write actual fics once it's more solid:

since scratch ended up being at jack's soccer game and that's when they go into the program, i want to add some more pre-program instances where it shows aaron and the family are being targeted :(

- scratch also shows up at ellie's dance recital. there's a lot of people, the scratch situation has been escalating - this would be approx. right after aaron sees the victim with 'Hotch' scratched into their forehead - he's wayyy more on edge. and so, he thinks he catches a glimpse of scratch within the recital crowd, but he's gone just as fast as he saw him. so with the paranoia, aaron toys with the idea that maybe he just imagined it??? maybe he saw someone who looked similar, and for the rest of the recital - he's on high alert. however, he doesn't see him again so maybe it was his imagination? but regardless and as a safety precaution, he gets a security detail to watch the house, he shows you a picture of scratch so you can identify him if he is hanging around, and tells you to keep an eye out for anyone showing interest in jack, ellie, or even yourself.

and so once aaron sees scratch at jack's game, that's when he's like yes, the family is definitely in danger and action is detrimentally needed. he goes into action immediately - he's coaching the game, and has another parent take over. grabs jack, grabs you and ellie who are watching on the sidelines, gets you all in the car and heads straight to the BAU - calling dave on the way and telling him to meet you all there.

with ellie being so little - i'm thinking of putting her at either 4-5? in terms of age, she obviously has no idea what's going on. jack does, but not her. the conversation you and aaron have with her is EXTREMELY!!!!!!!!! familiar to the one aaron had with jack when he and haley went into protection due to foyet :((((((( - that this is a vacation, and it won't be for very long. in addition, the amount of guilt aaron feels that he has to have this conversation again - how it's his fault: because of him, his family is at risk once again. (this would be suchhh a heartbreaking fic :( ) but at least this time, he doesn't feel as helpless. not the most perfect word, because of course he wishes he could do more, but he's with all of you. but god does he feel awful.

ellie, being oblivious, is fine with it, thrilled even - because what kid doesn't love a vacation??? she does have a ton of questions though, all throughout when they're in hiding - why isn't she at dance? school? why isn't jack at school? soccer? why can't she see grandpa dave and all her aunts and uncles????? you and aaron tread carefully with the answers, telling her soon, but obviously you have no idea when. :(

that's kinda what i have so far??? it's subject to change and i def want to add more, but it's an SUCH interesting concept to consider with ellie in the mix 🥺 and i'm super excited to write it. i also want to write something with aaron being swatted and her witnessing that!!!!

thank you for asking!!!! 🥹🫶🏻 and thank you for loving ellie <333 it makes me so happy she's loved by so many 😭

ps - i would love to hear any thoughts or ideas about this concept if anyone wants to share!!!!!

#ellie hotchner <3 #let's talk aaron <333333 #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine

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hazard-haze · 3 hours ago

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Eddie and Volt headcanons (no player)

Soooooo

My brain has decided this shit is my new hyperifxation

And that these are my new comfort characters

But I heard that everyone was getting a hate ending with them and guess who got friendship with them first tryyyyyy! So uh, skill issue/j heres some headcanons for ya'll :)

-He doesn't do it often because he knows Eddie hates it, but Volt can 110% pick up Eddie and will abuse this power if he needs to

-Eddie is Volt's anger translator. It usually goes something like this:

Volt: "We are sorry you weren't satisfied with our service, but this is the best we can do and I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Eddie *passing by behind him*: "Pay your fucking tab and get out!"

-Volt cannot keep his hands still, he tries to play it off suave-ly (?) by just tapping his fingers and running his hand through his hair repeatedly but when he gets really excited or angry about something he will wave his hands with big, fast, eccentric gestures.

-Volt wears eyeliner, sometimes Eddie helps him put it on.

-Eddie is very talented at most things he does, fixing, building, mixing drinks (he can even do some tricks with shakers), and there's a plethora of odd things he's picked up throughout the years. However this makes him get pretty frustrated when things don't work out the first couple times he attempts something. While not the main reason, this is part of why he was so frustrated and irritable during most of his main plot. Volt sometimes has to remind him that it's okay to not have everything figured out immediately, or pull him from his work if he's starting to stress out or exhaust himself too much.

-On the topic of pulling Eddie from his work, that is a feat. Volt full well knows he can't just ask Eddie to take a break, usually he has to either ask him to do something easier as a favor, or blame the break on himself.

"Oh Eddie, I know your in the middle of something but could you wipe the bar down? I have no time before we open."

"Eddieeeee, I have no one to watch the new season of Cougar vs Cougar with! Would you take a break to and come watch it with me? Please! Just for a little bit! Just one episode!" (They got through like 2 1/2 before Eddie passed tf out)

-Oh yeah, Volt loves reality TV and Eddie pretends to not be at least a little invested.

-Eddie can draw. Volt cannot. Volt is very jealous of Eddie in this regard.

-Infodumpingggggggg. They infodump to one another without even realizing it, it is so much of how they communicate. They will ramble and bounce ideas off each other, mostly about the club but about other stuff too.

-On the flip side. They can also communicate by saying pretty much nothing, just through brief glances. I think it would partly be because they are literally split from the same thing but it's more in that way when you widen your eyes slightly at your bestie and that equates to like a full paragraph of text.

-Eddie is short af, Volt is tall af.

-Volt makes fun of Eddie for being short

-Like seriously ya know that audio that's like "I know we don't always see eye to eye" "that because your too short to do so"

-Eddie will get revenge. He can kick/punch really hard but he can also come up with some other very clever ways of revenge. Do not mess with the guy who has access to the tools.

-Neither of them really like just hard liquor. Volt likes sweeter drinks and Eddie likes quality craft beers. If either sees the other drinking something like scotch/whiskey they can usually assume somethings wrong.

-Volt has sooooo many ideas for the club, several of which are not exactly... possible. Eddie has to be the one to break the news to him that No Volt we can't break down the retaining wall of the bar and turn it into an inanimal fish tank. Why? Because without it the roof would collapse!

-Volt's love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

-Eddie's love language is acts of service.

-Going deeper into that, Volt loves physical touch, as previously mentioned. Eddie however does not. But they make it work, Eddie can tell when Volt needs a hug or just to have someone next to him, Volt can tell when Eddie is getting overstimulated or just needs space.

-They both have their ears pierced. Volt did it for both of them.

-Eddie actually quite likes talking to people, I mean he's definitely tended the bar at some point, he just doesn't like talking to annoying people. He's sarcastic and his humor is a bit deadpan and he's more reserved, but he 100% can be very funny and hold conversations very well with patrons and even better with friends.

-That being said, bro does not chat while he works on maintenance. If anyone, including Volt, is working with him, he isn't saying shit unless its telling them what to do, or looking over their work. If someones lucky they get a "Good job."

-Neither have ever been a fan of the dark, but they especially would not be after the black out.

-They both hate silence, I mean they work in a night club, at this point it just feels unnatural.

-Kinda already mentioned this but Volt gets quiet angry and Eddie gets loud angry. If Volt goes silent, you know you fucked up. On the opposite end, it will sometimes be assumed that Eddie is mad because he's being quiet but that just how he is, if Eddie actually is properly yelling you know he's upset.

-Nerve damage babyyyyyy. It is all up Eddie's arms, contributes to why he's not super touchy because his arms get that awful pulling, itchy, pain when something touches them.

-Volt can get some nasty fatigue. The electricity fluctuates? Bro is immediately drained, head rush, migraine, the whole shabang.

-Not really headcanon but neither of them are good at admitting they need help or at accepting it when its offered.

-They both know each others triggers tho, and make sure to tell the other to rest when they need to. Neither take their own advice.

-Eddie hyperfocuses like crazy. If he sits down with his tools, something to fix and no one around he will not move from that spot for hours.

-Volt is always jumping from project to project, person to person, never slowing down. There's a lot to do in the breaker box and he is more than happy to juggle all of it.

-Both of them forget to sleep because of these facts. and eat (do they eat?). and talk to other things. and talk to each other. and-

-They would be cat people. Volt has definitely brought up getting an inanimal from Mateo but Eddie is always hesitant (even though he would 100% end up loving it to bits if they got one)

----

Ya'll I think I'm a loser. Instead of being out on a night off I am sitting in my bedroom writing headcanons about an actual breaker box in a dating sim that I'm not even attracted to, I just think their silly. What is my life T-T

#date everything #eddison watts #eddie #volt #volt and eddie #gang i'm aro/ace #i just think they're neat #headcanon #platonic #or not idk #I wrote it pretty platonically but its up for interpretation #eddie and volt #did I just realize that these guys are a metaphor for chronic illness?#maybe #is this why I like them so much?#...maybe

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cardiohiphopgroovesitisthen · 12 hours ago

Text

Never drink alone.

Eddie x human fic

Angst, slow burn 🔥

Part 2

Your back is turned to the bar as Eddie clinks and pours and scrapes and…lights something on fire? He told you that he’d have a surprise after work, and that it would take a few minutes to prepare, but your excitement is slowly turning to worry as the sounds behind you get more difficult to discern.

“Is that squelching? What is squelching? Why are things squelching back there?”

“Hey, mind your business.”, Eddie says in mock admonishment. “And eyes forward.”

“You are not the boss of me.”

“Yeah? Then why the hell do you listen so well?”

This was the last straw. You whip around to scold him but then you see a tray with sparklers and 5 little glasses all filled with different color liquids and fruits. Some have granules on the rim, one has a small stock of celery and, yup, one is on fire. Eddie is standing behind the bar beaming at you, his arms outstretched. “Surprise.” His voice is still that monotonous drone, but there is energy radiating off of him. As he wrings his hands waiting for your response, you can tell he is just as excited as you are.

“What…” You laugh in excitement and hurry over to the bar to take your seat and admire his work. “What is this? Why did you do this?” Your voice is all awe and giddy.

“You told me yesterday that you don’t know what liqueur you like. And I thought it was a nice thing you did, for Bev. Making her think you like everything. But I thought it would be good to actually try some of the classics.”

You stare in amazement at the whole scene. “Are you going to drink with me?”

“Oh I already know what these taste like.”

“Yeah, but it's a bad habit to drink alone.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Mhm, don’t drink when you’re alone and don’t drink when you’re sad.”

“Hmmm. Is that why you've never used your bar?”

You look at him, at first genuinely affected by his jab. But he laughs before you can get mad at him. “Why do you make these jokes? Who keeps telling you that you’re funny? They’re lying, you know.”

“Oh no. Are you sad? Man, that means you can’t drink any of these drinks I made. Because, you know, that would be against the rules.” He says, literally tongue in cheek.

“Pleased with yourself?”

“Yup. So, where do you want to start?” He eagerly postures behind the tray of drinks.

“I mean, that one is on fire, so probably get that out of the way before we make more work for ourselves.” You point at the glass with a brown/orange liquid and you can see now that the thing on fire is a lime shell floating on top of the drink, itself filled with alcohol and lit aflame.

“Excellent choice! But first, watch this.” He sprinkles cinnamon over the drink and the flames spark and dance. He lets you take a moment to appreciate it. “Well, go on!” You lean your face in, ready to sip the drink. “Whoa! Are you nuts?”

“What?”

“It is on fire. Blow it out, you maniac.”

“Well you didn’t tell me!”

“Yeah, I thought you were smarter than that! Won’t be making that mistake twice."

You scrunch your nose at him and look at the flame. “So do I have to make a wish or something?”

“It’s not customary, but it never hurts to try.” You look at him for a couple of moments. “Well are you gonna blow it out or what?”

“Shush, I’m making a wish.”, you say, eyes still studying him.

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m gonna have to start over if you keep talking.” He folds his arms and tries his best not to look uncomfortable. His best was, alas, not effective. You give him one last smile, blow the flame out and take your first sip. It’s not what you’re expecting at first. It’s smokey, more savory than a drink this pretty should be. But then the sour sinks in. And it’s quickly quelled by the smooth almond liqueur and bubbly soda. Your eyes go wide. “Oh my gosh. This is so good!”

He just smiles. “Okay, how about this one?” You do this for the next four drinks, sipping one while he watches and waits to hand you the next. He studies your face while you sniff and swish. He asks you if you’re familiar with any of the drinks before you try them, asks what you liked most, what was too strong and what flavors stood out in good ways and bad ways. Once you’ve sipped all of them, he starts to clean up behind the bar.

“Nope! Mm-mmm. Get over here.” You tap the stool next to you.

“I have to clean.”

“I’ll help you clean after. Come on.”

“I can’t relax with a dirty bar.”

“Then let’s finish these drinks so we can add these to the dishes!” He hesitates for a moment. “I don’t want to force you to get tipsy if you don’t want to. But, if you wouldn’t mind it, I would like to avoid drinking alone. Because that would make me sad. And then I’d be breaking two rules.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t make the rules.” He scoffs out a laugh and walks over. When he sits beside you, you turn to him.“This was extremely kind of you.”

“Oh god I can drink or I can be sappy, but I cannot be both.”

“Who’s being sappy? You’re the one making a big deal, not me.” You try to nudge him with your shoulder but he slyly dodges in the other direction. You take the hint and keep your extremities to yourself. “I’m just trying to tell you, this was extremely thoughtful and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” He just nods, eyes squarely focused on nothing at all.

“We talk, you know? All of us. Johnny, Cam, Rebel, Volt, everyone who’s ever set foot in here. We all see what you’re doing - helping, I mean. It’s just right that we do something for you... And honestly it was weird to know that you didn’t even know what drinks you liked. Like you were putting yourself away…trying to make all of us happy. It…it felt wrong.”

“It doesn’t feel wrong to me. You all have been helping me since I moved here. I don’t think I’ve ever said thank you to any of you…I’ve definitely accidentally started fights with Dorian. And I straight up abandoned Keyes. I feel like I’m just doing the decent thing.”

“Yeah, decent is nice, but you should still care about the things that you want every once in a while. It’s like you said, we’ve been here since you moved in, most of us even before that. You don’t have to change completely just because you can talk to us now. That’s crazy.”

“It’s not crazy. And it’s actually easier to lose myself because there are just so many big personalities in here and all of them demand that I be just the right person and some of them are seriously not open to negotiating that.”

“Fuck them.”

“Dude, no.”

“I don’t mean like-“

“Well that way too. But that’s not what I’m talking about. There’s more at stake now. It’s not just dating. It’s a chance at a good life. A REAL life. And if I give up on them, then that’s it. They get one chance and I’m the only person who can give it to them.”

“You make yourself sound like a god”

“I don’t feel like a god.”

“How would you know?”

“Ooookay, mister, ‘I can drink or be sappy but not both.’”

“You can’t keep letting people pull parts off of you for their comfort. You’ll have nothing left for yourself.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “The opposite.” You can see him debating whether or not to say more. “When Volt’s here…MC’ing, greeting, wining, dining, he looks like he never has to worry about who he is. Everyone is always happy to see him, and every second this place is open, he’s…he’s with someone. Even when the doors close, he’ll leave to go to whatever the next cool thing is he’s invited to. The Hanks, Dunk, Rainey, everyone’s got time to spare for him. He never lets anyone tell him who to be, and they…love him for it.”

You try to choose your next words carefully. You don’t know much about Eddie and Volt’s relationship, but you get the feeling that it’s not open for criticism. “You know, Volt is a really nice guy. Super charming, just like you said.”

“Yeah, well-“ He tries to speak but you cut him off.

“I honestly…can’t help but feel bad for him.”

Eddie shows more emotion than you’ve ever seen from him. Your words rattle in his ears and give him whiplash as they settle. “You? Feel bad for Volt? Why the hell would you feel bad for Volt?”

“Because of everything you said. MC of the party. Beloved by all. Never goes where no one knows his name. It sounds exhausting.” Eddie is silent. “He doesn’t even get to enjoy his own party. It makes me wonder who he throws them for.” Eddie is motionless. “It just feels…like Volt’s confident around other people because he might only know who he is when he’s with other people. Maybe me and Volt could learn a lesson from you in self worth, huh?”

The silence is thick between you. You feel heat rising up your back and through your ears with every second. Finally, you can’t take the silence. “You know what, this was none of my business, I’m sorry. You opened up a little and I shoved my entire opinion in there so I’m just gonna… reel it back.” You find you’re unable to look at him. You pick out the drink with the edible glitter and pink sugar on the rim. “This one was my favorite.”, you say before you drink. The glasses are barely larger than shot glasses. It takes you two gulps to finish the whole thing. You fish around for the berries in the crushed ice and sit in silence with Eddie.

“So these rules about drinking when you’re alone…where’d you get them?”

You’re startled to hear him talk, but grateful for the subject change. “Oh, just the classic way - hard earned lessons.”

Eddie nods. He grabs the glass that had the flaming lime and dunks the lime in the drink. He takes a couple of gulps and places the empty glass on the bar. “Good rule.”

You nod, stabbing at blackberries with your cocktail straw. “I can come in…and drink with you. You know, like a weird support group where we watch each other drink instead of discourage it.”

He chuckles and you wonder why it lifts so much weight off of your chest. “That would be okay.” You give a small smile. “You don’t have to drink to come here.” You don’t know why but it means a lot to hear him say it.

“Thank you. You don’t have to do anything either, by the way. I…I’ll always have time to spare for you.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. And there it is again, the copper sparking in his eyes, the low buzzing of electricity. Sitting this close to him, you can feel it like static in the air. And just as soon as he looks away, it’s gone. Not totally silent, but quieter.

You take turns baby sitting your mini cocktails for a little while. You hope you haven’t crossed a line with Eddie. You’re almost sure you haven’t because he’s still talking to you. But there’s something heavy in the silence, between every word for the rest of the conversation. It’s not hatred. But whatever it is, it’s strong. And it’s bubbling just below the surface.

Part 1

#date everything #eddie date everything #volt date everything #date everything game #eddison watts #eddie x reader #Eddie x human #date everything fic #‘I’ll always have time to spare for you’ is the sluttiest thing I have ever written.

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